sharing traditions

Last Tuesday, my husband and I celebrated Diwali. Diwali, also known as the "festival of lights", is one of the most important festivals in the Hindu tradition. One of the rituals is to workship Lakshmi, who is the goddess of wealth.

my husband's altar, with the lit "dia" (oil lamp)

As we are a half-Indian/half-Filipino household, my husband and I have been celebrating each other's traditions. I sit beside him as he says his prayers for blessings for ourselves, our families, and loved ones. And beside him, I pray in my own Catholic tradition for blessings as well.

As we have been married only... let's see, about 1 1/2 years / about 1 year and 2 months / 6 months--based on our legal, Catholic, and Hindu ceremonies, respectively (Confused yet? Yes, it sounds wedding-crazy but believe me we are sensible people!) -- we are figuring out our interfaith marriage as we go forward. Our individual spirituality is something important to both of us, and something each of us respected in the other. As I look back, getting married in each other's tradition perhaps has marked the beginning of something that will evolve into this shared spirituality.

We don't have it all figured out yet, especially when the time comes for us to start talking about having a family. I don't know what it will look like in the future, but this I know....

I am reminded, yet again, of what the poet Rumi wrote:

"There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground." 

there's so much packed into these three and a half minutes...

One of my brothers shared this video with me, and what the speaker in the video says is just resonating with me on so many levels. (This is so like my brother to share something like this; I love his unique take on life and spirituality.)

This reminds me of the movie Gattaca - the last scene where Ethan Hawke's character (the "love child" or non-genetically engineered person) finally makes it to outer space - he said something like "Every atom in our body was once part of a star. Maybe I'm going home." Loved that movie...

This video also makes me think about why we (humans) can't be more compassionate towards others/other races/other religions/other levels of ability or disability, etc when we are all essentially made up of the same stuff. Not to say there isn't any goodness in us. There is. Ego just gets in the way sometimes. But then again it's probably human nature to feel threatened by those who, on superficial levels, "seem" different than ourselves... perhaps, because sticking to "our kind" has what helped us survive over thousands of years. I'm no evolution scientist so this is just my very simplistic interpretation.

I've been reflecting on the concept of ahimsa ("nonviolence" - one of the yamas in yogic philosophy) lately, in part due to the Catholic tradition of the Lenten season - the 40 days leading up to Easter. Thinking about how nonviolence plays out in my life, or how I can practice it more. Not just in relation to the recent temporary change in my diet and all that accompanies that decision as it weighs somewhat heavily on me now - but also in terms of nonviolence in thought, word, and deed toward myself and others.


I've played and replayed this video 3 times, and different concepts seem to pop out each time.  Astounding fact indeed. More for me to ponder on...

breath and spirit

Words from one of my favorite poets, Mary Oliver:
"Are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?"

Words I've been thinking about this week. And in my mom's usual intuitive way, she sends me this in an email:

The words "spirit", "Spiritual", Spirituality' come from the Latin word "spirare": to breathe.   
We breathe in, drawing in oxygen which gives life; without it we would quickly die; it is our first food. But we cannot breathe in forever; we must breathe out too; we must give away what that has been given to us. There we have an image of the spiritual life: breathing in and breathing out.  Everything we receive is a gift, free as the air.  Everything we have, we have to give away, a gift, free as the air we breathe.

Breathe in:  we need to go to the deepest center and find God/Spirit/Universal Energy there.

Breathe out:  we need to go out to the whole world, find God/Spirit/Universal Energy and bring Him/Her there.

Wow. Quite powerful words. It's making me think about how I breathe life into my days. Which is a tough question considering how I have been living my days this week. So my mother's email was quite timely, as it gave more insight into what I've been mulling over recently.

These words are also resonating with me right now:

work as love
work as art
work as harmony with the pulse of the earth

- Pamela Slim

I've always considered my work to be a form of spirituality. In my previous job, it wasn't hard to make that connection - especially when working directly with young children and families in the human services field. This time, being a full-time student/graduate assistant/college instructor, I work mostly alone, or with a few colleagues, or with adult students in graduate classes. I've been thinking about how I am making my current work a spiritual practice. What kind of energy am I putting in? How am I breathing life and spirit into my work? But also, how am I nourishing myself so that I can keep giving my energy?

This week was especially challenging, as it has been very solitary. I spent hours and hours on end on my computer, and just relatively minimal chunks of time talking to a colleague to discuss our project over Skype. Don't get me wrong, I love my alone time. I like opportunities to be in my head or in my heart as I walk, cook, practice yoga or meditation, take photographs, or write. But I also crave conversation and community. I welcome opportunities to connect on a deeper level with like-minded people. To connect as an I and a Thou, as the philosopher Martin Buber wrote.

But my current lifestyle can be very... isolating. Which makes it difficult to find that sense of spirituality and connection. Part of the reason connecting with others is so nourishing is that it's a cycle of giving and receiving. Not of material things, but of energy. This week, I felt Mary Oliver's words so strongly. I have been "breathing just a little".

No wonder I felt so out of balance. But I have to remember, that there's a reason it's called a spiritual practice. It's not going to be perfect. It's not going to be great every day. Life itself is a spiritual practice.

I've been reflecting on this word as well:

"spirited"

It's a word that I love. I love how it sounds. I love the feeling it evokes. It's strange, I know - how I tend to love words for the way they sound and for the feelings attached to them. Much how I like the word "spring" for the way it sounds, and its associations with everything fresh and new and reborn.

But back to "spirited". The online dictionary defines it as:

"having or showing mettle, courage, vigor, or liveliness, etc.: a spirited defense of poetry."

(thanks, dictionary.com)

I think this definition is somewhat limiting though. Because what happens when your courage wanes? When you feel a decline in your energy or a loss of liveliness? What if you don't feel like bubbling over with joy or "bursting with fruit flavor"? (my favorite line from that old movie, Reality Bites)

I think being "spirited" is much more than that. It's that sense of conviction, that place of stillness, that quiet wellspring of energy deep in your gut, from which to draw strength to propel yourself forward. Even when your energy wanes, even when you don't think you can go any further. Even after you've felt like you've been giving and giving of yourself.

It's faith. In someone, in something, whoever or whatever that may be to you.

The question is, how do you call upon it? Especially in the often-hurried pace of work life?

How do you breathe life into your days? What makes you feel spirited?

growing

Recently I've started feeling this pressing need to go through my email inbox. I tend to be very sentimental, and I keep emails the way I used to keep handwritten letters. Going through my inbox, re-reading emails from all the way back in 2004/2005 (YES I know I'm very behind in cleaning my inbox) has been quite an experience. It's interesting to re-visit where I've come from. It was like re-reading a journal of sorts. Looking back is also important to see how much I've grown. How my thinking has changed, how my horizons and worldview have widened, and how my resulting self-awareness has increased over the years. What a journey it's been!

I came across an old email that I wrote to a friend in September 2006 when I had come to terms with loss, after a difficult year. In that email, I quoted Martin Buber, whose writing we studied years ago in my philosophy courses at the university I attended back home. Buber wrote a book, "I and Thou", and in a nutshell, his philosophy of human existence is about engaging with each other on a spiritual level, in a way that affirms the other person's whole being. (Of course, he articulated it way better than that). He wrote:

Every I-Thou encounter is destined to come to an end; every person who was present in full self-creation and freedom is destined to slip back into the world of It—the world where we recognize one another as bodies and personalities, where we experience and interpret one another through concepts of mind.

     But the rich experiences of being present with other persons of spirit are not canceled by their termination. And we can always be open to new encounters on the level of spirit.

     It is a gift to recognize spirit in other persons. When an I-Thou encounter happens, we may wish to 'freeze' the moment, to make that being present with each other last forever.
     Such flashes of encounter might be like noticing a butterfly: If we grasp the butterfly, we destroy it. We can only rejoice that we are present to appreciate the butterfly for as long as it wants to stay. In memory we can treasure moments of I-Thou encounter. And if we remember where we saw the butterfly before, we can attempt to return to that 'place', hoping for another moment of spiritual encounter.

- Martin Buber

The things that keep us growing....

Oh, and at the end of that email, I wrote: "I'M BACK!"

perfection

 

25 degrees Fahrenheit today, light snow, with wind from the North at 1 mph, according to weather.com.

I've been watching the snow from my window tonight, feeling blissful after a kick-butt, feel-the-burn yoga class and a delicious savasana. The snow is different tonight. It's not the relentless kind that guarantees a half hour of digging out your car the next morning, the way we've had it the past few weeks. Tonight it's falling slowly, gracefully. Without any urgency, any rush.... much like how I feel after this yoga class. The snowflakes are larger than usual, almost like little white feathers. I've only experienced snow for the last six years, and until now I can't get over how beautiful and perfect snowflakes are. Especially the kind we have right now. 

As a child growing up in a tropical country, I've always wondered why snowflake designs or snowflake cutouts (you know, the kind they use to decorate storefronts) look the way they are - rays radiating from a center with intricate lines and details. I just dismissed it, thinking someone just thought to draw them that way. 

Then in 2003, during my first winter, I finally understood. During the first snowfall of the season, I bundled up and went outside. Snowflakes landed on my black coat, and I realized that when you look really closely, that's how they look - rays radiating from a center in perfect symmetry. Well, perfect to my naked eye, at least. But I trust in nature, as nature is the perfect design. When I finally saw a real snowflake for what it was, I was brought to tears. It was a profound experience. I suddenly remembered learning about fractals in school - the idea of a complex structure of self-similar patterns. Yes, I know that there is a mathematical something or other that explains it, which I do not have the ability to explain myself. But looking at this perfection... this is not the work of human hands.

It also brings me to think about the fact that there is perfection in all of us. And it's not perfection in an "egotistical" sense. It's not vanity. It's more like being at peace with the self. When we release judgment, we see our goodness and inner light.

That's another thing that I realize through yoga... as I settle into my space, I settle into being. I meet myself where I am, in perfect acceptance. Without needing to be something other than who I am. Without judgment. Towards myself, or others. Realizing that I am right where I need to be. And there's the perfection of that moment. 

Here's a mantra for a heart chakra meditation: "I am safe. I am whole. I am loved." 

Enjoy the sweetness of perfection.

 

Snowflake image courtesy of Free ClipArt at cksinfo.com.

more thoughts on passion

I am reminded yet again, of how the lines between the so-called "categories" of life become blurry. In an earlier post I wrote about seeking passion - in yoga and in other areas of life.

Work is definitely one area in which there must be passion. Sure, there will always be moments of frustration, or moments of doubt, when the challenges are great. But at the end of the day, there must be passion. This is what gets us up in the morning.

I am fortunate that I have found something to be passionate about early on, and have since worked in the field of early childhood intervention. Years ago, in my first year of teaching, I learned a very valuable lesson from a child and family I worked with, about the inclusion of a child with a disability. That child, that family, and that particular experience was my first teacher. I am humbled to this day, and I owe them much gratitude for teaching me an important life lesson and inspiring me to become a better teacher... and more importantly, to teach with compassion and passion.

I recently had an opportunity to listen to Ann Turnbull, a well-respected professor, researcher, and national expert in the field of special education, through a "webinar" for educators and families. She herself is a parent of an individual with a disability, and she spoke about her son, who passed away last year at the age of 40. He developed a passion for music in early childhood, and this passion for music continued on throughout his adult years. This was her message to the audience of educators and families:

"What passions are you facilitating in the children that you teach, so that they can use this passion as a way to connect with others, to feel self-esteem... as a way to contribute, as a way to truly have a quality of life?" 

Wow. That is a great challenge. It is a challenge that inspires: how do we take action from here?

She went on to say:

"Make room for genuine relationships."

And the most important lesson: "We are not just in the education business, or the rehabilitation business. We are in the dignity business."

These are important lessons, not just for the work we do to practice inclusion in classrooms, but beyond that. In yoga, we talk about yoga "off the mat" - we talk about how we "live" our yoga. Along the same lines, how do we "live" inclusion beyond the classroom? How do we truly include people of varying abilities in our lives, in our communities, so that they have dignity and quality of life?

So why am I writing about this?

Because I think that yoga - which by definition, is union - is also about inclusion. I am not separate from you, or you, or you. Which is why, at the end of a yoga practice, an instructor typically says, "Namaste." The word is derived from the Sanskrit namas, which means "I bow," and te, which means "to you," - "I bow to you." An extended translation is "The light in me honors the light in you" or "The divine in me honors the divine in you." Such beautiful, profound words - but made even more beautiful when it carries over to other parts of our lives: to our relationships, to our work, and everything else. Because what good is my spiritual practice, if it is not truly practiced?

So I am prompted, especially, to think about how I should try to live by these words in my work: to always remember that people are differently-abled, not disabled. To keep in mind that we are not separate, and that by disregarding your dignity I also disregard mine. To never forget to hope... and to be a source of hope. To not just teach with passion, but to elicit and foster passion in others, so that they can live out their passions. Because the purpose of education goes beyond the 4 walls of a classroom.

Because we should all be in the "dignity business."

And so I say to all those children and families who have taught me the most important life lessons, and reminded me everyday about dignity: Namaste. I bow to you. The light in me honors the light in you.

To Gabe and his mother, Mrs. K: Thank you for what you've taught me through your compassion and gentleness.

yoga and writing workshop

For a few weeks now I had been looking for something to do to nurture my creativity, which has taken a backseat to work and academics for quite some time. I had been feeling quite disappointed in my dried-up creative juices. I needed something to take care of ME, but I didn't know what exactly. I knew I didn't have the time to commit to a weekend-long retreat or a vacation. I would just end up feeling guilty and stressing about all the other things I need to be doing, so I knew that wouldn't work. I wanted something that was short but sweet. Something that made me feel like I was going "away", but close enough that I didn't have to drive too far. I wanted an intimate setting with not a lot of people. So I knew what I DIDN'T want.

A couple of weeks ago, I picked up an issue of Natural Awakenings and found an article about an upcoming "Yoga and Writing Workshop". I was intrigued.

It sounded like just what I needed. Four hours long, less than a half hour drive away. Something that integrated body, mind, and spirit. A little yoga, a little meditation and reflection, and writing! I signed up that very same day. It's amazing how God/Spirit/the universe provides.

I was so glad I went! It was a beautiful fall day. The workshop was held in a quiet old building surrounded by trees. I intentionally got there early to take a walk on the grounds. Came across a weathered, wooden bench....pink wildflowers growing amidst a sea of fallen leaves... My feet sinking into the soft earth.

I stretched, breathed, wrote, and listened. I listened to my body, my breath, my thoughts. And I listened to others. We listened to each other. Fifteen strangers in a room, being present in our bodies and minds, writing, and sharing little pieces of ourselves through the written word. We all wrote, wrote, and wrote some more, in a safe space.

I realize how much writing and art enrich my life. I always wish I could do it more. I know I have realigned my priorities for the next few years until I have the letters "Ph.D." after my name. But I have to find ways to receive and take part in small doses of art every now and then. I feel much more balanced because of it.

Here is one of the poems we reflected/meditated on:

The Healing Time

Finally on my way to yes
I bump into
all the places
where I said no
to my life
all the untended wounds
the red and purple scars
those hieroglyphs of pain
carved into my skin, my bones,
those coded messages
that sent me down
the wrong street
again and again
where I find them
the old wounds
the old misdirections
and I lift them
one by one
close to my heart
and I say holy holy

- Pesha Gertler

For more information about writing workshops, click here.

God Is

Ice storm, January 2009

Yoga comes from the Sanskrit word yuj, which means "to join" or "to unite". I've been fortunate to have the opportunity to deepen my yoga practice throughout the years, and although I am still in the beginnings of this yoga path I do realize that one cannot have yoga without spirituality. A yoga practice is really a spiritual practice -- and yoga and religion are not necessarily mutually exclusive. The word yoga means union, after all.

I heard this song at a workshop I recently attended and it really spoke to me of that union.

God Is
You want to know Me? You want to see My face?
I do not age with time; I do not fit into a space
I transcend the capacity of your eye, so who am I?
It is the question of the moment;
It is the question for all time
I am you, and you are mine

I am the beginning and the end
I am the faith in your believing
I am the color of truth
I am the dreamer of your dreams
I am the falling in your love
I am the words of a prayer
I am the silence in the music
I am the music in the silence

I am your father; I am your mother
I am the man who cannot cry
I am the story in your eyes
I am the orphan of war
I am the leper begging on the corner
I am the black slave in chains
I am the Muslim bride who cannot show her face
I am the cross you carry again

I'm all you have forgotten
I am all that you have not been
I am in you -- all of this is within you
Let the journey begin...
I am in you.

- Danielle Rose

happy Thanksgiving!

"Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos into order, confusion into clarity.... It turns problems into gifts, failures into success, the unexpected into perfect timing, and mistakes into important events. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow."
- Melodie Beattie

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Between our inevitable over-indulging today, let's pause for a moment and remember what we are grateful for.

I am thankful for...
my beautiful (and growing) family... Mom, Dad, grandparents, 3 brothers, 3 sisters-in-law, 2 nephews, and 2 nieces born this year!
friends near and far
opportunity and possibility
choices
my job, which to me is more than a job... it's my life's work
waking up to beautiful mornings, like today!
dark chocolate
the gift of movement... our bodies are amazing machines
art
dreams
the journey ahead
... and this mysterious, confusing, yet joyful and incredible thing called life.


Nischala Joy Devi, author of The Secret Power of Yoga, wrote about yoga philosophy according to  the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali. Here is her translation of Sutra II.39:

Acknowledging abundance (Aparigraha), we recognize the blessings in everything and gain insights into the purpose of our wordly existence.

Such abundance in this life!

blessing

Deep peace of the running wave to you;
Deep peace of the flowing air to you;
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you;
Deep peace of the shining stars to you;
Deep peace of the gentle light to you.

- Celtic Blessing

Diwali blessing

May the light of love and devotion shine brightly in your hearts.
May the light of understanding shine in your minds.
May the light of harmony glow in your home.
May the light of service shine forth ceaselessly from your hands.
May the light of peace emanate from your being.
May your presence light the lamps of love and peace wherever you go.

- Diwali blessing by Swami Chidanand Saraswati (Muniji)

I thought this would be timely, since this weekend marks the celebration of the Diwali festival. It is also called the Festival of Lights, and one of the traditions is to light lamps as a sign of celebration and hope for humankind.

Have a great week!