July 2021 Tidbits
Yogaś-citta-vṛtti-nirodhaḥ
Yoga (yoga) [is] the calming [nirodha) of the movements (vr̥tti) in the field of awareness (citta).
Patanjali's Yoga Sutras I.2
(If “geeking out” on subjects such as yoga philosophy is your thing, then check out Dr. Ronald Steiner’s website by clicking on https://www.ashtangayoga.info/philosophy/).
Still Forest Pool ~ Ajahn Chah
Try to be mindful, and let things take their course.
Then your mind will become still in any surroundings, like a still forest pool.
All kinds of wonderful animals will come to drink at the pool,
and you will clearly see the nature of all things.
You will see many strange and wonderful things come and go, but you will be still.
This is the happiness of the Awakened One.
HEALTH
The following video of John Bultman* may be a helpful source of inspiration for getting back up after serious injury: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oVsu3ROR9No (~ 15 minutes).
*”John Bultman is the Ashtanga Yoga Program Manager for the Contemplative Sciences Center (at the University of Virginia) where he manages the Ashtanga Mysore Yoga program, teaches credit classes and is involved in documentation of yoga practices. He is one of approximately 30 Certified Ashtanga teachers world- wide and has made 12 trips to India where he continues his studies with his teacher Sri Sharath Jois. He has kept a daily Ashtanga Yoga practice for over 16 years.”
WISE ACTION
Give a free month of Waking Up, and help a friend, family member, or colleague take the crucial first step toward discovering their own mind.
Your friendly push could be the catalyst to a more fulfilling life. And as always, the app is available to everyone whether they can afford it or not.
To give a free month, simply copy the text below and send it to a friend.
Join me on Waking Up. I’d like to give you a free month to experience the app for yourself. Go to this website and enter the promo code to get started.
Website: wakingup.com/free-month
Promo Code: FREEMONTH
STORY
Two Buddhist Monks were once traveling together down a muddy road, where a heavy rain had fallen. Coming around a bend, they met a girl in a silk kimono and sash, unable to cross a muddy puddle in the road.
“Come on, girl,” said the older monk. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her over the mud.
The younger monk did not speak again until that night when they reached a lodging temple. Then, when he no longer could restrain himself, he said, “We monks have rules about touching females. Why did you do that?”
“I put her down hours ago,” said the first monk. “Are you still carrying her?”
~ A ZEN STORY
(from Wisdom Seeds by Augusta Kantra, p. 17)
POEM
RELAX by Ellen Bass
Bad things are going to happen.
Your tomatoes will grow a fungus
and your cat will get run over.
Someone will leave the bag with the ice cream
melting in the car and throw
your blue cashmere sweater in the drier.
Your husband will sleep
with a girl your daughter’s age, her breasts spilling
out of her blouse. Or your wife
will remember she’s a lesbian
and leave you for the woman next door. The other cat —
the one you never really liked — will contract a disease
that requires you to pry open its feverish mouth
every four hours. Your parents will die.
No matter how many vitamins you take,
how much Pilates, you’ll lose your keys,
your hair and your memory. If your daughter
doesn’t plug her heart
into every live socket she passes,
you’ll come home to find your son has emptied
the refrigerator, dragged it to the curb,
and called the used appliance store for a pick up — drug money.
There’s a Buddhist story of a woman chased by a tiger.
When she comes to a cliff, she sees a sturdy vine
and climbs half way down. But there’s also a tiger below.
And two mice — one white, one black — scurry out
and begin to gnaw at the vine. At this point
she notices a wild strawberry growing from a crevice.
She looks up, down, at the mice.
Then she eats the strawberry.
So here’s the view, the breeze, the pulse
in your throat. Your wallet will be stolen, you’ll get fat,
slip on the bathroom tiles of a foreign hotel
and crack your hip. You’ll be lonely.
Oh taste how sweet and tart
the red juice is, how the tiny seeds
crunch between your teeth.
