Archive for the ‘Life’ Category

Yoga today: Your wish is my command

The most amazing things happen unasked, like you receive a gift personalized to your very needs. Outside the raucous of communication, someone asks and someone gives without so much as leaving a sound byte in the air. How does this happen?

In our yoga class, traditional Hatha yoga sits along side a modern genteel approach: Modify the pose; Find what your body will allow today; Move do not stay stuck. Such is the language that informs us again and again that “less is more in yoga.” This means that the feeblest of our twists and extensions can leave us feeling invigorated, if only we center our attention to the concept of “ahimsa,” non violence(Do not beat a performance out of your body. Cherish what it can already do today).

This incredible language that weaves the heart, mind, body, and soul of every class, belongs to the intuitive strengths of our yoga teacher, Rafael. This intuitive strength leaves us with that incredible gift exactly tailored to our personal wish. In other words, we receive the kind of class we want for that day.

That single transforming pose enters our practice as if an invisible guiding hand had steered our wish toward fulfillment automatically, magically, without fanfare.

That happened today.I walked in class with an innate need to stretch my lower back, especially that left hip which had borne some sharp pain the previous evening. And what pose should we start off with?–Piegon pose, Bridge pose, variations of the Bow pose and other transitional forms of leg/hip stretches. In the middle of the class I realized the working wonder of this Yoga magic: changing, healing, cleansing one part at a time, one student at a time, one wish at a time. My wish was its command.

That’s how this Yoga gives, fulfills. One can only wonder: How does it happen?

My mom and I are friends. Every time we talk, I am reminded of her mortality, as also the brilliant potential of life. Hope and despair shake me out of my somnolence. I wake up realizing there’s no time for prejudice, hatred, regrets, suspicion, selfishness, loneliness, small complains with life, depression, worry, narcissism. There’s only time to get up, do what needs to be done, and live life fully every single day, every single moment of every single day.

Mortality simplifies things to where we have no excuses for unhappiness. And I dare to drop those excuses every time I talk to my mother.

For, every time I talk to her I come close to seeing how fragile she is, yet how full her conversation runs the gamut of hope, optimism, and a bubbling enthusiasm for life. Often, this conversation is not concerning herself but others; not about how sorry she feels for any number of things but how funny the any number of irate things look to her. So, I linger on with my mom for over an hour sometimes. Balancing a coffee cup in one hand, I listen to her easy chat like we were in touching distance of each other at her old though shiny well kept kitchen table. Like her, it has stains and some creases, but it’s always inviting to anyone who happens to hover around it. “Come sit down. I will make you a nice strong milky coffee,” she might say, “and we will chat, just before starting our chores.”

What do we talk about? Usually she talks and I listen. Like a thirsty dog I lap it all up: how many paintings she made for her many sisters; what silly new fun she had on one those family trips; how she met this wonderful energetic person worth befriending; how I can look forward to my new salwar kameez on the front of which she is going to paint her own pattern; how she sang her new poem in Gujarati in front of a group of friends; how she’s going to write me a letter describing the entire trip she took with her sisters, minute details explained with juicy anecdotes; finally, how I need to start working on the next family reunion with my cousins and, yes, no presents please… on and on.

See how each word has hope and youthful enthusiasm written all over it? I am an addict. Like a baby crying out for its mother for warmth and care I too dwell in the proximity of these conversations because they sustain and nourish my soul. The child in me still craves these rejuvenating connections refreshed every time I hear that voice on the other end.

Yet, God forbid, how would I survive the loss of a precious dialogue? What IF? The thought burrows a dark hole, and I am reminded of the fleeting nature of our time on the phone. The fact is, I am, unlike my mother, a worrier, a pensive person. Yet, in the midst of my fears of losing her over a banale telephone, I hear hope; I hear that even when her voice is gone- ” You speak mom and I will listen or I will talk mom, and you listen” forever at rest-I will step into her shoes. I will meet someone hungry for a voice. Then when I hold up the receiver to say “hello” from afar, she and I will make a wave upon which we both shall ride. Hope will cyphon out of our voice just as it did between me and mom.

As they say, savor the blessing of one another and be a cheerleader to someone as someone else has been to you. Be thankful, receive the gift of the someone else in your life, and pass on the baton. Let a daughter, a niece, a daughter-in-law, a friend’s daughter, a grand-daughter receive the picker upper of a cheerful phone ring, and start one great picker upper of a phone conversation. Talk on………..Pass on the conversation……

In our house we light the evening lamp. Every evening just as dusk falls we refill the oil lamp, clean the wick, and then ignite the first small flame to dispel the darkness. Among the many traditions of my homeland India this one is the most universal and basic, if you will, a ritual that our family and all other families have observed for generations. Then in the beauty and personal liberties possible in our transplanted American life, we continue this tradition with even greater meaning, I imagine.

Back home, some things were simply taken for granted. Like lighting the small silver lamp, “samai” in our tiny, non-ornate altar. How ornate could it get in the cramped match box style “flat” in Mumbai? Still, mother would usually leave whatever she was doing to take care of the chief twilight business- go brighten the wall altar in our kitchen and invite goddess Laxmi’s auspicious presence. Laxmi followed the footsteps of the incoming light, however small, knocking only on those doors that had illumined Laxmi’s path with the first welcoming light of the evening hours. The rest, those that had forgotten to light the “samai,” she would dutifully forget to visit.

Lighting the “diwa” always involved chanting the evening prayers– invocations to goddess Laxmi to enter the abode and bless the household with health, wealth, and happiness. One line says, “Since I bow to the brilliant flame of this light, destroy all the ‘enemy tendencies’ that reside within.” Without ever paying much attention to the significance of this small daily practice in our childhood, the memories of that lit altar stay with me to this day. There is something to be said about oil lamps or candles and how miraculously they change the energy of a room. The bright lit candles along the church pews at a friends evening wedding, many years ago, stirred similar feelings of quiet, tranquil beauty. Acknowledging light, and then ushering it in, through the gentle resolute way of lighting a lamp or a candle during the fading hours of the day keep me linked to the chain of this long line of tradition that continues to hold meaning for me in ageless, boundless ways.

I remember Grandma’s hands joined quickly in prayer, even as her eyes shut instantly, just as soon as someone flicked on the only light switch of her living room. Always amused to see this programmed reaction, I now wish for the same depth of feeling and gratitude as the unfailing devotion of this resolute woman. She did not let by a single turn of the light, without acknowledging her nod to its divine presence. That’s why we light the evening lamp in our house, because of my mother and grandmother and all our combined families put together so that we too may acknowledge the power of light over the presence of darkness, wherever we are.

The Devanand yoga center, is not a regular place for yoga, it is truly a community. Through the many years of the yoga center’s existence, the center has been dedicated to provide opportunity to participate in what a yoga commune we understand it to be. We are so grateful.

People do not seem to understand what it means when we explain this center to be a non-profit center. Our culture many times trains us is disbelieve and/or distrust. We truly are a group of individuals that wants to offer an opportunity to experience yoga non-commercially. We desire of this yoga center to be very personal. We do want the best, the most individually significant experience for each present. We do not care who the practitioner is, young, wise, in shape physically or spiritually, skin color, language, religion. We are interested in the REAL you. We want to really offer the opportunity for each to experience their true identity, our real Ego. We want to share what we have learned, and continue to learn. We want to continue to grow together, in support of each other. We understand this center is not for all. We are looking for that special person that is looking for “that” experience, that personal experience, through our body and mind, to remember our spirit.

In the Devanand yoga center we try so hard to bring an honest sentiment of caring and love to each activity of the center. We try not create expectations, because many times they bring disappointment. However, we always put our heart and soul when we are there. Sometimes it is more successful than others, and it is ok that way too. We will keep practicing…

We do think back on the many eyes, and voices, and hearts we have seen. We are so humbled to think back of all these years of seva, service for the love of others. This is our motivation to see the thousands of people that we have touched, and that have touched our souls.

Our only prayer is to continue to have the strength and clarity of mind to maintaining this space open, our center, your center. You are the special people that make this a special place. We only hope for the future; we gain motivation from the past; we want to serve in the present!

Namasté!

I wish I had more to give you. Everyday, you offer me a way to silence my shuffle. God knows where this urban unrest comes from? Yet, in the soft amber light of the glowing candles we pause. Closing eyes is an option we can all take sometime. But what about the endless sinister suggestions that keep brewing a channel right down my middle? I am still rendering a new stop sign to that battle. “Give up already, I tell myself.” “No more tracking life, I admonish.” But I must keep admonishing myself. All the time.

Yesterday, your face looked beet root red. I concentrated on the trail of music, your brand of notes that lead us forward, and thought every new beginning made sense. For every new beginning makes a silent restoration of the past. Thus I paid homage to every ending note and stayed energized through every commencement. It would sure anatomize a new life. So when I glanced at your face and saw the flash of color spread across its horizon my hand rose tall and my arm lifted out from right underneath where will beats indifference. There I found my mystery buddy who awoke and responded to your daring happiness every time you raised or lowered the melody.

Just wanted to say I was there; I harmonized despite the battle and you showed mercy in flicking my flaws. Swept off my feet shall I say, by this Yoga!

Once you entered in the yoga center, you knew there was something special about this place.  The moment I saw you entering into the center, I knew there is something special about you.  The center is different, mystic, gentle, quiet and full of energy at the same time.  It is the place where we all leave our worries out, and throw ourselves in the arms of that energy in it.  It is with expectation, curiosity that you come through that door.  And I am so glad you did.  You never knew you were going to find you…

You come and participate with many words, weird words, Sanskrit words; and we chant together.  We take turns to listen to each other, to let the mind quiet down.  You let these powerful chant enter your being, and elevate your mood, prepare you for class.  Maybe you come and sit and participate, even without saying a word, with your hearts, and your own energy.  Your internal smile that breaks all barriers.  You gently close your eyes, looking inside, looking for your own truth, your heart.  You move your breath that just sits unmoved, holding keeping your deepest energy, inside.  And, you are reminded to just simply let it out, to exhale.  With that exhalation all the daily layers are peeled off, and you find your Self opened; the shoulders drop, the chest softens.  Then movement dances along with your breath.  Movement that invites muscles and nerves, bones and joints, fluids and blood, move in places you had forgotten were there.  The skin becomes alive, the senses deepen inward, and we feel moving floating, swimming in an ocean of energy; all seems intangible, maybe not logical, but equally real.

Sweat and effort come through your body.  The body takes you to places in your mind maybe forgotten.  Memories, distractions, things that were inside come running out.  The mind tries to hold on to things in the past, or expectations of the future.  The mind jumps, kicks, rebels, protests… Finally, the asanas take you deeper; you surrender.  The breath is fluent, the mind quiets down, the heart truly opens, the senses travel to unfathomable peaceful places.  We reach savasana…you let go, floating like a leaf carried but gentle wind.  Deep, imperceptible breath.

That special you that has walked through the yoga class at this little center in Houston – once or many times – has extended.  You are now everywhere.  You are in all corners of Houston, Clear Lake, Conroe, San Antonio, Austin, Galveston becoming

a doctor, Fort Davis being sharing yoga with others.  You are now in the East coast getting a better education, and the West coast pursuing your writer dreams.  You are North, way South, back in your home country.  You are in the UK, Netherlands, India, China, Colombia, South Africa, France, Costa Rica, Australia, Mexico… you are still in our hearts.  You make this yoga center.

I see this special person, walking in the yoga center.  That special heart.  That special soul, still part, connected.  I miss you.  I love you most for all that you give and that you are – really.

Namasté.

Just sitting around the fire place, in those magic moments, with friends that we find only by the Grace of God.  We had just finished a wonderful meal, after offering it with beautiful mantras that made the act of eating more than feeding the gut, but enlivening the soul.  We were discussing life, laughing, being with each other, just like good friends can do.  In my heart there is great sense of gratitude, and at the same time of wonder, “What have we done to deserve such great people in our lives?”  The conversation turns in the most joyful directions, between fun memories, future planned trips, reflections on our daily lives, sharing on their spiritual wisdom.  It was such a pleasure to be together.

Our dear friend shares this wonderful story that just traveled deep inside of me.  I thought it was very powerful and with a great deal of wisdom, just like he is.  I thought important enough to share.  He sat back and those lively eyes full of compassion and wisdom, and narrated the story.

“There was a very wealthy business man who had a very brilliant son.  They were celebrating with friends and family the son’s graduation from college.  The father over heard the son on his over-confidence that he did not have to do much in life to always be content.  The son was glowing in the glee of inexperience and innocent arrogance of youth.   The father challenged his son with a bet.  He would give him one million dollars at the end of 5 years if he could survive without any human contact.  He was not to see, talk, or touch any human being for this period.  The son immediately accepted as long as 2 conditions were met.  His father had to provide shelter, food, and books.  The father conceded.  He placed him the following morning in the separate quarters in the back of the house, without any visual contact with anyone.  The father would provide all meals, placed under his door, without any human contact.  All books that the son required were provided too.

The son, stayed for the long duration of five years without any contact with any human being.  He simply read and received his meals on time.  The father had no contact with the child and went on his business for five years too.  Both parties kept their promise.  The millionaire father started second guessing his decision to give his young son one million dollars as the due date approached.  He found all kinds of reasons and excuses not to part with his hard earned money.  The father was taken over by the sinister desire of killing his son, as the only way to keep his money.  The night before the deadline, the father snuck into the quarters where his son had lived for five years.  He was determined to kill him.  He approached the building and the room with skilled silence.  There was no noise, as in expectation of what would happen.  As he approached his son’s room, he found the door wide opened.  He walked and found nothing inside the room, except a small note.  The note said, “I ran away because I have found wisdom and happiness.  I did not want to wait until tomorrow morning when the money would have tempted me.  I rather live without the temptation on my own. Love, Your son.”

So many emotions were going through my mind and heart.  I could see how many of our lives have been deviated from their itinerary, simply by distractions on the way.  We look, even if we do not want to, for those things that glimmer around us.  We do constantly forget to be humble, to live humbly, to live simply, and simply live.  It is difficult to trust the process, the presence of Divinity in our lives; although it is there, even if we do not acknowledge it.  Is it possible to just live in loving surrendering…?

I thought in sharing this beautiful short. Hope this will move you as it has moved me. Yoga is that connection in all of us…

I have decided to stay away from the fuss and buzz of the holidays. It is not easy to do because this has been one of the most important celebrations since my earliest memory. This season brings so many reminiscences of special moments. Solitude and retreat has been a good way to find a new perspective.
I grew up in the Southern Hemisphere celebrating Christmas, in a very Catholic family, with wonderful days of warm summer – not exactly your typical White Christmas. In a house full of boys, five of us, and one baby girl, I looked forward the end of the school year, which runs March through December. What a better way to celebrate than with Christmas! The 24th was the big event. It usually involved the opening of presents after a sumptuous dinner and champagne at midnight – I am not sure toasting was so much the preferred way of baby Jesus…but I digress. We also prayed, gave thanks, placed the baby Jesus on the Nativity Scene, ate turkey and mashed potatoes, dried fruits, and other delicacies my mom made from scratch. Understandably, I was more interested and expectant for the presents! Can’t forget the tree; it was a feature of our family tradition, our very own, very green, very plastic (now over 40 year old) tree! My mom decided one year she would organize scavenger hunts for clues for each present. It started with clues hanging on our tree. She did that for each and every one of us! This also made the search of each present, not as many as we wish or they could afford, a much more exciting and longer lasting ceremony. After the commotion of presents, way past midnight, it was the time for firecrackers. They were as dangerous as they were fun! Bedtime was very delayed in this very special day, and not a very silent night.
One of my early Christmases, I recall, money was tighter than usual. The economy, a large family, harsh job conditions, made this year quite scarce. My parents still managed our traditional dinner, slim but complete. However, that night, we went to bed without our scavenger hunt. We were old enough to understand not to expect much, but young enough to still wish it. As we woke up the next morning we found a single present at the foot of our bed. That was the best neon green machine gun I had ever not wanted. It truly meant so much that my parents gave me a toy, when we were all hurting. I was moved because I recognized how much love and sacrifice that “machine gun” symbolized.
Christmas was never the same since. I think that experienced changed me. It helped me realized that it is the intent behind the gift, the emotion and thought behind the giving. It was not so much about material presents but about rescuing the significance of the celebration. I realized then that it was the daily presents – food, clothing, but most importantly their biggest investment, education – their demonstration of their constant love, and not a one day event.
As I started my quest for a spiritual practice, this season became the time to find rebirth, and stayed away from the single-present mindset. Many years I traveled to different countries to spend the time from Christmas Eve to New Year’s Day in retreat. Thus, the holidays became a time of introspection. It meant fasting from solid food, complete silence, and whole days in mantra meditation – just so much fun!
It is not surprising now, over three decades later after my green machine gun, that I find myself in an ashram for the holidays. I truly find this time of pausing a process of cleansing the old mirror of my mind. The more peacefulness I surround it with, the more it reflects my deeper Self. The cleaning part is the hard part; there is so much to clean! There are so many skeletons, so many challenges, so many things to forgive and heal. However, it is harder ignoring it. It is just like trying to ignore washing the car – it just does not get any cleaner, not even if it rains!
I find, however, as much as I believe for many of us, the most important part is just showing up – getting here and surrender to the process. It is like jumping on the yoga mat. It is a way to rediscover what is important, that love is, truly what we all look for. Although this may seem escapist, really it is here, at this ashram, that I am finding ways to still be of seva (service). I love others by doing service. St. Francis says, it is in giving that we receive. I do believe that is what I am here to do, as all of us.
However, it is never easy, and I do not expect it to be. We do simply need to pick up the clues along the way; the presents are there to be found. Just trust.
I simply want to use these days, these few hours to be holly, real holidays.
May we all find love.

We are getting ready to one of the most important events in the year on our western world.  We are coming to the end of the calendar year.  These days can be so important physically and emotionally, but certainly spiritually.  ‘Tis the season for giving, celebrating, and welcoming new beginnings!

Yes, even in my older days these days are still full of significance.  In Christmas, Hanukah, etc, is all the symbolism of a spiritual rebirth.  Our western traditions pushes us to celebrate this rebirth.  We think of giving, sharing with loved ones, saying good bye to the old, and welcoming the new.

It is a special time of the year.  It is special because we think of all the many ways we can give thanks to the people we love.  It is the time of the year when we can take the time to plan out a special present, moment to show our gratitude towards the ones around us.  This is the time of the year where we extend our eyes beyond our family and friends to generously provide for others in need.  And this year has been a difficult year for many of us or around us.  Let’s give generously – from our heart. 

“What to give?” becomes our quest!  Simply, let us give time.  Should we start with ourselves?  Our inspiration and sincerity will become clear when our body and mind are connected, when we are in tune with who we are.  Take the time to stop, breath, reconnect.  Thus, our time with our loved ones, family or friends, will also be more significant.  Let’s give more of our time.  Real time.  Time is love.  Love is in demand.  We forget to be present, rather than to give presents.  It is the experiences shared in that time, not the price tag, the true gift.  Gifts are important, but maybe there is a most effective route to demonstrate our love.  A smile, a small note, a hand held, a time to listen, those are the memories that become gifts. 

I was recently reminded that love is the best healing gift you can offer to someone.  When we are able to spend time, to sit, and lovingly listen, then magical things happen.  God, Providence, Spirit, Mother Nature, Winter always, all ways invites us to tap into listening.  The entire city was invited to experience the beautiful and intriguing phenomenon of snow.  It only took a few minutes for me to be outside and just stand in awe…and listen.  I could truly listen through the silence of Nature.  It was in that moments that I experienced that internal conversation.  Those seconds were sufficient to become aware of that internal fire inside of me – that strength that gives, welcomes, experiences, forgives, empathizes, celebrates.  It is in that spirit that we find our fortitude to offer that peace to someone else.  I had to turn to a total stranger and share the moment of snow, quietness, joy!

We are always reminded, ‘Tis the season to give; to give of one Self.