MorningMysore

Sad News

Hi all,

I’m very sad to announce to all of you that had registered for or planned to register for Tim Feldmann’s workshop that due to the death of his father Tim has asked us to cancel the April workshop at YIY. He will be at his father’s funeral that week. Tim will reschedule with us when he is able, in the mean time Sabina will begin processing refunds tonight. If you want to send wishes to Tim you can look for him on Facebook.

Thank you for your understanding,

Anne, Sabina, Joseph, et al.


Yoga Content: Ashtanga is Bhakti

This is from a series of videos from wonderful David Garrigues from Philadelphia.

“that’s what the practice is its kind of nothing else but bhakti and it’s reflected in the dedication that that it takes, six days a week, you have to be well rested, you have to eat right and be ready each morning to go through that and it’s only it only makes sense in the context of devotion and of a quest for that inner awakening”


Yoga Content: Pushpam Magazine, Issue 1

Check out the Pushpam magazine from the UK that Anne F arranged to bring here. Thank you!

One of my favorites articles from the first issue is Lost and Found: Reclaiming the Magical World of Ashtanga  by Esther Geis. It contains one of the best descriptions of an Ashtanga Mysore-style class I have come across.

 

 

 

Also in the magazine there is a conversation between Tim Miller and the publisher Hamish Hendry. Here is the money quote talking about Pattabhi Jois:

HH – I loved the way he would shout at you, saying you could do it. And then all of a sudden you realize, my God, I really can do it.

TM – He would give an instruction and if it wasn’t followed, he’d repeat it at twice the volume.

HH – He’d get amazing results that way.

TM – Yes, he had a knack for insulting people in such a way that inspired them.

 


Yoga Content: Poem by Hafiz

This is a poem from Hafiz (14th Century Persian), hat tip David Williams

You Say I Say 

You say
“How can I find God?”I say,

“The Friend is lining your pocket…

the curved pink wall in your belly…

Sober up,

Steady you aim,
Reach in,
Turn the Universe and
The Beautiful Rascal
Inside out.”You say,

“That sounds perposterous….
I really don’t believe God is in there.”I say,
“Well then,
Why not try the Himilayas….

You could get naked
And pretend to be an exalted yogi
And eat bark and snow for forty years.”

And you might think,

“Hey, Old Man,
Why don’t you … go shovel
Snowflakes!”

Sutra Discussion Group Sunday March 19

Dear Sutra Discussers,

We will be back with our monthly discussion on Sunday March 19 at 10:00 at Karen’s house, 336 W Dana St, 94041, until 11:30. Bring your translations as usual.

We plan to continue with Karma in Book 2 with sutras 2.16-2.17. This brings us to one of the most famous sutras, 2.16:

Future suffering can and should be avoided
(heyam duhkham anagatam)

To get the most out of the gathering, it is recommended to read a few translations and commentaries beforehand.

You can also listen to our previous discussions at the www.sutratalk.com website.

See some of you Sunday



Yoga Content: Vairagya

Here is a poem from Joseph Goldstein’s “Mindfulness” book:

 
Another day, I went out for some fresh air to a meadow covered with flowers.

While singing and remaining in a state of awareness, I noticed among the profusion of flowers spread out before me one particular flower waving gently on its long stem and giving out a sweet fragrance.

As it swayed from side to side, I heard this song in the rustling of its petals:

Listen to me, mountain dweller:
I don’t want to hurt your feelings,
But, in fact, you even lack awareness
Of impermanence and death,
Let alone any realization of emptiness.
For those with such awareness,
Outer phenomena all teach impermanence and death.

I, the flower, will now give you, the yogi,
A bit of helpful advice
As a flower born in a meadow,
I enjoy perfect happiness
With my brightly colored petals in full bloom.
Surrounded by an eager cloud of bees,
I dance gaily, swaying gently with the wind.

When a fine rain falls,
My petals wrap around me,
When the sun shines I open like a smile.

Right now I look well enough,
But I won’t last long,
Not at all.
Unwelcome frost will dull these vivid colors,
Till turning brown, I wither.
Later still, winds-
Violent and merciless-
Will tear me apart
Until I turn to dust.

You, hermit,
Are of the same nature.
Surrounded by a host of disciples,
You enjoy a fine complexion,
Your body of flesh and blood is full of life.
When others praise you, you dance with joy;

Right now, you look well enough.
But you won’t last long,
Not at all.
Unhealthy aging will steal away
Your healthy vigor;
Your hair will whiten
And your back will grow bent.
When touched by the merciless hands
Of illness and death
You will leave this world
For the next life,
Since you, mountain-roaming hermit,
And I, a mountain-born flower,
Are mountain friends,
I have offered you
These words of good advice.
Then the flower fell silent and remained still. In reply, I sang:
O brilliant, exquisite flower,
Your discourse on impermanence
Is wonderful indeed.
But what shall the two of us do?
Is there nothing that can be done?

The flower replied:

Among all the activities of samsara
There is not one that is lasting.
Whatever is born will die;
Whatever is joined will come apart;
Whatever is gathered will disperse;
Whatever is high will fall.
Having considered this,
I resolve not to be attached
To these lush meadows.

Even now, in the full glory of my display,
Even as my petals unfold in splendor,
You, too, while strong and fit,
Should abandon your clinging
Meditate in solitude;
Seek the pure field of freedom,
The great serenity.

Shabkar the Tibetan yogi (around 1815)