tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59879228443385539172024-02-07T19:07:08.603-08:00Garden Street JournalWritings about Yoga and the rest of life by Karen Sprute-Francovich
Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.comBlogger233125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-91497216448049882572023-01-27T15:07:00.001-08:002023-01-27T15:08:22.032-08:0050 Years of Yoga<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBtbBjOjnoWAR37efVjWNq1CWJ7L12vvKU1wGYQ6i8-kXEazO4w_6MI7qui8X9EdktygymTAK1cAYAfWXmH-fcbAHbxKcxTyB3pK3zx1uHZq5shdsDxta3EpTcY4cmjdU9QfO-s-s7hgXXOGIEdYpuxo2k6y45Mn8jlTOnt8N44YLL5iUFJ5tJos4rmQ/s503/Thread%20of%20Light.tiff" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="455" data-original-width="503" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBtbBjOjnoWAR37efVjWNq1CWJ7L12vvKU1wGYQ6i8-kXEazO4w_6MI7qui8X9EdktygymTAK1cAYAfWXmH-fcbAHbxKcxTyB3pK3zx1uHZq5shdsDxta3EpTcY4cmjdU9QfO-s-s7hgXXOGIEdYpuxo2k6y45Mn8jlTOnt8N44YLL5iUFJ5tJos4rmQ/s320/Thread%20of%20Light.tiff" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">This spring is my 50-year anniversary of starting Yoga. Happy
Yoga Birthday, to me!</span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">When I was 16, the sisters at my Highschool – Marycliff –
brought in Yoga. Wow! We could sign up for Yoga instead of P.E. I was first in
line. Not because I knew what Yoga was but because I didn’t like P.E. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I loved Yoga immediately. I didn’t have words for it then,
but I think I fell in love with how the physical was knitted together with the spiritual
and that a conscious movement form could be like a prayer. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Yoga continued from then to now, as a zig-zagging tessellating
ever-present thread in my life. And by Yoga, I mean the Whole of Yoga –including
meditation, study, and breathwork. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And now I can say this for sure: just like good health does
not mean you don’t get sick, and a good life does not mean you don’t have
trouble, good yoga practice does not guarantee you’ll be fit and happy all the time.
(Sorry! All those magazine covers have been very misleading!) But Yoga does reduce
and gradually eliminate the mental and emotional suffering that life on planet
earth inevitably brings. And it brings happiness for no reason. (<i>mudita” - </i>unreasonable
happiness….happiness for no reason….sympathetic joy).<i> <o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Opening happiness and neutralizing suffering do not require
50 years of Yoga. Believe me, I wasted a lot of time doing my 20s! And I have
seen newcomers to Yoga – even when starting at an older age – do a fast lane into
its benefits. You do not have to be young and flexible and proud to wear tights.
(oh those magazine covers!) Any age, and any ability, is the perfect place to
start. Just start. You will not be disappointed. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Here's one of my favorite poems to help me say the way it
is for me vis-à-vis Yoga and celebrate 50 years of this practice, that has been a thread I've followed. I've held on to it and it has graciously and reliably never let go of me. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><b>The
Way It Is</b> by William Stafford<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><i><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">There’s
a thread you follow. It goes among</span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><i>things
that change. But it doesn’t change.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><i>People
wonder about what you are pursuing.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><i>You
have to explain about the thread.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><i>But
it is hard for others to see.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><i>While
you hold it you can’t get lost.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><i>Tragedies
happen; people get hurt<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><i>or
die; and you suffer and get old.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><i>Nothing
you do can stop time’s unfolding.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><i>You
don’t ever let go of the thread.</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-57724501735479310712021-06-09T10:52:00.018-07:002021-06-15T09:44:21.399-07:00WHY YOGA?<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></b></p><p>
</p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;"> If someone asked you "what is the goal of Yoga"? what would you say? It might be a brain-stopper of a question, right? Read on..............</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Why
YOGA?</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">The deeper tradition of Yoga in the lineage of tantra says that to
practice yoga is to gradually but inevitably gain a greater <b><i>Recognition </i></b>of
the Light within, the Light in all things and all beings. </span><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Or -
in different words, to learn to see G</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">od in all things, as all
things. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">For yoga / spiritual practice to be effective, three things
have to come into alignment</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><ol start="1" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">VIEW.
Our Vision of Reality; The View we are cultivating.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">AIM.
Motivation for Practice (Pure Aim)</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">MEANS.
The Practices Themselves</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></li>
</ol><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">VIEW</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">View:
The vision of Reality we are aligning with</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: 11.25pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><i><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">“The light is One and cannot be divided.</span></i><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">” </span><i><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Sri Abhinavagupta</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">“There
is a light that shines beyond all things on earth, beyond us all, beyond the
heavens, beyond the highest, the very highest heavens. This is the light that
shines in our heart.” </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">-Chandogya Upanishad<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">T</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">here
is ONE LIGHT. You are It. It is you.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> MOTIVATION FOR PRACTICE</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Align with Pure Motive (Pure Aim) by asking for it, with a </span></i></b><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Prayer:</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Almost everyone begins yoga with a motivation that is unclear or </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">that does not align with the View. These are referred to as "wrong" motivations" or "impure motives" not in a moralistic ways but simply because they do not line up with the chosen View. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The 3 main "wrong aims" are: </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">practicing to fix something wrong with your self; </span></span></li><li><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">practicing<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> to feel a certain way - like "</span>great" or <span style="font-size: 12pt;">blissful</span></span></li><li><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">practicing<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> to get "power over" for example to be stronger and </span>more powerful than the average "ordinary" person; or <span style="font-size: 12pt;">to look really good, sexy, which gives one sexual power. </span></span></li></ol><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">To cultivate a motivation for practice that aligns with the View that there is "One Light" and you </span>are<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> not separate, begin your practice (whether it is asana,
pranayama, meditation, etc.) with a prayer for Pure Aim. Here are 2 examples –
but best to make your own prayer. Make sure your prayer lines up with the view and to do so it should have all 3 parts: self, god
and others.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">May I practice out of love for myself, to help me to see, more and more often, god in
all things, in all beings; and to be in service to all beings (or to extend kindness, genrost8y and compassion to others). . </span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Beloved Who I do not yet know (do not yet recognize) I welcome That which you
would have me serve; I welcome that which you would have serve me…. all
obstacles removed – no resistance remains.</span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Gradually but inevitably, Pure Aim will become your default
motive, which deeply increases the impact of your practice.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="color: #002060; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">MEANS – THE PRACTICES - SADHANA<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">"Means" are the practices themselves and the ways of practicing that make one more prone
to Recognition or One Light, God in All Things. .<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Whether your practice is asana, pranayama, meditation, etc. do it in a way that aligns with your view. Practice with love for yourself as an expression of One Light. Practice in devotion to that One Light, in you7rself and all beings. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">The Anusara alignment principles are exceptionally reliable in the way
they help align Practice with Aim and View:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">1. Open
to grace. </span><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: Arial; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;">Beginner’s
Mind is necessary. <i>Sukumara</i>: fresh, open, ready, and childlike; This is
first principle.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">2. Draw
in (be here now; fully present; intimate). Muscular Energy.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">3. Having
drawn in, you connect with your very essence, the light at the center of you
and all beings. It will shine out. “You” will shine it out in full
participation with the light you have connected with. Organic Energy. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-spacerun: yes; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-spacerun: yes; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-spacerun: yes; text-indent: -0.25in;">Repeat.</span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p>
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<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--></p><br /><p></p>Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-91932269965320155402021-02-08T10:09:00.015-08:002021-06-14T12:19:04.188-07:00Lineage<p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn1hDiidAeqTwBg2CaJj9rdKMMNvHSA31efiaMZtBU6YoO8-lC7nH1JVm-JV1TAr0WrqouTHC3NgmY6QL58n8w04KO28qKwpBFbMgtqKfhVVADq71h-eybfleW0PvZauQROiUMVv8wjVWO/s259/images.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn1hDiidAeqTwBg2CaJj9rdKMMNvHSA31efiaMZtBU6YoO8-lC7nH1JVm-JV1TAr0WrqouTHC3NgmY6QL58n8w04KO28qKwpBFbMgtqKfhVVADq71h-eybfleW0PvZauQROiUMVv8wjVWO/s0/images.jpg" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><span>A long-time student - one of my "yoga-kids" - (she started studying with me at 16) recently wrote to me and asked me "what is my Yoga lineage".</span></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Here is my reply.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span>"I do not know if it is
relevant to your inquiry – but before I answer I will tell you that I used to
long for a tidy answer to the question “what is your lineage” ….as if it could
help me locate myself in the wild swell of the universe and give me a feeling
of legitimacy in the weird, hijacked pop-culture that sometimes goes by the
name of Yoga.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span>But now I do not feel that longing. I think I finally trust
my patchwork integration of a variety of lineages and with having a transdisciplinary
approach to Yoga and to the Sacred.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span>So – That is my disclaimer before writing my not very
comforting response :-)<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span>I grew up in a Catholic family that had a deep devotion to the
path of the Sacred Heart. I still feel that the Christ spirit is a planetary
Guru. And I have a great devotion to the Mother which I originally knew by the
name of Mary. But now that Sacred Feminine goes by a variety of names
(Magdalene, Quan Yin, Shakti) or by no name. I do not really worry about it
because whatever name She goes by, She is the Goddess or the MA, in my homemade
lineage of the Heart. -<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span>My early Yoga life was based on Iyengar and the lineage classical
Yoga of Patanjali.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span>I studied and practiced deeply in the ways of Taoism
including Chinese Medicine and Qigong.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span>Iyengar and Taoism were not – for me – pathways of the
heart – but were incredibly valuable parts of my journey and still are.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span>I found Anusara and recognized it as a kind of homecoming
for me – Home to the Heart. And also, there is the lineage that gave rise to
Anusara: Nityananda, Baba Muktananda and Guru Mayi. (All of which I honor to
but do not feel to be my “my lineage”.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span>I have studied – and continue to study - long and deep with
Paul Muller Ortega and Blue Throat Yoga and the lineage of Kashmir Shaivism –
which now goes by teh name of Shaiva-Shakta tantra.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span>And of course, there is Lee Lozowick – the ultimate
Patchwork master for me). There is a lineage that goes with Lee too - Swami
Papa Ramdas – to – Yogiramsuratkumar -
to Lee. But I mostly resonate with Lee and his teachings.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span>I respect and am grateful for – feel blessed by - all the
lineages I mentioned here – but do not really feel I can say any one is “my
lineage”.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span>My sadhana is a patchwork. But I know without a doubt that
at the center of my sadhana is the Heart.</span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b><span face=""Arial",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"> </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span>“The Way It Is” by William
Stafford</span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span>There’s a thread you follow. It
goes among</span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span>things that change. But it
doesn’t change.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span>People wonder about what you are
pursuing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span>You have to explain about the
thread.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span>But it is hard for others to see.<br /><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span>While you hold it you can’t get
lost.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span>Tragedies happen; people get hurt<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span>or die; and you suffer and get
old.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span>Nothing you do can stop time’s
unfolding.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span>You don’t ever let go of the
thread.</span></span><o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2PQnf1IIAQ7zyrgBXD55YWdFxnmYuS2I9aH_gznz_kkSryx_g1GhXHnKenFEtZlMhPbM3wy5PLf1BZmI-FMX8Kn2op3IEApro15373KG5vA0RJNKTItM20kIjop8PGfz7tec-h8KMH4z8/s503/Thread+of+Light.tiff" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="455" data-original-width="503" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2PQnf1IIAQ7zyrgBXD55YWdFxnmYuS2I9aH_gznz_kkSryx_g1GhXHnKenFEtZlMhPbM3wy5PLf1BZmI-FMX8Kn2op3IEApro15373KG5vA0RJNKTItM20kIjop8PGfz7tec-h8KMH4z8/s320/Thread+of+Light.tiff" width="320" /></a></div><p></p>Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-4665137578590871722021-01-31T14:37:00.036-08:002021-02-01T13:33:16.723-08:00SUNDI The Place Between<p> </p><div class="WordSection1">
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: center;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5fQQa8jXL2JQ8lH3gMbDWjVW1R9020lYuRScKD_ZVl3l2pJ5nGeXIimEnbVvVqxIf_AMgCcXGXxCb2aiTqhO8mNDeUlsuhR9g_8bW_6WiAAxuNJU2N1c6Lqb7GfqH7CE35ftOuAXweQrM/s1024/Karen+Three.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5fQQa8jXL2JQ8lH3gMbDWjVW1R9020lYuRScKD_ZVl3l2pJ5nGeXIimEnbVvVqxIf_AMgCcXGXxCb2aiTqhO8mNDeUlsuhR9g_8bW_6WiAAxuNJU2N1c6Lqb7GfqH7CE35ftOuAXweQrM/s320/Karen+Three.jpg" /></a></div><br /> <span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Sanskrit word <i>sundi </i>refers to the space between two
actions. Or between "this thing and the next" - like a doorway.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">A familiar sundi is the space between
preparing food and eating it. Maybe we pause and honor that sundi, perhaps by
saying grace. Other examples are dawn and dusk, significant sundis in the daily
cycle. And there’s Sunday, the sundi between the weeks. A profound sundi,
recognized by women who have given birth consciously, is “transition”, a potent
quiet place between labor and birth, that is so powerful and filled with
Shakti, that it feels like the eye of a storm of Grace.</span></div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In the sundi there exists possibility, a potential for an
opening to Grace, to something new. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">In Yoga practice - asana, pranayama, and meditation - there
are many sundis. In fact, these practices are well-designed to help us
recognize and expand the magic of the sundi - of then "place in the
middle”. For example:</span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">The centering at the beginning of a Yoga class
is a sundi between the busy world of 10,000 things, and the focused time of
practice. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In asana, we learn in very physical ways to
recognize the quality of a sundi. For example, we pause and connect to
foundation and breath to make a skillful transition between poses. And we
practice Tadasana as a pose which honors the place between poses.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Pranayama offers a wonderful awareness of sundi
as it cultivates the pause between breaths, whether a gentle pause or a
retention of the breath.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Meditation pivots awareness deeply within to a
vibrating silence; at the end of a meditation, it is good practice to pause and
honor the sundi, a liminal or transitional place, before your awareness moves
fully outward to life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In that way the
energy of the meditation can follow you back out into your life.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Savasana can be a way to practice the Sundi
between life and death (well OK - maybe just between yoga class and the rest of
your day). <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There is sundi just after a Yoga or meditation
practice when you can consciously offer the fruits of the practice outward.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Whether on the mat or off the mat, sundis ask us to pause
in recognition, and in that pause to expand the middle space between inward
introversive awareness and outward manifesting awareness. We naturally and
gradually learn to honor this pause between things rather than rushing forward
to the next task or the next thought or the next …. [fill in the gap] …(Pun
intended.) One benefit of all this is that we do not lose or drain off the
energy that was cultivated in the practices but instead it builds and gives a
good reserve of energy to use for our day.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Sundis
offer us opportunities to enter a relationship with the Divine which lives in
the “space between”.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">To begin our day by
dwelling in the sundi a bit is to begin our day with “the Beloved” – or with
the Sacred Mystery” if you prefer, gathering Itself more firmly to us so It can
follow us back out into our lives.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Once the day begins, we are almost always moving in an
entrainment with a multitude of schedules and logistics and demands on our time
and energy, doing the dance of outward moving awareness and manifestation.
Often, we roll out of bed and into the world without even an awareness of the
blessing of the sundi between sleep and waking, and then we march lockstep
through our day all the way to sleep and miss that important sundi as well.
While our busy day truly is the blessing of embodied life, it is more possible
to awaken to that blessing if we learn to pause in the sundis – the between
spaces. David Whyte expresses it beautifully in his poem “What to Remember When
Waking.”</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">~~~~<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What to Remember When Waking<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In that first hardly noticed moment in which you wake,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">coming back to this life from the other<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">more secret, moveable and frighteningly honest world<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">where everything began,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">there is a small opening into the new day<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">which closes the moment you begin your plans.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What you can plan is too small for you to live.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What you can live wholeheartedly will make plans enough<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">for the vitality hidden in your sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">To be human is to become visible<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">while carrying what is hidden as a gift to others.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">To remember the other world in this world<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">is to live in your true inheritance.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">You are not a troubled guest on this earth,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">you are not an accident amidst other accidents<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">you were invited from another and greater night<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">than the one from which you have just emerged.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Now, looking through the slanting light of the morning
window<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">toward the mountain presence of everything that can be<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">what urgency calls you to your one love?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What shape waits in the seed of you<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">to grow and spread its branches<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">against a future sky?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Is it waiting in the fertile sea?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In the trees beyond the house?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In the life you can imagine for yourself?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">In the open and lovely white page on the writing desk?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">from The House of Belonging, Many Rivers Press<o:p></o:p></span></p>Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-77182607462974702902021-01-06T11:25:00.009-08:002021-06-14T12:20:21.888-07:00 Envelope<p><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal"><a name="_Hlk47799707"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></a></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzREGjyMECA06VL7BPR56IRnOZPrzwMxCLpKkN742s4tsocdY36t_CgHAnJVhzO4nA51QyoSAtEYnJ5GZ6i2ML9LFaV8A9OGApE_5ioEB-pttZ0VhtZORL5GRTi0cN3zmTXZFtd70uH0l8/s897/Devi-Chameli.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="256" data-original-width="897" height="114" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzREGjyMECA06VL7BPR56IRnOZPrzwMxCLpKkN742s4tsocdY36t_CgHAnJVhzO4nA51QyoSAtEYnJ5GZ6i2ML9LFaV8A9OGApE_5ioEB-pttZ0VhtZORL5GRTi0cN3zmTXZFtd70uH0l8/w400-h114/Devi-Chameli.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrPcTFLdXRLPLGG2qfObups_6D-ePEAaZ0nkloebC3Dm8A5s5suNP0ksIly6LxkNhSEJmYwxc8qU8KumSAlDY1FCSxedjSsCQn7sBuPljfjZQMKl4CDR91CpGhZhd_lx7o7qnVa1u3nyFV/s347/images.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="145" data-original-width="347" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrPcTFLdXRLPLGG2qfObups_6D-ePEAaZ0nkloebC3Dm8A5s5suNP0ksIly6LxkNhSEJmYwxc8qU8KumSAlDY1FCSxedjSsCQn7sBuPljfjZQMKl4CDR91CpGhZhd_lx7o7qnVa1u3nyFV/w400-h168/images.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p>
</div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A few days ago, I
saw a young woman in remarkably high heels, “dressed to the 9’s”. It reminded
me of being in my 20’s when I would sometimes dress to the 9’s, heels and all,
and go out to dance with my women friends. I still remember how full of delight
that envelope of my life was. But now it would be empty, a flattened-out
envelope if I were to try to recreate it.</span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></span></p></div></blockquote><p> </p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In my 30’s we had
babies and made a home that became an envelope full of love and protection and
potential. It stayed that way for years. We called that envelope the “pink
house” (because the house was pink!). Eventually, the energy, (shakti) of the
pink house envelope flattened out and it was time to move on. If we were to try
to go back to it somehow, it would be a bit ridiculous, trying to squeeze who
are now into that envelope of then.</span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I could draw the
same envelope analogy about career, business, teaching, pastimes, and
practices. Like everyone else, I have been co-creating envelopes that fill with
shakti, envelope me, and eventually flatten out.</span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Maybe because it is
the New Year (or the Christmas after-party) I’ve been contemplating “what do I
love, now?” What envelope or envelopes does my heart want to maintain, create,
or re-create now? I have had so many heart-made and shakti filled envelopes in
my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some are still full, and some
emptied out long ago. What are the longings of my heart now? I know the
envelope of my heart itself felt a bit flattened out by 2020. And I want it
full again. I long for a renewed fullness of heart.</span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The Saiva-Shakta
philosophy that underpins Anusara Yoga says that longings are God / Shakti
(operating in me, as me) yearning to create and fill envelopes. The Invisible
longing to make Herself visible by slowing, contracting, enfolding, and
encoding Herself to become embodied life. She creates an envelope of Herself
and fills it with Herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><span style="font-family: arial;">She creates
“mom-velopes”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My mom used to hand me
envelopes full of cash when we lived in the pink house and never had enough
money. When we would get together, she would slide an envelope to me (she
seemed to think I should keep it a secret, which I kind of loved doing for some
reason). She was being “mom” – generous and unstinting. Now I think of the
Divine Feminine / God, as a bestower of mom-velopes. (And, for the record, I
now give my sons mom-velopes)</span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The next part of
this post is philosophy. It is fascinating – to me at least - but stop reading
here if that is not your love. And go create or maintain some good envelopes
and fill them with the wild generosity of your heart. Keep it simple and
doable. Call a friend. Clean your house and make it beautiful. Pour yourself
into a creative project. Like that. It is time for all of us to momvelope the
world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><span style="font-family: arial;">OK – back to the Big
Picture painted by Tantra. Shakti steps down through a vibratory spectrum, from
pure energy to root and bone, to become our manifest world, to become you and
me. This philosophy tells us that we are unbounded light with a gravity laden
root.</span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><span style="font-family: arial;">As an analogy,
consider Joan Ruvinsky’s interpretation of Sutra 6 from the Recognition Sutras:</span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><i><span style="font-family: arial;">Way up north in the
Arctic there is a huge bay called James Bay at the mouth of which there are
mega hydroelectric dams that capture an astronomical amount of energy that gets
sent through miles and miles of thick high-tension wires that deliver the power
to step-down transforming stations all over the countryside with tall cylinders
and insulators that are fenced in and decorated with “danger high voltage
“signs. And there are smaller wires that lead out from here along the highways
and byways and then to the road right outside your house where there is a pole
and a little gray canister which itself has a wire leading out of it right into
your house and you plug in your toaster, make toast, plug in your washing
machine, and do the laundry, charge your cell phone and computer to communicate
with everybody everywhere. And we call this reducing valve Maya it would be all
over for you and your cell phone if you plugged it in at the mouth of James
Bay. Without Maya’s reducing valve action, the teacup would be shattered by the
ocean.</span></i></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Unbounded light and
love, like James Bay, or a vast Ocean of Light, uses Maya as a contracting
valve to step down and modify and moderate Her flow all the way down to my feet
and toes at the bottom of the of the tattva chart where I live and breathe.</span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just so shakti reduces herself, folds herself
into a multitude of momvelopes most wondrous. Including you and me.</span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">She flows into the rivulets and arteries and
lymphatic channels of my body. Condenses into central channel, sushumna,
slender as a spider thread, brilliant as a million moons. She modifies Her hugeness
so that me and my cell phone don’t blow into 1 million pieces. So that the
teacup of my embodiment is not shattered by the ocean. So that Her Love is
encoded and enfolded into a manageable envelope of embodiment. In this way I can begin to see my small-self
humanness as a kindness and a goodness rather than seeing myself as a mistake,
an accident on the earth, a problem to be solved.</span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Here is another way
to think of it: when a high frequency sound is slowed to a lower frequency, we
can hear it and enjoy it as music, language, poetry and so on. Just so, when
the Sacred Mystery slows Her vibration, it allows the sky to touch the earth,
it lets the earth hear the sky. These two, like lovers, continually and
perennially meet at the “place in the middle,” (the hridaya) said to be located
at the heart center of each of us.</span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The soul reveals itself to itself through
gesture of hand, foot, spine, face and body. The invisible loves the visible.”
(Radiance Sutras)</span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This process of
enfolding into manifest physical form takes tremendous vitality. It is no
casual thing to fold the sky into a root. It is no small feat to genetically
code pure energy into conception and new life. The vitality and vast energy of
the sky that is coiled within us is always yearning to expand to the freedom of
unbounded light and flight. That is the essence of the story from Hindu
mythology, about Garuda. the eagle-god who is Vishnu’s mount. In the great epic
Mahabharata, Garuda first bursts forth from his egg and appears as a huge cosmic
energy, so vast it frightens even the gods who beg him for mercy. Garuda hears
their plea and as an act of love (for God so loved the world) reduces himself
in size and energy, steps down to a manageable dimension.</span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Often, we live and
breathe in a very narrow band of the vibratory spectrum. Small envelopes. Or
envelopes that long ago flattened out but we still shuffle them around on the
desk of our life. Or maybe we just stopped trying to r-e-a-c-h past inertia and
fill an envelope that is still alive and waiting for attention.</span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I have had fun
contemplating the year ahead in this way. Asking myself “what envelopes of
possibility are waiting for me to co-create, renew, refill? Is there a new
“never-before-seen” envelope that is drawing my curiosity and excitement? Or an
envelope that wants to be renewed – but needs some love and attention?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Asana practice can
be a powerful method to push out the edges consistently and repeatedly of what
we think we are. Much bigger than “this body only”. And yet, this body too is a
miracle of a momvelope.</span></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk47799707;"><o:p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></o:p></span></p></div></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-20509588639208841432020-03-31T12:09:00.000-07:002020-03-31T19:22:29.289-07:00Life Energy - Shakti - is inherently and wildly generous.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3frUoHZvDfsE5LatjqMRX8sst2IJQIx__2MdSQAE3aq1Hvc84VGZvK3BvHZrWigtq9z_5Uqnm6PhPQkLueYWJxXGM6X96ohKjpnbFNnjF76OB502bAmCpmuzrlhBq4yD4Q904Mdo3Ifs_/s1600/Giant-White-Dahlia-V_sRGB_600x600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3frUoHZvDfsE5LatjqMRX8sst2IJQIx__2MdSQAE3aq1Hvc84VGZvK3BvHZrWigtq9z_5Uqnm6PhPQkLueYWJxXGM6X96ohKjpnbFNnjF76OB502bAmCpmuzrlhBq4yD4Q904Mdo3Ifs_/s320/Giant-White-Dahlia-V_sRGB_600x600.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Life Energy - Shakti - is inherently and wildly generous. Shakti is
the Divine feminine. She is awakened creation emanating out from the still
point - Shiva - </span>like a vortex wheel or a blossom, here and
now, in you as you, in your life as it is. She is embodied, organic and
tremendously alive.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Shakti's
generosity is expressed in Leonard Cohen's song "Come Healing":<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">.......</span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The longing of
the branches<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">To lift the
little bud<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The longing of
the arteries<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">To purify the
blood</span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>....</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If I accept life
as it is, exactly as it is, I give life - Shakti - permission to move in my
life, to shower me with the generosity of Her amazing Grace. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And then I can -
I must - express that same grace outward with unstinting generosity.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I can't force
ripen or force-blossom Shakti. I must open and wait and accept Her in my life
as it is. Just as the dark night must be faced before dawn can appear. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My Sanskrit
teacher Dr. Katy Jane Poole writes: </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"It's a test, my friend. Can you
face that dark night? Can you have faith?<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The
word for "faith" in Sanskrit is Shradda, "the feeling of an
expectant mother." She has no other choice but to sit and wait. <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Rest
assured, the moment of change is coming. It's inevitable. You just don't know
what it is. And you can't control it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">…………..The
dark night of the soul isn't supposed to be fun. <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The whole world
is in a pregnant waiting pattern. Sometimes Shakti makes us<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>wait, makes me sit where I am and face
the unknown where I can't see anything. But you know what? I say <i>YES </i>to
Shakti even in her dark phase. A big <i>YES</i>. In a practical sense, for example, I am taking the
"flatten the curve" effort seriously. I take it on as a practice not so much for
myself personally but for the whole world - like a prayer for all beings. Just
because I am lucky to live in a sparsely populated area does not entitle me to
ignore the efforts of humanity to flatten the curve. When I have the impulse to "not comply" I name it in myself as "my will and my way".<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Instead, wait.
Open to grace. Listen deeply. Practice. Surrender to waiting. Don’t measure the
waiting.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The image of a
Lotus works beautifully here. </span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Ta_GscM5sCgeihjBR4N-bylXvceSqJp4ZcpYNXSHDWlZsdyjcfY3syt1cyOWRrrDKGPznYkryAG0Ype4m2QnkwYtXmstjuy1eT4HQXReJKgG-vnzRuT_3l33zYPThNCeZF1403ixHPXH/s1600/hands-flower-lotus-.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="465" data-original-width="800" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Ta_GscM5sCgeihjBR4N-bylXvceSqJp4ZcpYNXSHDWlZsdyjcfY3syt1cyOWRrrDKGPznYkryAG0Ype4m2QnkwYtXmstjuy1eT4HQXReJKgG-vnzRuT_3l33zYPThNCeZF1403ixHPXH/s320/hands-flower-lotus-.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjr-fJeES5bbncmw35t3Wwcbsgs2UtawdI7_d73a0RAI7ZFaIgvxwnQqwmSkWEBxKuPI_EHV-t4qHaDrYEx1XN9vtX4PJWDqX38GvANMJKtLEPz_vugQ5Amz9kQY41CNvjp77LcGoUctkc/s1600/lotus-pink-light-purple-.webp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="280" data-original-width="446" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjr-fJeES5bbncmw35t3Wwcbsgs2UtawdI7_d73a0RAI7ZFaIgvxwnQqwmSkWEBxKuPI_EHV-t4qHaDrYEx1XN9vtX4PJWDqX38GvANMJKtLEPz_vugQ5Amz9kQY41CNvjp77LcGoUctkc/s320/lotus-pink-light-purple-.webp" width="320" /></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>First:</b> surrender to the grace of gravity - your roots in the mud. Dark. Waiting. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Second:</b> grow a "stem". You will need the muscular energy and discipline to engage principles of alignment and right action. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Third: </b>Open, shine outward. Let the lotus blossom and your heart open to the world. Offer it out as prayer or a blessing - however you can serve
the generosity of Shakti.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And begin again.</span>
<br />
<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Open... to the grace of gravity. Sink your roots in the mud.
Not knowing. Wait. Surrender to Life - as it is - here and now.</span></li>
<li><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Align... Muscle
energy and discipline.</span></span></li>
<li><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Expand...your heart in an expression of fierce and sweet generosity. Shakti will show you ways to do this even while you shelter in place. </span></span></li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">And begin again.</span></div>
Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-37925090915975109702020-03-11T10:34:00.003-07:002021-06-14T12:22:00.215-07:00Meeting the Light Completely<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzlMzbQYJaH4BBd-OQecvcWbDvKoFqGNjdoJOiRMfkbI-4PqRFqONRNM5uVONWMaf2nSJZtv8GaK022woFbUL1nrvzI6Zxy8PlCOdT6ZfZY_9eLFGc69lhd8-CIOD1WvPlq_zGVmRmXSf4/s1600/cracking-open.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="221" data-original-width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzlMzbQYJaH4BBd-OQecvcWbDvKoFqGNjdoJOiRMfkbI-4PqRFqONRNM5uVONWMaf2nSJZtv8GaK022woFbUL1nrvzI6Zxy8PlCOdT6ZfZY_9eLFGc69lhd8-CIOD1WvPlq_zGVmRmXSf4/s1600/cracking-open.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span>I swim laps two or three times a week. At </span></span><span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">the</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"> pool I have gotten
to know - sort of - the other regular swimmers. W</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">e don' t really stop and chat, what with being scantily
clad, goggled and swim-capped. But still we recognize one </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">another</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">. I frequently see a guy who is extremely large.... probably 300 -
400 lbs. Sharing a lane with him is no fun because he swims like a tsunami and
I get water up my nose. So, when I see him trolling for a lane to share, I make
sure not to notice, not to make eye contact. And I spread out in my
lane doing big sloppy strokes to make it look like I am a very bad
lane-partner. I hope he will move on. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">It is a non-namaste
moment: The "Light in me" is definitely </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">not seeing
"the Light in him". </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">But a few days ago – after
spending the whole weekend teaching a Yoga Immersion with the theme of “Open to
Grace" / "Open to the Light", and really aiming to practice just
that, to embody it, I went swimming. He was there. Trolling for a lane. Lo and
behold – he seemed lovely. I felt friendliness towards him. He seemed
vulnerable and real. Just a fellow swimmer doing the best he can. A perfectly
imperfect human like me. And I waved him over to share my lane. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">I don’t see the world as it is – but as I am. </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Sadhana </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">(practice of yoga, meditation, contemplation,
prayer, etc.) is how I gradually but inevitably train myself to align with the
Light, to meet the Light inwardly more completely. The "Light" goes by many names (God, Sacred Mystery, Universe, etc.).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Union / communion with
the Light within, when I experience it, feels like a glow or a light at the
center of me (</span></span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">sushumna</i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">), an inward meeting of the Light. When I meet it,
align with it, </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I have no doubt whatsoever that it is Love that is literally holding me up. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><span>When I have turned
inward to the Light - to Sacred Mystery – the Light follows me back out into
the world. And at least for a time, I see the Light outwardly more
clearly. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Meeting the Light
Completely” by Jane Hirshfield.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">Even the long-beloved</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">was once</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">an unrecognized
stranger.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">Just so,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">the chipped lip</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">of a blue-glazed cup,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">blown field</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">of a yellow curtain,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">might also,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">flooding and falling,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">ruin your heart.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">A table painted with
roses.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">An empty clothesline.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">Each time,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">the found world
surprises—</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">that is its nature.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">And then</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">what is said by all
lovers:</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span>“What fools we were, not
to have seen.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Because Even the Word Obstacle
is an Obstacle” – by Alison Luterman</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">Try to love everything
that gets in your way:</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">the Chinese women in
flowered bathing caps</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">murmuring together in
Mandarin, doing leg exercises in your lane</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">while you execute
thirty-six furious laps,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">one for every item on
your to-do list.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">The heavy-bellied man
who goes thrashing through the water</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">like a horse with a
harpoon stuck in its side,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">whose breathless
tsunamis rock you from your course.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">Teachers all. Learn to
be small</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">and swim through
obstacles like a minnow</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">without grudges or memory.
Dart</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">toward your goal, sperm
to egg. Thinking Obstacle</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">is another obstacle. Try
to love the teenage girl</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">idly lounging against
the ladder, showing off her new tattoo:</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">'Cette vie est la
mienne', This life is mine,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">in thick blue-black
letters on her ivory instep.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">Be glad she’ll have that
to look at all her life,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">and keep going, keep
going. Swim by an uncle</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">in the lane next to
yours who is teaching his nephew</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">how to hold his breath
underwater,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">even though kids aren’t
allowed at this hour. Someday,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">years from now, this boy</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">who is kicking and
flailing in the exact place</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">you want to touch and
turn</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">will be a young man, at
a wedding on a boat</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">raising his champagne
glass in a toast</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">when a huge wave hits,
washing everyone overboard.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">He’ll come up coughing
and spitting like he is now,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">but he’ll come up like a
cork,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">alive. So your moment</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">of impatience must bow
in service to a larger story,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">because if something is
in your way it is</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span><i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;">going your way, the way</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span>of all beings; towards
darkness, towards light.</span></span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-30871816712354593472020-03-04T10:26:00.003-08:002020-03-10T11:49:50.273-07:00One Chord - One Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_CmrBfeFg-VWWGLsez3tAVCDTbD_3I7U7weN5Uui7ifSEbLrL0bk3TZR4iYpTAPHuq7Asf8pN6mUt10QAdy95jS6pm1puZ87EEMeMRNeNlWJePH1MbWG1Y-sVuw-X3vob5QtISM3k3Giu/s1600/parvathy-baul.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="276" data-original-width="183" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_CmrBfeFg-VWWGLsez3tAVCDTbD_3I7U7weN5Uui7ifSEbLrL0bk3TZR4iYpTAPHuq7Asf8pN6mUt10QAdy95jS6pm1puZ87EEMeMRNeNlWJePH1MbWG1Y-sVuw-X3vob5QtISM3k3Giu/s400/parvathy-baul.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Bauls of Bengal* are wild, gypsy-like lovers of God.
They are committed to the realization of the Inner Beloved, to “remembering
God”. They sing thousands of devotional songs, and dance and perform as ways of
praise; they practice asana as a way to “remember God”. Their traditional garb
is a patchwork garment, signifying their commitment to a singular reality -
that reality being Love - made whole only by disparate pieces coming together
in a unified, purposeful whole. They sing their songs to the accompaniment of
an ektara* which is a one-string - one focus instrument. (the root "<i>eka" </i>means "one"<i>) </i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I can think of no better image for my practice! To be
committed to the singular reality of one light-one-love-one-heart made whole
only by the disparate<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>parts
of myself coming together for the unified purpose of love. I do have quite a
few disparate parts: spine, rib cage, personality
constructs, preferences, aversions, to name a few.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">That "one-light-one -love" is described by the Yoga Tradition as situated right at the middle of the "heaven-earth" axis of my upright posture and is called the <i>sushumna, </i>very much like the one-string of the Ektara. The </span><i style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">sushumna</i><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> is described as being "slender as a spider’s thread and brilliant
as a million moons", a most powerful ektara; a unifying organizing chord of
remembrance. It can – if I tune to it - magnetically, energetically and
elastically draw the disparate parts together into a unified purpose: Love.
Remembrance of the sacred Mystery, within and without.</span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Yoga has been many things for me, but the Ektara of Love – the song of the Heart - has been a steady chord. I have often forgotten to
tune to it. But nevertheless, it sings inside me, ever-present, never-absent.
It continues to inform and transform, to take me apart, to undo me and
re-organize me again, slightly more attuned each time, each iteration, to the
music of the one-stringed call of love. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And in case all this sound just sooo esoteric, it is and it is not. It is
also very physical. My body is the instrument, the ektara if you will. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">For example, right now as I am contemplating all of this,
the singular chord of sushumna / organizing principle, if I tune my awareness
to it, asks me to drop my ribs. I do so and feel such relief! I can breathe
more freely. My diaphragm is dis-inhibited. In the next moment my ribs might
jut forward, diaphragm inhibited, ease of breath and ease of being receding.
But no effort, no remembrance is ever wasted. The call of the ektara continues.
And each time I answer it I draw closer and more magnetically home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Or this example: in response to the call of ektara –
sushumna, I soften back from front body into back body. This brings my rib cage
over my hips which in turn allows my three diaphragms (pelvic, breath and
throat) to align with one another, which in turn activates my body-wide
myofascial core, which in turn allows my chronically tight psoas to relax. And
I am remembered – even if only for a few moments – to the felt sense Real-ness
of being literally held up by the one light of love, slender as a spider
threat, brilliant as a million moons. I am in that moment remembered and
remembering. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Remembering is an activity. As the ektara / sushumna
continue to call me into yoga / union, my activity gradually but inevitably
transforms both on and off the mat. For example, back body awareness and psoas
release will gradually but inevitably decrease my tendency to push through and
work harder, out of a survival cramp of forward- moving, reactive, front body
grip.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">To close I will riff off of Charles Bukowski’s poem Blue
Bird.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><i>There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out…..</i>so I
tune to the chord of sushumna-ektara….and the cage she is in (made of the
disparate – dis-membered – desperate parts of me) begins to open and melt…. and
then reform into a unified whole aligned with the love, the original tenderness
and organic energy that the bluebird is. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">*My guru, Lee Lozowicki and our school or lineage, call
ourselves Western Bauls as we have so much in common in terms of philosophy and
practice with the Bauls of Bengal. A combo of tantra and bhakti paths.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">* The ektara is also known as a gopi-chand. (Gopi is a
cowherd – a devotee of Krishna; Chand is Moon; the Gopis danced in ecstatic
devotion with Krishna under the light of the moon)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-22552707342050919312020-02-19T09:30:00.002-08:002020-02-19T11:59:35.155-08:00Sufiman <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpVKT4WI0u1fmH6UHU5RFVdhVYud66j3ZF2-zKKuEWvRot-DkG0Tzkyrsl3YULwKk1oSPmhlyeHbqVFSIYKur0BNNQ7hqaL0cKRcigREvMVJ3o9If7Jfa2FkalckisTrgSuWXxOK_nJJyV/s1600/superman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="935" data-original-width="748" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpVKT4WI0u1fmH6UHU5RFVdhVYud66j3ZF2-zKKuEWvRot-DkG0Tzkyrsl3YULwKk1oSPmhlyeHbqVFSIYKur0BNNQ7hqaL0cKRcigREvMVJ3o9If7Jfa2FkalckisTrgSuWXxOK_nJJyV/s320/superman.jpg" width="255" /></a></div>
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<i>"The Sufi men stood in a circle around the perimeter of the room, their swords held upright and vertical in front of them. They did not move or speak. They held a silent, strong circle of protection, a contained chamber within which the Sufi women taught, offering powerful wisdom from their lineage."</i> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
Recently I got lucky – or engineered some luck – and visited
my ashram (Lee’s School) for 6 days to be in the company of women, most of them
my sangha sisters and most of us elders. We sat in circles of conversation,
contemplation, study and discussion. We spent one evening learning to do the “bottle
dance” (from fiddler on the roof) dancing around with water bottles on our
heads! <o:p></o:p></div>
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All the circles and activities were twined together by good
food, good company, sunlight, and deep practice in a place on planet earth that
is super-charged with prana-shakti. So – like I said – I got lucky. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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In one of the circles of elder women, the topic came up regarding the health, or otherwise, of the masculine and feminine principles in the
world and in ourselves. One of my fierier sangha sisters argued with passion
that the Feminine Principle is doing fine. (This being in response to a meme in
the culture that says we need to awaken shakti, strengthen a wounded feminine,
and so on). I felt my whole body-mind immediately agree her. I DO feel that the
Feminine Principle - in me and in my life - is strong. Healthy, alive and well.
My sangha sister went on to say that it is the Masculine Principle that is
weak. And blessings on her that she asserted that it is not just weak out there
in "those men" but inwardly in “us women”. I have thought so much
about this idea since being in that circle. And now I am writing about it. Read
on. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It seems to me that there is a Sacred Masculine, a
secular masculine and a wounded masculine. Sacred Masculine is that in me that
has the capacity to be upright and inner-body-bright, vertically aligned between
heaven and earth in attitude and posture. It is that in me which wishes to keep
me from falling away from the clear light of my own central channel (<i>sushumna</i>).
The Sacred Masculine principle helps me to stay steady, not waver, when outer
circumstances (physical, injury, illness, old age; mental emotional anxiety,
grief, anger, disappointment, politics, etc.) are challenging. The Sacred Masculine
– in its power, protectiveness and ability to stay in place - is in service to
the arising of the Sacred Feminine which includes original tenderness, sweetness,
vulnerability and innocence but also sadness, grief, broken-heartedness and longing.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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Then there is the secular masculine. The secular masculine
in me is strong enough. It knows how to be a good worker. Work out. Be strong
for the sake of being strong (rather than in service). The secular masculine in
me is that personality construct which tends to be a workaholic. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And thirdly is of course the wounded masculine which I
can so easily find examples of in the world and in history. And in myself. The wounded
masculine also knows how to be strong and tough and uses that strength to do harm.
The wounded masculine in me is that personality construct which tends to be a
bully. I sometimes bully myself in fact. And bullying is not just about the
physical. There is passive aggressive and subtle bullying which is even bully-er
than the physical. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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An image for a healthy Sacred Masculine came to me
through a description offered by another of my sangha sisters. She told us of her
experience of attending the world parliament of religions where she was in a
teaching space offered by the Sufis. The Sufi men stood in a circle around the
perimeter of the room, with their swords held upright and vertical in front of
them. They did not move or speak. They held a silent, strong circle of
protection, a strongly contained chamber within which the Sufi women taught,
offering powerful wisdom from their lineage. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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The work of cultivating the sacred Feminine and Masculine,
of healing and restoring the balance of the world, is mine to do within the chamber
of my own heart-mind-body. That feels wonderful and urgent. Wonderful because I
can’t change others or the world – not really. I can only do my own work. And urgent
– because I <b><i>must</i></b> do my own work. Live and practice in such a way
that cultivates a strong silent, protector energy in service to the opening of
an equally strong original tenderness and love. Letting Love in. Letting innocence
and sweetness arise and also learning to bear the sadness, loneliness and longing
of the broken heart that only God can heal. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-76428784246055607822020-02-04T11:36:00.001-08:002020-02-04T16:12:48.009-08:00 God and Fish Paleontology<br />
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<img alt="Image result for images god"" src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn%3AANd9GcSrkbASxD6vI9EOxVeYWN-DqiPDBv7KzFFwx7s48htqWyWXJPwF" /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I
have been thinking about fish paleontology since I watched the PBS series
"Your Inner Fish". Once upon a time, a bazillion years ago, the
primordial sea formed itself into fish like creatures (no bones), then
fish-like creatures with a few spine-like bones, then fish/amphibian-like
creatures with 1 bone - 2 bones - lotta bones (arms and hands;</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">legs and feet). And then the primordial sea
crawled out of itself and onto dry land.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Same
thing happened for you and me in the primordial sea of the womb. First we were
fish-like creature with no bones, then some bones, then "1 bone-2
bones-lotta bones” (femur, tibial fibula, ankle and foot bones; humerus, ulna
and radius, wrist and hand bones) You and I as fetuses looked almost EXACTLY
like the primordial pre-fish. If that is not enough to blow my mind open to wonder
nothing is! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">In
our incredibly secular culture, I can't talk about God and make any sense. And
I can't not talk about God and make any sense. But I can talk about the crazy miracle
of evolution and I feel like I am talking about God. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
have been in a process of acknowledging to myself that I don't
"believe" the many stories and beliefs and dogmas and deities that
have grown up around the Sacred Mystery that continues to move and breathe life
forward. I also don't NOT believe in them. It is just that the whole realm of
"belief" is not what is at work in me. A deeper faith is afoot. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
have, over the decades, cultivated and clung to various beliefs as a way - I
think - of sidestepping the mind-blowing mystery of the unknown. But now that I
do not have so many beliefs I am holding to, I have more faith than ever before.
Faith in the wild Love that is repeating itself, replicating itself, growing itself,
fetus by fetus and acorn by acorn. My faith in the Sacred Mystery is stronger
and stronger as I know less and less about what is REALLY GOING ON. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Now
I am at a loss to give the Beloved a name. And the name "Beloved"
does not do it either. I like the Jewish tradition of not writing the Name /
Namah. It lands closer to home with me than names like Shiva or God. And yet, I
love those names too. It is just that they don’t make my mind small anymore. They
are like fingers pointing to the fantastic, anything but small, Mystery of Love
and Light. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
sleep curled up sometimes. Fetus. Primordial fish. Then gradually as I wake up,
my skeletal system engages spine, 1 bone, 2 bones lotta bones. My feet and legs
and hips crawl me out of the primordial sea of sleep. And I stand up and participate
in the crazy-wise mystery of evolution. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Thinking
about fish paleontology has not diminished my awe and devotion to the Sacred. It
makes the aquifer of my faith grow stronger even as the surface waters of beliefs
come and go. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I want to continue to be more and more open to "not knowing", even though it comes with the price tag of increased vulnerability. It is a fair price to pay. Surrender to the Mystery does not take sacredness and love out of
life. Just the opposite. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The
crazy-oh-my-gosh- how-did-this-happen miracle of the primordial sea forming
itself into individual packages of sea water and growing bones. Wow. That is a
miracle for me. And my heart and mind fly open in devotion when I ponder - even
for a moment - the Blessing Force behind it all. (Robert Frost's line perfectly here: "</span><i><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The heart can </span>think<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> of no devotion, greater than being shore to </span>the<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> Ocean....")</span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">It
is all God. And I don't know what That is. And I bow down. Again and
again I bow down.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Here is the poem from which a stole the line:” </span><i style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I can’t talk about God and make
any sense. And I can’t not talk about God and make any sense”.</i></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">What’s
In the Temple – by Tom Barrett<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">In
the quiet spaces of my mind a thought lies still, but ready to spring.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">It
begs me to open the door so it can walk about.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
poets speak in obscure terms pointing madly at the unsayable.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
sages say nothing, but walk ahead patting their thigh calling for us<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to follow.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
monk sits pen in hand poised to explain the cloud of unknowing.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
seeker seeks, just around the corner from the truth.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">If
she stands still it will catch up with her.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Pause
with us here a while.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Put
your ear to the wall of your heart.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Listen
for the whisper of knowing there.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Love
will touch you if you are very still.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">If
I say the word God, people run away.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">They've
been frightened—sat on 'till the spirit cried "uncle."<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Now
they play hide and seek with somebody they can't name.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">They
know he's out there looking for them, and they want to be found,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">But
there is all this stuff in the way.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
can't talk about God and make any sense,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">And
I can't not talk about God and make any sense.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">So
we talk about the weather, and we are talking about God.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
miss the old temples where you could hang out with God.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Still,
we have pet pounds where you can feel love draped in warm fur,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">And
sense the whole tragedy of life and death.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">You
see there the consequences of carelessness,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">And
you feel there the yapping urgency of life that wants to be lived.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
only things lacking are the frankincense and myrrh.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">We
don't build many temples anymore.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Maybe
we learned that the sacred can't be contained.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Or
maybe it can't be sustained inside a building.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Buildings
crumble.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">It's
the spirit that lives on.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">If
you had a temple in the secret spaces of your heart,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">What
would you worship there?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">What
would you bring to sacrifice?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">What
would be behind the curtain in the holy of holies?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Go
there now.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoPlainText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-17304024979345695542020-01-29T09:50:00.001-08:002020-01-29T09:50:27.911-08:00Sunlight Matters<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC28Pa4k2CCRTPHV5x77ZN-MInYNFPVt8DOjuVQUy8GqFj2lorHpN2fZlC-y8fyeAFRJ-9YTp-Dbe8EAnH65fayrJaLK7QK9wXkt5LvLznC0EOY1dITqVbEPeydIsGYNYO-6PDHgLSP-TS/s1600/smack.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="714" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC28Pa4k2CCRTPHV5x77ZN-MInYNFPVt8DOjuVQUy8GqFj2lorHpN2fZlC-y8fyeAFRJ-9YTp-Dbe8EAnH65fayrJaLK7QK9wXkt5LvLznC0EOY1dITqVbEPeydIsGYNYO-6PDHgLSP-TS/s320/smack.jpg" width="228" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have been sitting in front of my new sunlight lamp every morning while I study. I LOVE it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Winter darkness hit me harder this year. I don’t know why. I’ve
always been one to boast that I am not affected by “bad” weather, and that
I could manage my inner weather with diet, exercise, etc. But oh how the mighty
boasters are brought low (that’d be me). This winter, with the dimming of the
light and the endless days of rain/ snow and heavy overcast, my interior weather
followed suit. I was feeling socked in, weighed down by a heavy inner-overcast
and a diminishing interest in “the day ahead” whatever the day ahead had in
store for me. And I was so tired. I started asking people I admire, “do you get
tired”? trying to figure out if being tired was my new “normal”. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt an increasing mental “bias for the negative”
in general and even though I avoided watching the news, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>just thinking about the news depressed me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In an effort to regain some energy and outlook and sunny
days inwardly, I did all the “right things”. I mean I continued to exercise, eat
well, meditate and do Yoga. And I continued to do the “right things” in
moderation – not succumbing to O.C.D. overdoing. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I continued to have a good life, good relationships
and good work. But you know what? Turns out that for me –this year more than usual
- Sunlight matters. And since I don’t plan to be a snowbird and spend half the
year in “name sunny place”, I purchased a sunlight lamp. I have been sitting in
front of it every morning, before 9 am as recommended. I sit for about an hour while I study. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I LOVE it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I noticed the effects within 2 days. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What is a sun lamp?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A sun lamp, or light therapy box, is a special light that
mimics natural outdoor light. Light therapy, also sometimes called bright light
therapy, is an effective treatment for seasonal affect disorder (SAD).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Studies show that light from a sun lamp can have a positive
impact on serotonin and melatonin, improve sleep and wake cycles, restore
circadian rhythms for improved sleep. reduce anxiety and improve mood. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A sun lamp is most used to treat SAD, but light therapy is
also used to treat other conditions, including chronic pain and dementia<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
SAD is a type of depression that begins and ends at around
the same time every year when days become shorter. People who live far north of
the equator are considerably more susceptible than those who live in sunnier
climates. SAD can cause debilitating symptoms, such as feeling depressed most
of the day, low energy, oversleeping and weight gain. Sitting in front of a sun
lamp within the first hour of waking up every day can improve symptoms of SAD
within a few days to a few weeks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Results may be seen as quickly as 20 minutes into the first
session. Since light therapy works quickly and with minimal side effects, it’s
often the first line of treatment for SAD, rather than antidepressants.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-79900582114897412502020-01-22T09:50:00.001-08:002020-01-22T13:52:22.135-08:00Meditation Sorcery<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5KVbKcY9uEytOetq6sPEpIOZSarNC7zqEnIILBjmNc4FgKAzBAKGqEfnY_8-c8v3fjECUjga4kETyXujgYs2z4P-nhQ62cGlEBg-h5Xe3lYxXy_NEuYAgN3D4v7FaTBDRhuXKANF0S8US/s1600/Devi-Chameli.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="256" data-original-width="897" height="91" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5KVbKcY9uEytOetq6sPEpIOZSarNC7zqEnIILBjmNc4FgKAzBAKGqEfnY_8-c8v3fjECUjga4kETyXujgYs2z4P-nhQ62cGlEBg-h5Xe3lYxXy_NEuYAgN3D4v7FaTBDRhuXKANF0S8US/s320/Devi-Chameli.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Meditation is Sorcery. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
It Sources me to the Sacred Mystery</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Re-Sources me to a Force of renewable energy within. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
I close my eyes and follow my awareness along a moonlit path<br />
of breath and sensation to the temple in the secret spaces of my heart. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
I
put my ear to the door of my heart<br />
and listen for the whisper of life force there. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Vibrating silence is there, and the Beloved who I do not yet know.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Even when meditation is filled with busy mind and fidgety body, it
doesn’t matter. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Still I have turned within to the Sacred Mystery. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
And after,
when I open my eyes and begin again with the<br />
10,000 things, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
the Sacred Mystery follows
me back out into the world.</div>
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</div>
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</div>
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<br /></div>
<br />Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-7730339849910003002019-11-18T16:17:00.000-08:002019-11-19T15:52:51.464-08:00Re-Wire for Happiness<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve been listening to a podcast called the Happiness Lab.
As the title promises, it’s about the science of happiness. Taught by Dr.
Laurie Santos, it’s based on her very popular Yale psychology course on the
same subject.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Turns out that to become happier takes dedication. Like in
the Yoga tradition, it’s important to have a sadhana, or regular practice. Yoga
practices, including asana and meditation, as well as “pro-social” practices
like gratitude practice and metta (loving-kindness meditation) work to re-wire
us neurologically. These re-wirements have a clear correlation (via brain study
research) to increased well-being, both physical and psychological. They work.
There’s no doubt about it. But the increased happiness, kindness, gratitude,
physical well-being and mental-emotional clarity that these practices produce don’t
happen overnight or because you’re wishing for them (or because you listened to
a great podcast). You have to practice them. They take work and dedication.
They are forms of sadhana.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Practice – in the Yoga tradition – is called sadhana and is
defined as the work, dedication and discipline of regular activities such as
asana, meditation, yoga, chanting or prayer. Sadhana re-wires the individual
practitioner to a greater Light, within and without, each day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sadhana requires consistent time, effort and even devotion.
Think of a new mother. She doesn’t tend to her infant occasionally, some days
on some days off. She is doing a deep form of sadhana – steady, consistent,
devoted – in order to grow Life and protect Light. Gradually but inevitably her
infant grows. Just as, gradually but inevitably, with steady practice over
time, you grow your own Life and Light.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But if you can’t quite get motivated to do it for yourself,
do it for the benefit of others. Have you ever been walking down the aisle of a
grocery store and someone catches your eye and smiles? Not one of those social
gesture, automatic smiles, but a Real smile from an open and undefended heart?
And if so, did it not lift your own heart and light your own eyes and lift the
corners of your own smile? That is one example of a simple, humble, powerful
way in which practice (whatever the happiness practice of that stranger was)
benefits an “other” (you in that case).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here’s a quote of Dr. Laurie Santos from the first episode
of the Happiness podcast:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Happiness is a very deliberate act. Women’s magazines ask
me all the time ‘Can you give me some 5-minute happiness strategies’?” And I
say, ‘there are no 5-minute happiness strategies.’ It’s true with any kind of
goal in life, it’s not going to happen in 5 minutes on Thursday, it’s going to
be a life-long effort. It’s important to create habits, habits that you
maintain over the course of your life. There’s no quick fix for happiness but
science shows there is a fix if you put in consistent time and effort.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you’d like to become happier, commit to regular Yoga and
meditation; engage an ongoing “pro-social” re-wirement like gratitude
journaling or metta meditation. These are time proven and powerful sadhanas.
But don’t just do them on your own.
Happiness is deeply correlated to relationship and connection. Come to
classes to connect with other practitioners. It is great happiness medicine. And do check out the<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><a href="https://t.dripemail2.com/c/eyJhY2NvdW50X2lkIjoiOTUxNTk0NiIsImRlbGl2ZXJ5X2lkIjoiODcyNTY2OTQxMiIsInVybCI6Imh0dHBzOi8vd3d3LmhhcHBpbmVzc2xhYi5mbS8_X19zPTJmbWhnYnQ1aHppeTVlb21kc3AxIn0" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Happiness
Lab Podcast. </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Listening to a great podcast will not make you happy
overnight but it might, if you’re open, offer you inspiration and motivation to
deepen your life-long practices of re-wirement to the Light.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
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<br /></div>
<br />Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-61549438930720840452019-10-21T16:46:00.000-07:002019-10-22T09:10:10.438-07:00<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Creating a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, </b><br />
<b>from
the Inside Out<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>We don’t see the world as it is but as we are</i><i> and as we
see the world, we create the world.</i> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
(A basic teaching of tantra and physics)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>“Everything flowers from within, of self-blessing.”</i>
Galway Kinnell (full poem below) <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One of my neighbors has a problem with every other neighbor
in our neighborhood. He does not like my cats wandering into his yard. The
other neighbor’s kids make too much noise playing in their yard. A third
neighbor has too many relatives coming and going, clogging up the parking
space. And on it goes. He has created a neighborhood that is a different world
than the neighborhood I live in, though anybody would say we live in the same
neighborhood. We each see the neighborhood not as it is but as we are, and as
we see the neighborhood, we create it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I open my eyes in the morning the world reappears, is
recreated by my brain. It will appear dark or light, a beautiful day in the
neighborhood or problematic neighbors on every side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything opens from within.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t always wake up inside the beautiful neighborhood
part of my brain. It is oftentimes – daily in fact –necessary for me to light a
candle within and place it at the altar of my heart. This simple gesture is how
I self-bless, retelling myself it’s OK, I am not an accident on the earth,
amidst other accidents; retelling myself I am lovely, until the candle at the
altar of my heart catches the flame and the glow opens outward, from within, of
self-blessing. Not waiting for the outer world to affirm me, to bless me. This
is an inside lighting job. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am lucky to have practices that reliably reteach me my
goodness, that light a candle within, creating a brighter vision from the
inside out<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Practices to help light a candle at the altar of your
heart<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To create light, you need friction – complementary
complements – like the positive and negative poles of electricity or like the
friction of striking a match. This is the basis of Yoga – yoking opposites together
to generate a Light from within. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In Yoga asana practice I yoke mind to body, inhale to
exhale, flexion to extension, muscular energy to organic energy, front body to
back body, earth and feet to fingertips and sky. The flame begins to kindle.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In meditation practice I also yoke mind to body, outward
moving mind to inwardly vibrating energy, outward going distraction to inward
moving remembrance. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The flame becomes steady. The light brightens.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Off the mat and into the world, I can bless the mess I sometimes
find myself in – the mess of feeling isolated or “not part of the
neighborhood,” by connecting with others, heart forward. In Yoga classes at
Garden Street this is easy to do and happens naturally as we move and breathe,
sing and meditate together. But other times it takes a stronger effort as, for
example, walking across the street to chat with the difficult neighbor even
though he is not friendly and will not meet my eye. Stay with the friction.
This is yoga. Slowly the candle of our neighborhood connection catches. He
meets my eye and smiles, a bit tightly, but still a smile. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Phew!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This technology – Yoga – works.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Reliably. But not everybody has access to it.
Due to life circumstances, broken brains, and challenging neurochemistry, so
many remain locked in their downstairs brains surrounded by bad neighborhoods.
Anybody that does, by grace of god(dess), know how to self-bless, to set a
light within, to create the world anew from the light within, of self-blessing,
has a great responsibility to do so. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have a responsibility to set a light, to the best of my
ability, to use the tools and practices of Yoga, at the altar of my heart, of
self-blessing, so that gradually but inevitably the light extends outward – as
an outward moving blessing, probably without my awareness. Its not about me. Blessing Force just works that way.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Here is some poetry that inspires my contemplation and
practice of Self-Blessing<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Saint Francis and the Sow by Galway Kinnell <o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>The bud stands for all things, even for those things that
don't flower, for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing; though
sometimes it is necessary to reteach a thing its loveliness, to put a hand on
the brow of the flower and retell it in words and in touch it is lovely until
it flowers again from within, of self-blessing; as Saint Francis put his hand
on the creased forehead of the sow, and told her in words and in touch
blessings of earth on the sow, and the sow began remembering all down her thick
length, from the earthen snout all the way through the fodder and slops to the
spiritual curl of the tail, from the hard spininess spiked out from the spine
down through the great broken heart to the sheer blue milken dreaminess
spurting and shuddering from the fourteen teats into the fourteen mouths
sucking and blowing beneath them: the long, perfect loveliness of sow</i>. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Sweet Darkness by David Whyte<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>When your eyes are tired the world is tired also.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>When your vision has gone no part of the world can
find you.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Time to go into the dark where the night has eyes to
recognize its own.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>There you can be sure you are not beyond love.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>The dark will be your womb tonight.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>The night will give you a horizon further than you can
see.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>You must learn one thing.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>The world was made to be free in<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Give up all the other worlds<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>except the one to which you belong.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>confinement of your aloneness to learn<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>anything or anyone that does not bring you alive<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>is too small for you.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b>It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, by Fred
Rogers<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>It's a beautiful day in this neighborhood,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>A beautiful day for a neighbor,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Would you be mine?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Could you be mine?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>It's a neighborly day in this beautywood,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>A neighborly day for a beauty,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Would you be mine?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Could you be mine?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>I have always wanted to have a neighbor just like you,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>I've always wanted to live in a neighborhood with you.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>So let's make the most of this beautiful day,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>Since we're together, we might as well say,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Would you be mine?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Could you be mine?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Won't you be my neighbor?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Won't you please,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>Won't you please,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>Please won't you be my neighbor?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>Living and Dying with Grace: Counsels of Hadrat Ali (a
sufi Master) Translated by Thomas Cleary<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<i>"There are servants of God whom God favors with
blessings for the service of others and whom God keeps supplied as long as they
are generous with what they have. For if they refuse or withhold, God takes
those favors away from them and transfers them to others.” <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>What to Remember When Waking by David Whyte<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>In that first hardly noticed moment in which you wake,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>coming back to this life from the other<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>more secret, moveable and frighteningly honest world<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>where everything began,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>there is a small opening into the new day<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>which closes the moment you begin your plans.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>What you can plan is too small for you to live.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>What you can live wholeheartedly will make plans
enough<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>for the vitality hidden in your sleep.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>To be human is to become visible<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>while carrying what is hidden as a gift to others.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>To remember the other world in this world<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>is to live in your true inheritance.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>You are not a troubled guest on this earth,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>you are not an accident amidst other accidents<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>you were invited from another and greater night<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>than the one from which you have just emerged.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Now, looking through the slanting light of the morning
window<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>toward the mountain presence of everything that can be<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>what urgency calls you to your one love?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>What shape waits in the seed of you<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>to grow and spread its branches<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>against a future sky?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Is it waiting in the fertile sea?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>In the trees beyond the house?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>In the life you can imagine for yourself?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>In the open and lovely white page on the writing desk?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-45484736817018313962019-05-11T16:52:00.001-07:002019-05-14T16:50:27.503-07:00Incarnation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzPcEbBua60D5irdOI4Fias467H8EmFaZuVNQQL32-JQY5ZEgBRZi9UNfpqj8h43Bf7bDRfbq1VJxDMgZn-zRhyphenhyphene_0MUYXhefkfDTOitu4gA1qDCLxr52C3eYQ-msNfMFB8oOBmyN1c8QU/s1600/happy+old+woman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="373" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzPcEbBua60D5irdOI4Fias467H8EmFaZuVNQQL32-JQY5ZEgBRZi9UNfpqj8h43Bf7bDRfbq1VJxDMgZn-zRhyphenhyphene_0MUYXhefkfDTOitu4gA1qDCLxr52C3eYQ-msNfMFB8oOBmyN1c8QU/s400/happy+old+woman.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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Honor of the Feminine, the Mother principle: She who holds life close to her breast without recoil from <i>incarnation</i>.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Incarnation: literally means embodied in flesh or taking on flesh. It
refers to the conception and birth of a sentient being whose original nature is immaterial.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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prefix in- means “in” and carne means “flesh,” so incarnate
means “in the flesh.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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This Mother’s Day at Garden Street I hosted a one day meditation retreat. Several lovely Yoga friends graciously allowed me to compete with all the other things they could have
chosen to do on a Sunday in May, not to mention Mother’s Day Sunday. </div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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We spent the day together in a generous pocket of silence, breathing, doing Yoga, meditating, resting, rejuvenating and honoring "the Mother". </div>
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I like looking into celebrations like Mother’s Day
and bringing them alive for myself and hopefully for others as well, finding inspiration below the sometimes-plastic surface of holidays. Mother’s
Day has become, for me, a day of honoring the Mother principle - the Sacred Feminine - in men and women
alike. On Mother's day (and all year long,
truth be told) my interest and teaching work is aimed towards practicing
and living in ways that honor incarnation, binding me to the work and complexity of life on planet earth. Earth school is a hard school! Life will most certainly break your heart if you stay alive long enough. It
is not so easy or casual to stay present and open-hearted to all that life incarnate sends
my way. And as I get older, it is becoming stronger work to keep loving, wholeheartedly, when I am <i>also </i>in the gradual but inevitable process of letting go of life and loved ones and my own incarnation too. And yet, I DO want to love more fully and love with arms wide open. In this way, I can honor and draw nearer to the blessing force called "the Mother": She who holds life close to her breast without recoil from
incarnation. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Fear of, or recoil from, incarnation leaves one hovering
above the messiness and inevitable heartbreak involved in being human. This
hovering creates a kind of unease, dis-ease; a feeling of lostness and
disconnection. The medicine for this ailment of lostness is to dial up more courage, dive into incarnation more deeply and bind myself more fully to life: "Down and in" to life as it is, as I am, nothing added. "Just this" in all its glorious
mess. To do this, I must bring my head-brain down and in to my flesh and bone, body incarnate. Until the idea of honoring earth and the feminine is in the body, in the meat of life, it remains just an idea.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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All of this takes a courage and a fierceness that is a part of the energy of Mother. It is sometimes terrifying to do as the poet Rilke urges:
<i>Let everything happen to you...Beauty and
Terror.....just keep going...No feeling is final</i>. Or, as Mary Oliver wrote:
<i>Hold on to life. To live in this world, you must be able to do
three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it
go.</i> ~~Mary Oliver<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The day of practice on Mother’s Day was a day of physical
practice (Yoga asana) as well as meditation: 5 mandalas or circles of practice,
each of which consists of breath-work (pranayama), asana, meditation, savasana,
a short break and then we begin again. By practicing <b><i>together</i></b>, the potency of the practices is amplified. We honored the essence that is the Mother, the sacred
Feminine, in ourselves and in the world, by tethering the seated, eyes-closed practice of meditation
stays to the flesh-and-bone eyes-open practice of the ordinary, daily magic of incarnation.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Below is poetry and inspiration to celebrate the Feminine and the Mother. Enjoy. Thanks for reading!</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b>Lost</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Stand still. The
trees ahead and bushes beside you<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Are not lost.
Wherever you are is called Here,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>And you must treat
it as a powerful stranger,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Must ask permission
to know it and be known.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>The forest
breathes. Listen. It answers,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>I have made this
place around you.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>If you leave it,
you may come back again, saying Here.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>No two trees are
the same to Raven.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>No two branches are
the same to Wren.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>If what a tree or a
bush does is lost on you,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>You are surely
lost. Stand still. The forest knows<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Where you are. You
must let it find you.</i> -- David Wagoner
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>BUGS IN A BOWL by David Budbill <o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Han Shan, that
great and crazy, wonder-filled Chinese poet of a thousand years ago, said: <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>We're just like
bugs in a bowl. All day going around never leaving their bowl. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>I say, That's
right! Every day climbing up <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>the steep sides,
sliding back. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Over and over
again. Around and around.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Up and back down. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Sit in the bottom
of the bowl, head in your hands,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>cry, moan, feel
sorry for yourself. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Or. Look around.
See your fellow bugs.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Walk around. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Say, Hey, how you
doin'?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Say, Nice Bowl! <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Excerpts from The
Duck by <i>Donald Babcock<o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>………. a duck is riding
the ocean a hundred feet beyond the surf. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>There is a big heaving
in the Atlantic, and she is a part of it. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>She can rest while the
Atlantic heaves, because she rests in the Atlantic. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Probably she doesn't
know how large the ocean is. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>[But] what does he do?
She sits down in it! She reposes in the immediate as if it were infinity -
which it is. She has made herself a part of the boundless by easing herself
into just where it touches her. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>The Quiet Power by
Tara Mohr<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>I walked backwards,
against time<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>and that's where I
caught the moon,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>singing at me.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>I steeped
downwards, into my seat<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>and that's where I
caught freedom,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>waiting for me,
like a lilac.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>I ended thought,
and I ended story.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>I stopped
designing, and arguing, and<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>sculpting a happy
life.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>I didn't die. I
didn't turn to dust.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Instead I chopped
vegetables,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>and made a calm
lake in me<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>where the water was
clear and sourced and still.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>And when the ones I
loved came to it,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>I had something to
give them, and<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>it offered them a
soft road out of pain.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>I became beloved.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>And I came to know
that this was it.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>The quiet power.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>I could give
something mighty, lasting,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>that stopped the
wheel of chaos,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>by tending to the
river inside,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>keeping the water
rich and deep,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>keeping a bench for
you to visit.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Message from the
Council of 13 Indigenous Grandmothers<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>As you move through
these changing times ... be easy on yourself and be easy on one another. You
are at the beginning of something new. You are learning a new way of being. You
will find that you are working less in the yang modes that you are used to.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>You will stop working
so hard at getting from point A to point B the way you have in the past, but
instead, will spend more time experiencing yourself in the whole, and your
place in it. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Instead of traveling
to a goal out there, you will voyage deeper into yourself. Your mother's
grandmother knew how to do this. Your ancestors from long ago knew how to do
this. They knew the power of the feminine principle ... and because you carry
their DNA in your body, this wisdom and this way of being is within you. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>Call on it. Call it
up. Invite your ancestors in. As the yang-based habits and the decaying
institutions on our planet begin to crumble, look up. A breeze is stirring.
Feel the sun on your wings.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>May 12th, 2019 - the
GLOBAL STANDING WOMEN event!<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>DECLARATION OF
STANDING<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
We are standing for the world's children and
grandchildren,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
and for the seven generations to come.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
We dream of a world where all of our children have safe
drinking water,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
clean air to breathe, and enough food to eat.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
A world where they have access to a basic education to
develop their minds<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
and healthcare to nurture their growing bodies.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
A world where they have a warm, safe and loving place to
call home.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
A world where they don't live in fear of violence - in
their homes,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
in their neighborhoods, in their schools, or in their
world.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
This is the world of which we dream.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
This is the cause for which we stand.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUGcmZCc8ClU-ps9lIb2M2ZZDv_m-3OKBX_qhL6Udwg7d3F4xe6CCfVjaor64-0FxszIBiIE89001VkDO_MyLdRWdAiTEQphEAfddLl8erjBAkzsT1ZmhcM9BEp0E6YV_PjmKPY0aJWA9X/s1600/tulip+tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUGcmZCc8ClU-ps9lIb2M2ZZDv_m-3OKBX_qhL6Udwg7d3F4xe6CCfVjaor64-0FxszIBiIE89001VkDO_MyLdRWdAiTEQphEAfddLl8erjBAkzsT1ZmhcM9BEp0E6YV_PjmKPY0aJWA9X/s400/tulip+tree.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-65487100119206506852019-03-01T18:28:00.001-08:002019-03-01T18:33:50.393-08:00Coming Home from India<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">This journey home is 36 hours, 3 flights, innumerable
security checks and a pending "jet-lag-from-hell".<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I like it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I like the dream-like feeling of being outside of time. I
mean, what time is it anyway when I get up in one country, layover in the next
and land eventually at home? It’s “no time”, so I let go of time and time let’s
go of me, not something I experience at home except when I’m sound asleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And I like the feeling of being outside of any particular
country or culture. The airport is an in-between place, a crossing over place,
(a tirtha*). It is neither one country nor another. It is a stopping over place
for people from every country (especially at an airport like Heathrow where I
enjoyed quite a bit of coffee and a 7-hour layover).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And I like feeling – for a short time - that I am “nothing
to no one”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As I am typing this, we are flying above the polar cap and
I am really outside of country and time zone, flying through space.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It’s so weird and magical.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As I arrive back into my life and its daily-ness, I know
from experience that it will be both sweet and challenging. Challenging because
I tend to hover above it, resisting for a bit the list of what must be done;
clinging for a bit to being nothing to no one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And then, slowly (I know from experience) I will settle
down into my life. And all will be well, and not; good and not good; easy and
hard; happy and sad. I will sit down in the middle of all those binaries
because that is where my life is happening. A tirtha gives me perspective, an
ability to step back and see more clearly. But the messy of life in the middle
is where I live and love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I’m reminded of one of my favorite poems as I prepare to
sit down into my life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Enjoy! And thanks for reading.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<strong><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-themecolor: text1;">The Duck by </span></strong><b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-themecolor: text1;"><strong><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Donald Babcock</span></strong></span></b><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-themecolor: text1;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-themecolor: text1;"><i>Now we're ready to look at something pretty special. It's
a duck, riding the ocean a hundred feet beyond the surf. No it isn't a gull. A
gull always has a raucous touch about him. This is some sort of duck, and he
cuddles in the swells. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-themecolor: text1;"><i>He isn't cold, and he is thinking things over. There is a
big heaving in the Atlantic, and he is a part of it. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-themecolor: text1;"><i>He looks a bit like a mandarin, or the Lord Buddha
meditating under the Bo tree. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-themecolor: text1;"><i>But he has hardly enough above the eyes to be a philosopher.
He has poise, however, which is what philosophers must have. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-themecolor: text1;"><i>He can rest while the Atlantic heaves, because he rests
in the Atlantic. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-themecolor: text1;"><i>Probably he doesn't know how large the ocean is. And
neither do you. But he realizes it. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-themecolor: text1;"><i>And what does he do, I ask you? He sits down in it! He
reposes in the immediate as if it were infinity — which it is. He has made
himself a part of the boundless by easing himself into just where it touches
him. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; mso-themecolor: text1;"><i>I like the duck. He doesn't know much, but he's got
religion.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">*<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Tirtha</i> is a
Sanskrit word which means “crossing over place” and is said to have a
particular potency or magic because it is an opening to another dimension.
Hospitals, airports and graveyards are all examples of “tirthas”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-33498194982887235422019-02-26T04:23:00.004-08:002019-02-28T11:43:59.051-08:00Forms and Flows of Love - Dunked in Devotion Yesterday we went into Old Delhi with our driver Mr. Singh, a handsome, elegantly dressed Indian man who drives Uber in a beat up economy car through the heavily polluted streets of Delhi. Like almost everyone else here, he works so hard! All day, every day he is out trolling for fares. Most days he drives for 12 to 15 hours a day. I asked him if he liked driving Uber and he was happily matter-of-fact in his answer. "Some days are good and some customers are good. Others not so much".<br />
On his dash board is a small picture of Hanuman who is his patron saint (his <i>Ishta Devata</i>). Like other Hindus, he believes that God is One but has many forms and faces. Hanuman is one of those forms or faces of God. Hanuman is a kind of super-hero who is able to leap great distances and fly across difficulties due to his great love of God. Most Hindus say that Hanuman and Jesus are the same....2 avatars but the same.<br />
Each morning Mr. Singh spends 2 hours, starting at 5 am, doing a simple devotional puja to Hanuman followed by pranayama (breath-work), Yoga, prayer and meditation. He says this keeps him happy and healthy and grateful for his life. If you have driven in the traffic in India you know that it is really something - a super hero kind of thing - to drive 12 to 15 hours a day and still be happy, healthy and feel grateful for your life.<br />
Getting to know him and hear about his devotional practices a little, as we navigated the insane streets of Delhi, dovetailed with my contemplation about Puja and other externalized rituals of devotion and worship.<br />
There are "forms" or formal practices of devotion such as Pujas and church services. And probably everybody knows how you can do these just "going through the motions". Yoga Asana, for example, is a form or ritual, and it can be practiced as just a good workout or it can be a form of devotion. It just depends on the attitude or focus I bring to it.<br />
But even when I go through the motions of the "forms" of practice like puja and yoga asana, the form itself can - and often does - open a flow of happiness or devotion. Not all the time. But much of the time. If I only waited for myself to "feel" like practicing the forms (puja, asana, meditation, etc.) I wouldn't practice much.<br />
My root teacher, Lee Lozowick, said if you only do one practice, do Puja. I did not understand that teaching for a long time. But being in India, last time and this time, as well as remembering back to the innocence and sweetness of my childhood experiences of ritualized devotion, I have grown to love my practices of bowing to and expressing gratitude to the Sacred. Lee's teaching that if you are only doing one practice make it the practice of Puja, has turned out to be quite expansive since I now see that so much of what I love to do in terms of practice really can be a form of Puja. Simple things like lighting a candle and incense, placing a flower, moving through the beautiful forms and flow of yoga asana. Once my heart and mind open to the understanding of puja, I can see that so much of my day can be an offering.<br />
I am inspired by the transmission of devotion I've received by being here in India.....things like hearing about Mr. Singh's early morning practices of devotion, seeing endless simple shrines on the roadsides and even at the roots of trees, watching the women wash the sidewalk at the entrance to their homes each morning and then make a rice powder <i>yantra</i> (sacred design) to welcome the Sacred into their home and their day.<br />
I am being dunked in devotion. India transmits it to me in a way that I can predict with my logical, rational mind. It’s more like I learn it – or remember it – in my flesh and bones, in my cells. And I am so grateful.<br />
OK....Got to go. Thanks for reading.<br />
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Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-69911862373440157482019-02-24T06:05:00.000-08:002019-02-28T11:08:54.320-08:00Honoring All Forms and Vehicles of the Divine<div style="font-family: ".sf ui text"; font-size: 17px; line-height: normal;">
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">India is an over-the-top, out-of-the-closet country of God lovers. At home, in my experience, it is predominantly not cool to be overly religious or overly devotional. But here? There's no apology or buffering. At home, when I am teaching, I might say something like "Open to grace" or "Open to something greater than yourself". I don't use the word "God" so much in order to honor everybody's different beliefs and to avoid activating what I humorously refer to as people's PTRSD (post traumatic religious stress disorder). So many people have had a bad time growing up in coercive fundamental religious sects and in my classes I like to respect diversity and make my classes welcoming to everybody including agnostics. I imagine I will continue in this way - in order to practice welcoming and hospitality - but I wonder if something is lost, by being so careful to not offend. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Here, there is no sense of overt devotion being offensive. Our driver, on the first day we met him (not after several a days when he was sure we would not be offended) told us he had prayed to God for good weather and good conditions. "OF COURSE! Why not?!" he said ..."Of course! Without God NOTHING works". Can you imagine an Uber driver telling your that when he picks you up?</span><br />
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">A prevalent aspect of this widespread devotion is the practice of Puja, a devotional worship to one or more deities, or to host and honor a guest, or to spiritually celebrate an event. It might honor or celebrate the presence of special guest(s), or their memories after they die. The word puja means reverence, honor, homage, adoration, and worship and includes the loving offering of light, flowers, and water or food to the divine. For the worshiper, the divine is visible in the image, and the image sees the worshiper. The interaction between human and deity, between human and divine is called </span><span style="font-family: ".sfuitext-bolditalic"; font-size: 17.00pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">darshan</span><span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicARAoBDLpRxqWbj5LW-8cNEMSFd1CnZGXY2sTn5Byqt9ZWDzsFVQgc7RqL__LzT_qLQ322gyqMgNeINGJyt1wfbJETFmmCZjevLgQE40jRdiGSxKxecGXyGZi8D76f0ZMB3yul8GaqdPQ/s1600/puja3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicARAoBDLpRxqWbj5LW-8cNEMSFd1CnZGXY2sTn5Byqt9ZWDzsFVQgc7RqL__LzT_qLQ322gyqMgNeINGJyt1wfbJETFmmCZjevLgQE40jRdiGSxKxecGXyGZi8D76f0ZMB3yul8GaqdPQ/s320/puja3.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I grew up in a very devotional Roman Catholic family and my wonderful dad was particularly devotional. We definitely practiced or observed a form of puja in the ritual of the mass (what sometimes I refer to as the "bells and the smells"; the bread and the wine; etc.) And there were always many images at church and at home, of the sacred. We had a kind of darshan practice involving images of Jesus, Mary, and innumerable saints). So India is a kind of devotional homecoming feeling to me. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFc434uLZmGMq1S_jUGLnm0VkOEfg5TXkNQvXO91wHsia0haNpnMeOdTo2yPSISWYhMa-oZfauqfvAKfk2gAiNx7MFkzfiKxHBTIyQ5fYbwBXXkePNg3ntOtN88ajEguiDHGxJkmMrwu7h/s1600/puja1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFc434uLZmGMq1S_jUGLnm0VkOEfg5TXkNQvXO91wHsia0haNpnMeOdTo2yPSISWYhMa-oZfauqfvAKfk2gAiNx7MFkzfiKxHBTIyQ5fYbwBXXkePNg3ntOtN88ajEguiDHGxJkmMrwu7h/s320/puja1.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Puja rituals are done on a variety of occasions and may include daily puja done in the home, to occasional temple ceremonies and annual festivals. Puja is not mandatory. In some temples pujas may be performed daily at various times of the day; in other temples pujas are occasional. And many people, from rickshaw drivers to Ashram residents, have emphasized to us that the main temple is one's heart where God dwells in us and as us. And that the most important puja is one that is done inwardly, a darshan of the heart.</span></div>
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Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-81466212704496133282019-02-21T07:09:00.002-08:002019-02-28T11:07:20.693-08:00Traffic like a River<div style="font-family: ".sf ui text"; font-size: 17px; line-height: normal;">
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">The best image I can come up with is to compare it to the flow of a river. As with a river, there are no stop signs or traffic lights. Seriously! I'm not making this up. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">This river of traffic, unlike a river of water, flows both ways at the same time. Within its currents are everything from goats, dogs and cows to walkers, bicycles, motorcycles and rickshaws to cars, huge trucks and the occasional gigantic tour bus. In addition, along the riverbank-sides of the road are vendors and their stalls, beggars and frequently a large congregation of people playing music and dancing to celebrate things like weddings and funerals and I don't know what else. There are also a multitude of small temples and shrines. In the US we have a Starbucks every block and here they have a temple or a shrine every block....tells you a lot about who is worshiping what. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Add to the above the fact that almost all the roads are the size of one lane of our roads. Really.....I am not making this up.....the 2 way flow of the river of traffic happens inside the width of one lane of our roads....and sometimes a smaller width than that. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"> I have been mostly walking. It feels a bit like a dance of sorts. I have to keep moving and be fluid in my movement (not staccato, rigid or linear) so I can weave right or left at a moment's notice, to flow past a cow, rickshaw or motorcycle and thereby keep moving with the current. To stop and stand still is dangerous. To get into a linear state of mind or movement is dangerous. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">It's kind of mind-boggling when my western mind stops to consider it. I can't believe it all works and that everybody, more or less, makes it home alive. </span></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzfC2eV283r9OHt5aA6mhlfHhnfHcYL02WE7lQO-HdDna3AdHNIb-6Opd1SU9rx4A4u_1aQPEAW_8GvAFCWqQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Getting into the flow and out of it, when I'm walking, is like getting into and out of a game of double jump-rope. Sorry if you never played that game as a child. Wish I had a visual image or a mini-video to show you. To get into a game of jump rope or the flow of traffic in India, you have to stand and wait and stay open and receptive and ready and then Go! Jump in.....and keep moving. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">We've also been in cars, on the road, with a hired driver (not driving ourselves, thank God) when we need to go longer distances to temples etc. It's similar to what I described in walking, the fluidity and contingency. You really don't ever just drive in your own lane. For example, sometimes a car will squeeze between two trucks if there's room. And often the car will be driving on the opposite side from where it is supposed to be if that is the best way to keep the current of traffic moving. I really think traffic lights an stop signs would be disastrous. There are too many different kinds of moving objects moving at too many different speeds (as I mentioned above: goats, dogs, monkeys, cows, walkers, bicycles, motorcycles, rickshaws, cars, trucks and tour buses). Drivers rely heavily on horns to let other drivers know they're there. In fact, most of the big trucks have a sign on the back saying "horn please" because they don't have functional rear-view mirrors. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">If I was at home and somehow found myself in this kind of traffic, whether walking or driving, I would be terrified. But here I am quite relaxed. And amazed. For some reason, here in India, where there is so much devotion, it's easier for me to let myself be part of, and carried along by, the flow and know that it's all in Gods hands.</span></div>
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Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-85418324365319096732019-02-20T17:31:00.000-08:002019-02-28T11:06:21.831-08:00The Chittorgargh War Fort and the Princess Mirabai<div style="line-height: normal;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuCM0hat-unjp0zs9DD2l2X27Y7R14CHg-kI7oV37Tp5Eue_gSPb-wcrySEx0saFgZH6uuxjtf2uE_5GckNlKtCilfYO1H_e1JGFT4plCX4AIAepM1cXLmTxVxcvpEGHlb5hLRoJQToaij/s1600/Fort2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; color: #454545; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuCM0hat-unjp0zs9DD2l2X27Y7R14CHg-kI7oV37Tp5Eue_gSPb-wcrySEx0saFgZH6uuxjtf2uE_5GckNlKtCilfYO1H_e1JGFT4plCX4AIAepM1cXLmTxVxcvpEGHlb5hLRoJQToaij/s320/Fort2.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Yesterday we visited the Chittorgarh Fort complex, a massive 700 acres of fort and 2 main temples. The fort was active in the 1200's and forward to the 1500's or so. It went back and forth - conquered and conquered again - mainly an ongoing, never-ending war between the Hindus and the Muslims. I was reminded of a sobering passage by Wendell Berry - reflecting on the horrors of WW II. He wrote that war is all one war. It's always and ever only been one ongoing war with different players and through different epochs. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"> Being at the Chittor fort was especially sobering to me because of parts of its history. Every time the "one side" -the Muslims - conquered the fort, Hindu women (more than 10,000 each time) who lived inside the fort would commit mass self-immolation (called Jauhar). You can see the large pit (ghat) into which they threw themselves rather than be taken captive.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Inside the fort complex is a Kali temple which was an appropriate segue for me to visit after wandering around the fort and contemplating its bloody history.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">But the highlight for me was the Mirabai Temple.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Mirabai was a 16th century Indian princess known for her songs of devotion to Krishna and for forsaking traditional women's roles to devote her life to Krishna-worship. She lived from about 1498 to about 1545. Her name has also been translated as Mira Bai, Meerabai, Meera Bai, Meera, or Mīrābāī, and she is sometimes given the honorific of Mirabai Devi.<br />
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Her mother died when she was 4. At age 13 Mirabai was married to a Ranjputi prince who died a few years later. Her family was shocked that she did not commit </span><span style="font-family: ".sfuitext-italic"; font-size: 17pt; font-style: italic;">sati</span><span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">, burning herself alive on her husband's funeral pyre, as was considered proper for a Rajputi princess. Then they were further shocked when she refused to remain secluded as a widow. Instead of following these traditional norms she took up enthusiastic worship of Krishna as part of the Bhakti movement. She ignored gender, class, caste and religious boundaries, and spent time caring for the poor.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">All of this horrified her in-laws. The legends tell of multiple attempts on her life by Mirabai's late husband's family. In all of these attempts, she miraculously survived: a poisonous snake, a poisoned drink, and drowning. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioleYD1spABNeyGpdTNHvsHZrTpQKsUvXRxe5_56hpPoV5PorWAt8kq1DD-i6R_vyEVANckhL5Jo5sFwjdOujNuaFRBYJd464a9fm5f5KkRbPS_s3x2LA6yI9DaRmpyQsVqMZ_dspxcmWE/s1600/Kali+Temple.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioleYD1spABNeyGpdTNHvsHZrTpQKsUvXRxe5_56hpPoV5PorWAt8kq1DD-i6R_vyEVANckhL5Jo5sFwjdOujNuaFRBYJd464a9fm5f5KkRbPS_s3x2LA6yI9DaRmpyQsVqMZ_dspxcmWE/s320/Kali+Temple.jpg" width="240" /></span></a><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Mirabai's willingness to sacrifice family respect and traditional gender, family, and caste restrictions, and to devote herself completely and enthusiastically to Krishna, made her an important role model and saint in the Bhakti movement that stressed ecstatic devotion and rejected traditional divisions based on sex, class, caste, and creed.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Here are a few of her Quotes but if you are intrigued, google her amazing ecstatic devotional poetry. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"><i>“I came for the sake of love-devotion; seeing the world, I wept.”</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"><i>“The Great Dancer is my husband, rain washes off all the other colors.” </i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"><i>"I have felt the swaying of the elephant's shoulders; / and now you want me to climb / on a jackass? Try to be serious."</i></span></div>
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Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-29266358073723481982019-02-18T18:48:00.000-08:002019-02-28T11:04:12.156-08:00Lifestyle and living to the age of 105<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We are visiting several temples during our stay in Udaipur and we have a guide named Ajay who drives us there and also explains the sometimes mystifying protocol around temple visits. Things like covered shoulders; hair tied back if its long; who to give rupees to and who to not give rupees to; how to buy prasad (flower and fruit offerings) to offer at the various shrines; where you can take photos and where it is not allowed. In fact, at the Krishna temple we visited yesterday, we had to turn in our cell phones and our shoes outside of the temple gates. One always has to leave shoes outside temples but cell phones was a new thing. That was a little worrisome but all went well. Indians are becoming increasingly protective of their amazing heritage and don't like westerners coming and grabbing sacred artifacts whether physically or via images. One of our friends in Tiruvanamalai told us that the Indians can see right away, when a westerner arrives, whether they are attuned to the sacredness of a site or just there to greedily gobble impression food that they won't be able to understand or assimilate. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But wait! This post was supposed to be about lifestyle and long life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">OK....back on track.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Ajay's father died a year ago at the age of 105. I asked Ajay why he lived so long? Did he have any special health practices? Ajay assured me that he did not. And in fact he smoked and drank. But -said Ajay - he lived in a village where the air was clean and the food was free of pesticides, growth hormones, etc......basically organic fresh food. Also he had lots of community; he was not an isolated senior shut away in a ghetto for old people, aka "nursing home". And for sure he had a rich spiritual life and love for God.</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYMiEIoWUNzK55Mif_4x-IOQtHOrJY-x2bttmnFEh76K4lrC4AUE12rUBxxBh3ck8AsNfSPn-G6nqTVN8RoHquutL6jNPQJX7VqYVyABVX9guCeki95T8uJLy8W9HoueKCJ6KKk3-hWFwa/s1600/Musician.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYMiEIoWUNzK55Mif_4x-IOQtHOrJY-x2bttmnFEh76K4lrC4AUE12rUBxxBh3ck8AsNfSPn-G6nqTVN8RoHquutL6jNPQJX7VqYVyABVX9guCeki95T8uJLy8W9HoueKCJ6KKk3-hWFwa/s320/Musician.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">So! That was inspiring. I think I had better start smoking since I already have the great good fortune to live where the air is clean and I already have the privilege of eating clean organic food. There is definitely room in my life for more community. But I think that is true for pretty much everybody I know back home in the sense that we tend to live in nuclear pods, alone or with just one or a few others. It is just so different here.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I do feel heartache for the conditions in which people live here, in the cites, which is where the majority of the population lives. The air is TERRIBLE and the noise level is incredibly loud. I am doing fine because I am just visiting. But Ajay and his family do not get to return to clean air and fresh food.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">OK ....signing off for now......thanks for reading.</span>Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-49642583947698756712019-02-18T17:34:00.001-08:002019-02-28T11:02:38.226-08:00Rajasthani -OMG Beauty<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I am in the Rajasthan province, in the city of Udaipur, and all 5 of my senses are being swelled full to overflowing with beauty.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAqlvRCaeDsCtN5juBD9NEp5scSUsD94olXmS2ZB0aGXnfTFLX7Xa8z3wxVYBcjvNavCfNctZQbmd_ml7m-AsdvOamu9AkQF_jWT6FXuMq48ZwRDxnjp4dHXVnwBbwcBeVtcabNtPeYEfj/s1600/Karen+Three.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAqlvRCaeDsCtN5juBD9NEp5scSUsD94olXmS2ZB0aGXnfTFLX7Xa8z3wxVYBcjvNavCfNctZQbmd_ml7m-AsdvOamu9AkQF_jWT6FXuMq48ZwRDxnjp4dHXVnwBbwcBeVtcabNtPeYEfj/s320/Karen+Three.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Our friend, Narasimha, who helped us plan this trip, is an artist and a great lover of beauty. He emphasized that we <i>must must MUST</i> go to Rajasthani and see the beauty India. If you read the last few posts you read my reluctance to leave Treveni Ashram and Ananda ashram. There was beauty in those places - but it was mostly a kind inner beauty evoked through the rituals, practices and chanting.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvTo6sWV1A7PP7ohDyb3PecpNy0-R929lpO7m_smLEgqU6sMzhhCiQzFOljjf0b1uu8G7MD05Vdql-B_LXY_Du3DVRjF7LIKXYiOL1RHOMq4VbYlkzd27ZwlNNzDEGvClViuTXt2xIX3wI/s1600/Woman+Two.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvTo6sWV1A7PP7ohDyb3PecpNy0-R929lpO7m_smLEgqU6sMzhhCiQzFOljjf0b1uu8G7MD05Vdql-B_LXY_Du3DVRjF7LIKXYiOL1RHOMq4VbYlkzd27ZwlNNzDEGvClViuTXt2xIX3wI/s320/Woman+Two.jpg" width="240" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But beauty, as I perceive it through my five senses, was not the main attraction. For example, at Ananda Ashram we were in a small cement block room with bunks on which were plastic mattresses. We had to keep the room closed up so as to keep the mosquitoes out. And it was extremely hot and humid so walking into our gray cement block cell was like walking into a sauna. No complaints. I loved every minute that we spent at the ashram but did not exactly rush to spend more time in the cement sauna and would not call it a peak experience of great outer beauty :-). And while, if I had to choose, I would choose to cultivate and open the world of inner beauty, I am so grateful that I don't have to choose. Being here in Rajasthan reminds me that life is meant to be beautiful, meant to be enjoyed. It's all God after all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Here I am staying in a room with ornate wood carvings, a stained glass peacock design window, rich deep red curtains.....like that. And that is nothing compared to the world outside my room! I don't even know where to begin to try to describe the beauty here. The architecture is exquisite. The food makes me practically burst into tears of gratitude...so many complex spices make a fiesta in my mouth. The people are beautiful and dress in gorgeous colorful designs including mirrored fabrics (You know the kind? Mirrors are embroidered into the fabric).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Udaipur is a city known for his art and it's artists. And art is everywhere. Beauty.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">OK.... I know pictures are worth more words, even up to a thousand. More beauty pictures soon....thanks for reading.</span><br />
<br />Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-20372510631317003432019-02-16T06:59:00.001-08:002019-02-28T11:00:40.071-08:00Eyes<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">I am in Mangalore waiting for a flight
to Bengalaru. As in the rest of this trip, I have been noticing eye contact so
much, especially with women. Muslim women who meet my eyes from behind their
otherwise veiled face, Hindu women at the Ashram. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">This morning nearby is a Muslim woman
with her 3 young children and her husband. She is in a burka and I am curious.
I want to look at her but don’t because I feel shy and respectful. But she
catches my eye and her gaze is so open and gentle and truly friendly. And it is
easy for me to return that open hearted gaze to her. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">This is a frequent experience here -
when my eyes meet the eyes of another woman, it is usually not a conditioned
response but instead is often like a wide-open window between us. Oddly enough,
when my eyes meet other familiar looking westerners, the window is not always
as open. It’s more of a conditioned response sort of look; the gaze is veiled,
even though the lips may be smiling. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">And that “veiled window” is often the
case at home, even with people I know well. With strangers it might be partly
due to “the senior discount”, especially of older women in my culture (whereas
here older women are generally held in respect. In fact, older women are called
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Mataji</i>- a term of respect which means
Mother). But at home, my eyes are veiled too - as if to protect myself from
someone’s / anyone’s gaze that might see me as if through a dark lens or see me
as a ridiculous old woman. Or because I am seeing them through a lens darkly. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">I get off the plane in Bengaluru and in
the airport, I see on the TV monitors that there has been a massacre of 40
people in Pulwama. I feel my heart contract and the veils go down over my eyes.
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">I would like to make a more disciplined practice
of keeping my eyes - and my heart - open and unveiled whether or not the other
person’s window is open and regardless of outside circumstances. Or because it
is even more important when outside circumstances are heart breaking.<o:p></o:p>
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<br />Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-86818606191938486532019-02-14T22:00:00.001-08:002019-02-28T10:55:30.210-08:00Ananda Ashram<div style="font-family: ".sf ui text"; font-size: 17px; line-height: normal;">
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<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I am at Anada Ashram which is in the Kerala region in southern India on the west coast. Getting here was an l-o-n-g adventure. We spent 6 hours in a car that we' d hired, on typical crazy roads and then caught an overnight train to kahnangod where this Ashram is located. So we arrived quite hot and tired but immediately felt the sweetness of this place. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">It was founded by Papa Ramdas. He was born in 1884 and had a typical youth, went to school, got married, had 2 children. But he was also feeling an intense longing towards God and when he was 28 he took a vow of renunciation and left on a pilgrimage to temples and sacred sites and began years of intense practices including chanting and meditation and prayer. Part of taking the vow of renunciation in India is that the renunciation is legally dead to his old life. There's no turning back. He leaves everything behind and takes a new name. His new name was Ramdas. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">(I know. When I hear these stories I think, "Hey! What about his wife and kids?" But in this culture, when one has an intense longing towards God such as he had, there's a culturally acceptable and legal way to answer that call. Of course, I don't know how his wife and kids felt about it. The gender equity concept is not exactly thriving here.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">In fact it is pretty disturbing. But that's another blog post. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Being here, immersed in the gentle holiness of this place and hearing his basic teachings (more on that in a moment), I am glad he followed his call.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Ramdas wandered as an itenerate monk for a time and at the end of this part of his life he set up an ashram. This ashram :-). Around this time, </span><span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">a young widow named Krishnabai who was in a severely difficult time of her life since her husbands death, met Ramdas and became his devotee. Later she became his teaching partner and became known as the "Mother" of the ashram. Ramdas was the Papa. (He is affectionately referred to as Papa Ramdas). He made Krishnabai his successor. She is honored as an avatar of the Divine Mother.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">So! That's were I am.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">But what do we DO here? </span></div>
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<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Chanting is the main practice here: chanting the name of God. The teaching from Papa Ramdas is that chanting the name of God, ANY name that you love including names from Christianity, Islam, etc. is a sure way to connect you more closely to God. And it wil also quiet your mind and allow you to move inward into states of prayer and meditation. There is chanting from early to late and the name they chant is "Shri Ram", a name of God which means "the Shining One, or the Radiant One". </span></div>
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<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Another strong teaching here is that everything is God and that therefore there is nothing wrong with the world because it is all God, as it is. Everything and everyone. There only tends to be something wrong with our view of things. (A good reason to turn off the news, I'd say! )</span></div>
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<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Another strong teaching from Papa Ramdas - the third pillar besides chanting and meditation /prayer - is service. It goes like this: once you accept that everything and all beings are God, you do everything in your life as service to God. Even in the way I type on this computer I am encouraged to be grateful to it as a form of God. And that attitude of devotion and service to all things and beings extends to everything and every activity, from cleaning a toilet to dealing with annoying people, including myself. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">There are very simple Indian meals 3 times a day. And a talk at 3:30 each day. You can participate in chanting practice as much or as little as you want. Nothing is mandatory. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">That's it for now....gotta go chant! </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Next stop Rajasthan. I'll type in from there. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Thanks for reading!</span></div>
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Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5987922844338553917.post-40984139842798083092019-02-12T05:42:00.001-08:002019-02-28T10:49:19.244-08:00Tanjor / Tanjavore -At the "Ideal Riverview Resort" <div style="line-height: normal;">
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">On
Monday we drove for 4 hours to Tanjore and checked in at the Ideal River View
Resort. It is also named Ideal Beach Resort. FYI: Don’t be jealous; there is no
beach. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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I was trying to draw no conclusions and suspend judgements but basically, I
hated it immediately. The whole place is made to look deluxe as if to welcome
the maharaja or British royalty. But just below the surface everything is very
India (which I love; I'm just not crazy about the faux deluxe memsahib
vibe). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Here is an example of the effort to paste together western ideas of deluxe with
the Indian culture: there's an electric kettle in our room. This morning,
trying to plug it in we realized that the plug was behind a massive piece of
furniture and that this cheap kettle had been permanently locked into place and
could not be moved to a better outlet. This means that when it burns out (which
won't be long) they will have to saw through some wood that is part of the
massive piece of furniture, to free the cord to remove the kettle. Or just let
it sit there broken, which is most likely what will happen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anyway, back to my complaining, I just was not happy about leaving
Tiruvanamalai and the ashram and coming to an enclave for westerners. On top of
that, all 3 of us were hot, tired and cranky. Everything got better. Read
on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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On the evening of our arrival we went into town to a massive Siva temple
(Brideswara). It was just a normal Monday night and yet hundreds and hundreds
of people were thronging the temple to pray, celebrate, get blessings and hang
out. Amazing! As we made our way through the huge temple complex, we received blessings
from 3 brahmin priests, who blessed us with "God's love and long
life". These priests bless and do rituals all day long for thousands
of people a day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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It's hard to describe my experience inside of these ancient sacred spaces but I
will try. In this Shiva temple I felt as if the heat was turned up, like I was
being challenged to clean up my act so to speak, turn up my discipline in terms
of practice, stand steadier in the fire of difficult situations without losing
kindness, generosity and compassion. This fiery feeling state was specific to
the Shiva temple; distinct from the feeling states I've experienced in other
temples dedicated to other deities. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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I was grateful to come back to the Ideal Riverview Beach-free Resort. It was a good
respite, a place to digest and assimilate the intensity of the temple visit.
And I was also finally able to SEE and be grateful for the beauty. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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The next morning, we went to the Ganesh temple (Swetha Vinayagar Temple). What
a different Temple (of course). Ganesh is a playfully happy blessing force. As
soon as we entered the temple, a family took us under their wing, taught us a
Ganesh Yoga-like movement sequence to do to honor Ganesh and keep us happy and
avoid having a huge belly (which by the way, Ganesh does have because he loves
sweets). The women wanted to know our dietary habits that keep us from having a
belly. All this talk about belly! It made me laugh. The whole temple visit was
full of so much friendliness and happy delight. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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We are leaving in the morning for Ananda ashram. It will be a 6 hour drive to a
train station and then an overnight train to Kahnangod. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Yay India! Thanks for reading.</span><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji",sans-serif; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji";"> 💕</span><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Karen Sprute Francovichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12440609567887249834noreply@blogger.com1