No resolutions this year - but an allowing. Life will happen, there will be participation. Approach it all from joyful awareness. When there is forgetting - smile, and start again. So there it is for me. Happy New Year my friends! Peace and Love, Eric

Pancake Photos

Pancake Photos: 

several years ago, and for reasons I no longer remember but probably only on a whim and to make my friends smile - I posted a photo of my Sunday brunch pancakes on social media. And then continued to do so for several years. There was no reason or significance to this other than the smiles and jokes that followed. My pancake photos became a way of saying hi to my friends, saluting my own particular weirdness, and something more as well...

it signified my connection to the world.

only I didn't know this at the time. 

Sunday brunch and the occasional diner at our favorite vegan restaurant became a tradition for my wife, and then ex-wife, and I. It was a thread through our relationship, binding, keeping us connected in a meaningful way. We could put almost anything aside and spend that time together, a soul match of company and food, we were friends with the staff and always felt welcomed. 

a loving atmosphere all around.

my pancake photos, for me, became a symbol of all that was right in my small section of the world. This all ended with the pandemic shutdown, life shifted suddenly for all of us, connections fractured, and I retreated to care for my ailing father. I'm happy to say that the thread remained between my ex-wife and I, in fact bound us tighter in many important ways. But it's taken me some time to recover from a series of loss over these past years, or maybe more that it was a reluctance to emerge back into a world that still felt in need of a true and deep healing. 

so I've been in retread for some time now.

quietly so, 

meditating, yoga, writing, and predawn walks immersed in nature.

healing. 

recent events in my ex-wife's life brought cause for celebration, and the thread of our connection brought us once more to brunch at our favorite vegan restaurant. We're almost at a new year now, and tentatively, I'm ready to face the world once more, maybe not fully emerging from my self-imposed retreat, but just enough to make some new connections and expand my own little world again. 

yesterday, a new pancake photo was posted. 

it's a start. 

just a small re-connection. . 

~

Peace, Eric 

 

Towards Steadiness and Ease

Towards steadiness and ease: 

it's my yoga now, shared with Patanjali, unwavering in its commitment towards steadiness and ease. I'm less interested in the complexity of a pose, nor do I find that I need to hold them for a greater length of time. There's no goal to my practice other than the practice itself, asanas for the sake of finding comfort in my body, and all effort concentrated towards an eventual surrender to the pose. 

sthira sukham.

that I'm moving towards steadiness and ease.

truly so. 

Patanjali says very little about asanas, the third limb of yoga. Of the 196 in total only three actually mentions them and not in any great detail at all. The asanas weren't emphasized, but how we should approach them certainly was - that we should commit ourselves to steadiness and ease, a balance between the two, our minds relaxed and bodies poised on the edge of comfort and effort. I have finally come to a point of understanding this, how the asanas themselves are a meditation on this balance, each selected posture calling for both a mindful effort as well as my surrender. 

it's my yoga now, finally, no longer involved with ego and a drive to perfect each pose. In this sense I've already surrendered, even before a single asana is selected I have let go of any need to stress my body further than is needed. My only goal is to reach that edge of poise and surrender, not quickly, but only as it arrives to me as move through every pose. 

I'm no longer in a hurry. 

there's no urgency here. 

only sthira sukham.

moving towards a sense of steadiness and ease. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Even When We Know

Even when we know: 

even when we know that they exist we remain helpless in their grip, samskaras, mental patterns of endless draw and repetition that play throughout our mind. These are our default mode of behavior, mental impressions that are often so subtle that we fail to realize the power that they hold. They are not inherently good or bad, but simply patterns of our thoughts and reactions grooved into mind over a lifetime, maybe longer, and they become the means of our expression - automatic, with no thought given as to how we navigate our lives. 

our samskaras negate freewill.

even when we know that they exist. 

yet that's also the first step in breaking their absolute hold, being aware, and discovering that there is a choice here after all. But what it takes is an intention, after first becoming aware there must be a strong desire to break free from our habitual behaviors. The first step, most important of all, is to be aware, just seeing that we are not at fault here, we're prisoners of our very own minds. With awareness comes change, sometimes completely on its own, more often with no small degree of practice. Meditation, breathwork, cultivating steadiness through the asanas of yoga - these are our tools for freedom. 

what happens is that we begin to notice, catching that first subtle pull of our reactions and not immediately being drawn into our usual patterns. We might not even notice this at first, people remark that we've changed, grown more peaceful through our practice. But the truth is that we've created new and more creative patterns for our expression, our minds opting for an easy course of action. We're more relaxed now, and even when we're drawn in to old familiar patterns we'e able to soon recognize samskaras at work, quickly changing the energy of the situation. 

that's the peace found through awareness.

it's our smile of recognition. 

patterns are just patterns. 

they're not who we are. 

and now we know. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Inconspicuous

Inconspicuous: 

it's been a rather inconspicuous pose for me throughout the years, regulated as a warm-up before the more dramatic appearing yoga postures were displayed. Yet Pavanamuktasana, wind-relieving pose, has gain some prominence in my practice, being vital in relief of back pain and tension. What I've noticed is how often I've passed through so many asanas with so little attention, dismissing them for their very simplicity that actually makes them so effective. Recent back pain has given me cause to reset my practice, pay mindful attention to these seemingly lesser poses. 

and what I've discovered is...

there are no inconspicuous postures, 

only my lack of appreciation for what they offer. 

my reset has brought joy into my practice for these once overlooked asanas, they're no longer simply moved through to reach something of more importance. I've brought my focus to what I'm able to do now without the sharp and lasting pain of over extending myself, sinking into these once inconspicuous poses with deep appreciation. There's a vitality here that was never noticed before, that in my play of favorite postures I missed the energy that's offered in every pose, not one being less vital than any other. They're all of equal importance if mindfully approached. 

I somehow missed that through the years. 

but it's a lesson learned now.

a gift from being injured. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Realignment

Realignment: 

forgiveness is really just a return to the present moment, making it continuously so, a realignment of our thoughts to what's happening now and not focused on a past transgression. Reality itself holds no opinion on such matters, everything is instantly forgiven and life moves on. Ourselves included. But we are gifted with thought and imagination, an ability to roam our past events and feel the effects again right now, casting ourselves even further in the future to imagine how our lives might be.

forgiveness is difficult with our thoughts traveling to and fro. 

yogic psychology gives reason for this suffering, that we are burdened with the mental patterns of attraction and aversions, bound to our opinions as an ego, and ignorant of being caught within the fluctuation of the mind. We don't realize how we're drawn within this web of sorrow and even of we did we would find ourselves helpless in its grip of motion. 

our escape is forgiveness. 

a realignment. 

simply being aware that this is so.  

yoga is an easy path, we're not asked to make drastic changes, nor give effort to escape our suffering. We just practice, continuously giving our attention to the present moment by breath and posture, realigning ourselves once more with silence, and finding that forgiveness happens completely on its own. That's our awakening, not practicing to achieve anything, we're not seeking to forgive nor to escape our sorrows - but only to realign ourselves to the present moment. 

everything instantly forgiven...

and life moves on. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Almost Immediately

Almost immediately: 

I love that my day starts with yoga, my eyes first opening to a prayer of gratitude and then I am almost immediately sitting in Sukhasana, easy pose, a cross-legged posture for my morning meditation. This is a beautiful asana for me, I'm able to ease into and sit comfortably for some time, spine straight, and right away my begins with yoga, more than a practice -

it's a display of all I love.

almost immediately upon my waking. 

Sukhasana is a pose I look forward to, eager for it's lengthening of my spine, hips opening and the nights sleep being stretched from my body as my mind settles to the vibration of mantra. This is how I start my day, without fail, and if nothing else occurred for its duration I would remain gripped in joy and gratitude that I was able to fold my legs and stretch my back upwards, firmly connected to earth and air. 

almost immediately...

Sukhasana reminds me of this connection. 

it's also a valuable asana, with many benefits from its simplicity. The mind becomes concentrated from its hold, digestion improves, posture lengthens, and ankles and knees gain greater mobility. Even as I work through pain from a back injury I find relief with this pose. Energetically it's a position for deep observation, almost immediately I settle into listening to my body, relaxing, my thoughts continuing their flow without my direct participation. 

Sukhasana opens me as witness to it all. 

a beautiful way to begin my day. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas: 

Merry Christmas, from a non-Christian to all my Christian friends, to people of all faith actually, and atheist and other non-believers as well. It's a holiday for everyone. Or we can make it so. December 25th is the celebration of the birth of Jesus, there is some historical debate on the actual date, but it doesn't really matter, this seems to be a holy time of year, auspicious for many traditions dating back through time, most importantly for me being the winter solstice and soon after the arrival of a greater length of light to fill my days. 

it's no coincidence that Jesus might share this birth date with many other gods, with Dionysus deity of wine and fertile earth, a vegetal god invoking ecstatic dance in worship to our own divine nature. I love celebrating the most earth-based gods, wild and wholly in their ways. This is why I believe Christmas is such a wonderful holiday, signifying that Christ was born in a manger, animals nearby, a wilderness of land stretching in all directions, an auspicious birth in humble surroundings. 

Jesus is of the land. 

earth based.

divine by his very nature. 

when I wish Merry Christmas to another it's with this light in mind, that there is a true divinity within each of us ready to be born, a returning to our earth-self, being both humble and holy at once. The word Christ is a title, a bestowing, and it's ours to earn, or more truly, being ours to recognize within ourselves. There is a consciousness born this day, light filled, earth-based, a vegetal god that returns us to our truest nature, calling only for the worship of our deepest, most holiest self. 

with this Christ born...

it's indeed a Merry Christmas.

and may peace of earth soon follow. 

~

Love, Eric 

An Old Injury

An old injury: 

recently an old injury has flared up, worse than it's been in years, and for the first time ever I am faced with the prospect that this is something I may not be able to fix on my own, that it's beyond the powers of my yoga practice and that I might need an extended layoff from the things I love. In the past I have been able to work around injuries, always able to find something that continues my fitness passion and allows healing to take place as well. I'm wondering if those days are over, that I'm at a certain age now where the pain of working around anything is no longer an option, or even worth the effort. 

an old injury, revisited, 

has given much I need to consider.

over the last several days my yoga has turned to an ever gentler side, abandoning any posture that aggravates my injury, not extending the hold for any length of time. I'm nursing myself through this, being kind to my body, or attempting to - as old habits of mind and body are so often slow to change. With even a little relief I have a tendency to charge in, grasp that thread of comfort and pull for all I'm worth. Which of course only leaves me feeling worse again, several steps removed from where I started. I see clearly that these are my Samskaras, mental imprints that have created a destructive pattern of behavior. My old injury, presently revisiting, has arrived through my own foolishness, and yet presents an opportunity to be wise, compassionate to my body, and erase those old patterns of behavior. 

or at least lessen the sway they hold over my body and mind. 

I'll still stay active, even gentler with my yoga, changing my approach to fitness in ways that promote healing over time, having less to prove to myself and others. This isn't a lesson I would have intentionally chosen, but it's the one I have right now. My response is kindness, healing myself through pain and the loss of some mobility for now. 

it's an opportunity to heal. 

more deeply than I have before. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Brahma Muhurta

Brahma Muhurta: 

it's considered God's hours, Brahma Muhurta, a most auspicious period for the performance of any holy deed. This is my time to meditate, a gentle routine of yoga displayed through sun salutation and just a few asanas to wake my body to the arrival of the morning light. Perhaps of highest importance, to my emotional benefit at least, this is when I receive my most inspired words, as if the soft whisper of the universe is heard clearest at this hour. 

and who's to say it isn't.

this is actually a fluid time, not set to a particular point, but ranging from an hour and 36 minutes before sunrise and lasting 48 minutes total - although I've heard different time frames, this one seems the most consistent. It's said  that this when prana, life force, is most powerful, we're able to channel it for our creative and physical needs. I actually wake earlier than this, as if preparing for these hours readying my mind, body and spirit to receive the divine whispers of the morning. 

when Brahma Muhurta arrives...

I am ready to receive. 

lately, this has been my request for healing, using the motion of yoga, writing, and walking as a prayer, spending the most auspicious point of time in communion with nature. What I'm learning to do is to listen, not to any particular thing, but to every soft stir of wind and creak of branches, hearing the prowl or scammer of animals in the edge of brush, and mostly....

listening to silence. 

being the purest expression of these holy hours. 

and that seems to be the answer to my every deepest prayer. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Unseen Things

Unseen things: 

it won't be noticeable, not for many days to come, but I know the solstice has passed and that everyday has just a bit more sunlight than the day before. Sometimes it's enough to have faith in unseen things, knowing that change is occurring even as it's yet to meet the eyes. Of course this is a faith born of experience, that I've witness this effect for decades now and know it never fails to happen. That's the role of science as well as personal observation, noting the worlds phenomenons, exploring their every cause and effect, and then trusting in the inherent reliability of nature.  

and with this I have faith in unseen things.

even with cold and more dark filled days of winter just ahead.

light is still a growing presence. 

what I know for certain is that nature brings change, that life is fluid and ever changing in the experiences it offers. That's my personal observation. It's also science. The Buddha's statement that my suffering is caused by clinging to permanence within this flow bears witness as well. It's also a psychological principle of yoga, that the cause of all suffering is due to aversion to what's present, or attraction towards an always distance future that never seems to truly arrive in the way we deeply wish for. Yoga tells us that clinging to a sense of identity based on the belief that we are a permanent fixture to the world is another cause of suffering. With the belief in a lasting self we fear the inevitable role of death. 

our faith is built on illusions. 

even as we observe the fluidity of life. 

the last cause of suffering, according to the yogic seers, is advidya, our ignorance of that's mentioned above, that we're unable or unwilling to see that we bring suffering upon ourselves. Both Buddha and the ancient yogi's urge us to wake from this illusion, to see the world in its constant flow, refusing to cling to shadows any longer. 

we're asked to build our faith upon the light. 

even as it appears to be darkest. 

it's not faith in illusions. 

but in the unseen things occurring right now.

and always have been. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Cause to Celebrate

Cause to celebrate: 

from here, this measured point of darkness, I will begin to note the growing length of light, and how my morning walks will again soon hold a sunrise at their end. Today is solstice, the least amount of sunlight of any day throughout the year, yet it's marked as an occasion of faith, a celebration of what's returning in small amounts, barely noticed for still sometime to come. 

but it is certainly my cause to celebrate. 

I love the solstice as it's a promise that's always fulfilled, there will be a slim measure of light added to each day until eventually summer peaks in a full celebration of brilliance and then once more the entire cycle begins again. My body is connected to this ebb and flow of light, to the seasons, being part of the earth itself and able to detect their shifting moods. It's a primordial response, deeply positioned as an ancestral pull towards retreating within the dark cover of winter, and then emerging as the days grow longer in warmth and light. 

solstice reminds me that my every retreat is temporary. 

that I will always emerge and find the light.

it's a beautiful cause to celebrate.

~

Peace, Eric 

Arrogance

Arrogance: 

for the first time ever I am dealing with chronic pain over an extended period, months now of a lower back issue that goes beyond the ache of overdoing something. This most likely stems from an injury occurring long ago, 30 plus years now, and never properly treated, the arrogance of youth allowing me to continue onward though even more damage through the years. I'm not smart, but I'm consistent. Generally I have been able to treat my back with gentle yoga, mobility, and in a day, two at most, it's always been better and ready for whatever workouts I wish to do. Yet it's been months now without let up, and the culprit this time is the very thing I've always sought to heal me. 

yoga. 

of course yoga's not to blame, it was the arrogance of middle age that caused me push past the edge of discomfort into pain. I took my practice to the extreme, no longer so gentle, focusing on duration of postures over comfort, pursuing the most difficult poses for the promises they might unlock if I only endure a little longer. It was foolish - as I am often. Even after all these years. 

but it's yoga that's healing me now too. 

my practice has been rearranged, seeking the gentle healing of its promise and no longer pushing to that edge of pain. The arrogance of my mind has been replaced with the wisdom of my body, an intuitive voice within each cell that urges me to be kind, easing into poses that best suit its healing process. I'm learning to listen, finally, and this allows me to explore asanas that offer deep insights in their hold. One of which right now is Malasana, Garland post, or sometimes called the yoga squat. This is a pose that I sink into, settling down to a full squat position, spine extended, hands in prayer position and pressed against my heart as the elbows push the hips apart. 

it's a beautiful pose.

gentle.

slowly relieving months of pain. 

more so, Malasana returns me to earth, grounding, a focus on the root chakra and the benefits of this connection. In my return to basics, laying my arrogance aside, I find pleasure in the feel of asanas that call for the simplicity of  being still, settling in to the energetic joy of this root expression. The main lesson for me is that healing isn't necessarily a pursuit, it's a momentary process extended overtime, small things that allow the wisdom of my body to be heard. 

certain asanas will call to me.

an intuitive, healing whisper/ 

and arrogance aside...

I've finally learned to listen. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Jesus Always Turned to Nature

Jesus always turned to nature: 

Jesus always turned to nature, parables that offered keen insight into out own hearts and minds were so often based upon the natural world, and for his own solace he would retreat to the surrounding wilderness to find peace. He was a man intimate with the land and its creatures, basing many of his sermons on plants and birds, instructing us on how to live as if we truly belonged to the nature. 

and of course we do. 

by almost every account the spiritual leaders and prophets we adore were products of the land, feeling kinship with earth and animals. They would head to the wilderness to cleanse their minds and return with hearts steeped in love. I am often struck how clear this is in Christian teachings, most especially with Saint Francis of Assisi and his deep love for animals, portraying Jesus in the first Christmas crib sleeping peacefully in the manager amidst his animal friends. 

originally, and for much time after...

Christianity wasn't removed from the land. 

until it was.

it should be remember that Jesus's ministry was held outdoors, a cathedral of clouds and wind, bird songs in choir, trees and flowers in adornment. Our first church. That's the church we must return to, living the parables as truths, intimately so, trusting that we are cared for in similar fashion as birds and the lilies of the field.  Jesus always turned to nature, urging his followers to look within to find the kingdom, not far off in a distant heaven, but here, through our connection to the land. 

earth. 

for the sake of disclosure I should mention that I'm not a christian, nor religious in anyway. But I belong fully to that first church of nature, trusting Jesus at his word, that we will find heaven within our own hearts, here, right now, if we only turn within. 

that's all we're asked to do.

as Jesus always turned to nature...

so should we.

caring for our kingdom. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Led to Silence

Led to Silence: 

we are led to silence by the mantra, it's not created, but only revealed as our thoughts grow ever more subtle in their passing. It's been here all along, natural, and any effort to achieve its peace only takes further into a busy mind. The mantra is simply a soft utterance of a word or phrase without meaning, relying solely on the qualities of its vibration. 

we are led to silence through its easy repetition. 

relaxing in its thought.

without concern to what unfolds. 

and that's the way of mantra meditation, not by effort, nor force of will to repeatedly bring the word to mind. There is no concentration involved here, we're relaxing to a sacred sound that plays soft and naturally, falling into silence as if arriving to our deepest sense of home. 

it's the easiest thing to do. 

what usually happens is that we grow impatient to arrive, not wishing to be led to silence, we rush our way to its door and attempt to make our way in. The mistake is in our belief that silence is distant from any moment, that's absent from right now and somehow must be found. The mantra reveals that our every thought, indeed every sound heard -  already exists within the gentle hold of silence. 

in truth,

we aren't led to silence...

it's here. 

always. 

and the mantra only calms the surface of the mind,

revealing the quiet depth within, 

~

Peace, Eric 

A Beautiful Dharma

A beautiful dharma: 

my dharma is being, simply so, and nothing more ever truly needs to be added. In yogic philosophy this term is often used as our divine purpose, what we're meant to accomplish on our short time here on earth. In this light I easily see my dharma already fulfilled, and having done so the very moment I arrived to the world. 

my purpose is to be alive.

a beautiful dharma.

everything else is just an expression of my role, a rendering that gives meaning in temporary ways, artistically so, and all for reasons of curiosity and joy. There is no greater purpose than this, not in my view, it's not frivolous, but earnest and noble in pursuit. To allow myself to be alive without a role to fulfill other than being a sincere and giving expression of life. Yes, a pursue my passions, and this could be considered the entirety of dharma - not a single role or purpose, as life is too full of beauty and wonder to be confined by any single point of view. 

my dharma is being. 

and this is exclusive, holding my every talent and urge, my desires, and I was born not to fulfill anything other than to honor my unique expression in the world. It's enough to be alive, and I was given many gifts upon my arrival, talents, and the easiest of all to display is gratitude for life. Truly, that alone is a divine purpose, to be granted such a gift along with the capacity to know how rare this opportunity is, an entire universe aligned to have me here. 

a beautiful dharma indeed. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Animacy

Animacy: 

animacy is a grammatical distinction that refers to the degree that an object is perceived to be alive, it's a distinction of awareness given to something other than ourselves. In a deeper context though it seems to be a shared experience, that aliveness recognizes itself through the lens of my perception, consciousness in a nod to its own awareness. With language simply being a reflection of the intimacy of life. The greater the animacy spoken...the more our world becomes alive. 

yet I know little of grammatical rules, much to my mother's dismay, a grade school English teacher, as well as the nuns who did their most disciplined best to teach me proper rules. My own best writing comes by feel, intuitive, and taking considerable liberties with language. Words are alive to me, active things that have a will of their own, an urge for how they wished to be displayed. 

grammar factors little in their desire to be expressed. 

they have an animacy of their own.

everything does.

and it seems a heightened sense of arrogance for me to grant anything a degree of life, it would mean that the world no longer speaks to me in soft intimacy, or worse, that I no longer listen to the whispers that life has gifted to me. My writing would grow stale, a reflection of my own lack of animacy. So it seems to work both ways, my animacy is granted by the degree that I am able to sense the aliveness of the world, my ability to listen being the key to this connection. 

animacy is intrinsic to life. 

and everything's alive. 

we only have to listen. 

~

Peace, Eric  

Holy Days

Holy days: 

I'm going to wade into the Happy Holiday vs. Merry Christmas great debate here, mainly as just a topic to write of this morning, since I really have no real stake in the argument. If we take the term for its literal meaning, these are indeed holy days, from cultivating thankfulness on their lead off and to the end of year and a wish for a more peaceful, prosperous upcoming one - so everyday in between could easily be considered holy. 

to say Happy Holiday's is to be exclusive to the holiness found. 

Christmas itself never had the appeal of merriness for me, a joyful occasion, yes, but merry felt too light in its expression, feeling that the event of a holy birth had a heaviness to it, a responsibility of stepping into a new role required from this day one. Jesus is asking us to be reborn as well, a new life is offered and to accept this is indeed the arrival of new joy.

holy days have the weight of responsibility to them, we're to demonstrate that we're worthy to receive them, showing ourselves ready to bring more to a troubled world. Debating an issue of semantics is beneath us, showing that as yet we haven't truly been reborn, still stuck in a previous life of exclusion and division. The holy days, every single one regardless of tradition are meant to cleanse us of any fear, preparing us for the arrival of a greater, brighter light. 

no tradition owns this light.

it's for all of us.

if someone says Happy Holidays, they are wishing you well on your travels towards this light. It's an inclusive phrase that welcomes everyone to this path of holy days. We're all walking the path together, celebrating the near end of darkness and that soon each day will grow brighter now. Merry Christmas means that Christ has been born, an inclusive term too, as Jesus welcomed everyone to his fold, reaching out beyond tradition to teach the world to love. 

Merry Christmas my friends. 

these are indeed the holiest days. 

~

Peace, Eric   

Absolute Reasons

Absolute reasons: 

I'm about 45 minutes from heading outside to walk, it will be almost two hours before the sun begins to rise, cold out, and it's never easy to leave the warmth of home to get in these few morning miles. But I do so everyday, never an excuse to keep me inside and it's not because I've a point to prove to myself, this isn't a self-help project nor a form of developing  discipline. Of course I find it helpful for my emotional health, physical too, and being in nature could truly be considered a spiritual pursuit. 

especially so early. 

yet none of these are the absolute reasons for why I'm drawn out so early.

or to wake at 3:00 a.m to meditation, yoga, and writing. 

I am without absolute reasons, really. 

it's simply what I do. 

this has become enough for me, allowing myself to follow a strong urge that needs to be expressed, no longer willing to make excuses for how my life wishes to unfold. If it needed a label I could call this following the wyrd, an Anglo-Saxon word that signifies fate, destiny, a shamanic concept of being true to the inner callings of our deepest source of being. Through centuries the word has morphed into the English spelling of weird and signifies a behavior that we don't fully understand. Both seem to apply quite well, it's wyrd calling and I've completely surrendered to its call. 

perfectly willing to do so.

wyrd.

happily.

without need of absolute reasons for how my life unfolds.

it's simply how it goes. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Assemblage Points

Assemblage points:

I first learned the term assemblage point in my early teens reading Carlos Castaneda, intuitively understanding the meaning even as the concept itself escaped. Castaneda's books filled me with a sense of magic and that was enough for me at the time. Those teenage years are when we need magic the most it seems. In Toltec terms, the assemblage point is the place where awareness gathers to become our perception of the world. To shift that point is the goal of the sorcerers, it's how more subtle views of reality are come to be known. 

it's how we see other worlds. 

I'm not a sorcerer, although it's a fascinating view to study. And I'm still open to magic, maybe it's these middle years that require a greater shift in awareness, that magic is needed most now as I begin to turn towards an older age and begin to face mortality. Or course Castaneda urged this all along, using impending death as an advisor, keeping in mind that it's even present, a presence that lurks behind our left shoulder and is always ready to offer us its touch. The object of this awareness is to us diminish our self-importance, limiting the demands we place on the world to fulfill our sense of need. 

it's an important reminder. 

what I've discovered, rather importantly it seems, is that the assemblage point is ever shifting, and indeed our own body is a vast field of energy that offers multiple views of reality. We actually contain more microbes than human cells, just slightly past the majority but enough for me to consider myself a multi-dimensional figure, an assemblage point of infinite views, a collection of smaller consciousness that flows towards the sense of being an individual self - ironic in a way. 

so it's a shift that's happening on it's own, sorcery, and I'm less inclined to take myself so serious any more. It's impossible now really, energetically there is no individual self to hold such important all important opinions of the world. Mostly, I'm filled with joy for my own existence, that I exist within such a magical world where things called microbes gather to grant a sense of self-awareness. Smaller still, are molecules dancing, atoms creating structures, and particles becoming form. 

all of this, assemblage points for our consideration. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Rhizomatic

Rhizomatic: 

it's a new word for me, rhizomatic, and it pertains to a network that connects one point to any other point, nonlinear, having multiple points of  entrance and exits. There is little of this concept that I understand right now, it's too fresh for me to deeply comprehend. Yet it resonates, there's a feeling here that it somehow relates to writing, how at any point of my words connect me to not just the finish, but new starting points as well. The phrase reminds me that I'm connected in a similar entanglement of words and ideas and silence, all points within the mind that can be entered or left at any moment.

they're always present.

being rhizomatic to the writer. 

I'm in the process of discovering this word, exploring the concept, and there's a sudden invitation to begin writing. It doesn't matter that I'm not familiar with the word, it's an entry point, and instantly I find that there's an entire world to explore here, one idea connected to every other idea in existence, all belonging to an infinite field of inspiration. I can start at any point, ideas will find me, and writing flows completely on its own, rhizomatically, spreading from the original entrance point to the entire field. 

everything's connected as an idea.

even the writer. 

so truly there is no finishing point, no final word written. It's just a temporary exit, imaginary really, as what's connected can never be severed. It's a rhizomatic field, an open invitation, and every single idea given will lead me back here, to this ever present flow of inspiration, and my writing then continues. 

always. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Tree Stump

Tree stump; 

looking deeply, maybe less dependent on ours eyes, more from the soul, a gaze in search of insight - and we see the stories revealed by a tree stump, what once was, from seed to sapling and now with all that remains left rooted in earth. These are stories of a seed's survival, with so many possibilities to prevent its growth and then with just the right conditions somehow met for its initial sprout. It's amazing to consider the odds against this happening, only one in 10,000 acorns have any hope of being an eventual oak tree, with rainfall, sunlight and good fortune in optimal amounts, and still even then a sapling is left vulnerable for so many years to come.

it takes a great deal of time to become a tree. 

and an infinite amount of patience. 

yet this is the potentiality of every seed, that one day, ground rooted and branching through air, it's now fulfilled its initial promise of success. The full expression of a seed is seen in the vision of a tree. Even it's eventual fall, trunk and branches no longer reaching for the sky, only a tree stump remaining rooted, still being nourished through its fatal wound.

the earth still cares for that which falls. 

as does its companions, a forest of care, with science showing that trees share water through their inter-connected root system, nourishing their near dead friend, keeping it alive for decades longer until eventually it rots back to earth and in doing so provides nutrition for the soil. 

by the grace of others....

a tree stump is kept alive until its journey is complete.

returning to earth.

home.

looking deeply, less with our eyes, but with a soul-gaze - and we see that our own stories are told through a tree stump. It's the story of our initial potentiality as a seed, our survival, of being nourished by earth, air, and sunlight, and how are our deep roots of life connects us to the world. We come to see how we're entwined with one another,  dependent upon their grace should we fall. The tree stump tells a life story, complete, and with this we see ourselves reflected through its long cycle from seedling to flourishing tree and then eventual decline. 

yet more so, and only with keen insight -

we see our true connection. 

our story.

~

Peace, Eric 

Solstice and Hanukkah

Solstice and Hanukkah

nights are still stretching longer, it's just a bit in each direction of the day, with the sun setting early in the evening and its rise being further away each morning. This will continue for another 11 days, we're fast approaching winter solstice and then this trend of darkness will reverse course. I look forward to tracking sunrise earlier, as being outside each morning before even a hint of light brings a certain sensitivity to its approach. I'm becoming a student to the different shades of darkness and the quality of first light. And this has helped me deal with my own moods of darkness, as if I'm linked to the rising sun, and each morning fills with me just enough light to illuminate these winter days. 

we do what works for us. 

and even a little light is helpful. 

I'm not Jewish, yet I love Hanukkah, being in essence a celebration of light, eight days of oil lasting as a display of faith and hope. It's a beautiful holiday, a lasting tradition in the belief that we all contain an eternal flame that will carry us through our darkest days. Solstice and Hanukkah are my symbols of light and resiliency. Both show me that even a little light is often a great miracle of faith. There's just enough oil in every lamp, and everyday will only get so dark before dawn arrives. 

Solstice and Hanukkah.

celebrations of a dimmest light that refuses to be extinguished. 

we can all survive our darkest nights. 

and from here...

each day grows brighter through our faith. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Of Yoga and Leaf-Blowers

Of yoga and leaf-blowers: 

several days a week my quiet life is interrupted by leaf-blowers and lawnmowers, incessant sounds that seem to last the entire length of day, quickly becoming an underlying soundtrack of great annoyance. It's a minor thing to be annoyed with really, in no way impacting the overall quality of my life, just a noise that irritates me as I first settle into my afternoon meditation and my yoga practice. However, recent studies have shown that there sound is damaging to our health, not a minor annoyance but an actual hazard. Research reveals that exposure to these sounds increase the risk of heart attacks and strokes, lead to hearing loss, and a host of other health related issues. As well, these gas-powered tools are an environmental problem, spewing fumes into the air and adding stress to local wildlife, disrupting the habitat of critical pollinating species. So this isn't just my issue of yoga and leaf-blowers. 

there's a greater concern here. 

what this all points to is our need to approach life differently, calling for a deeper understanding of our impact upon the world. Cosmetic reasons of a manicured landscape can no longer be a priority, there are other issues at play and our actions should be examined for the impact that they cause. There reality is that we're interrelated to the land, health dependent to its well-being. Everything we do has a consequence of short order results as well as long-term impact. 

we are inter-twined with the land. 

that's my real issue, not just of yoga and leaf-blowers, it's not about my low level annoyance. We are damaging the world with our unexamined habits. Small things that simply aren't considered. But they should be. We're wiser now, educated as to our position and responsibility to the world. 

we're stewards of a promise.

whatever possibilities the future holds.

so yes,this truly is about yoga and leaf-blowers, it's a revelation of how we're entwined with others, with the landscape and even the smallest creatures. Our most subtle acts have an impact wider and far deeper than we may now know. We're asked simply, only, to live an examined life of wiser choices. We're asked to be kind. Yoga is really about our ability to respond. 

leaf--blowers are my reminder. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Original Purpose

Original purpose: 

it's a restorative practice, gentle, and originally meant to keep the body supple, strong, allowing the yogi to sit in comfort for a long stretch of time in stillness. I often lose sight of this original purpose, approaching this aspect of yoga as another event in a lifelong series of extreme endeavors. My poses generally become more challenging, seeking to hold them for ever greater periods, or defy gravity with my strength and balance. But with this I lose the gentleness of my practice, it's restorative effects, and I'm left again with a worn body, tired, defeated. 

so now I'm returning my yoga to its original purpose. 

being gentle with myself.

asanas are an essential point of yoga, a branch amongst the eight limbs, but a single branch and meant to work within a complete system of physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being. I love my practice, every aspect, from the ethical and personal restraints and observations, breathwork, asanas, and to its final point of meditation. It brings me great joy. Yet I am prone to over emphasize the physical, pushing harder and turning it into an athletic event, often seeing if I can extend a pose a little longer than last session, ignoring discomfort, and then paying a price for these efforts. Even after decades of practice. It seems I'm a slow learner on some issues. But now, hopefully, I'm ready to surrender...

returning my yoga to its original purpose. 

perhaps I'm learning after all. 

the point for me is gentleness, being kind to a body that has served me so well after a lifetime of hard use and continues to do so even now. It's a new relationship, based on every past experience, yet fresh in its perspective. My only wish is to be kind, easy, and treat my body as a friend. I'm learning. Although there's still mistakes, sessions where I push a little past my restraint, allowing myself the grace of old habits until I reign my enthusiasm back in. I'm learning, but ever slowly seems. 

I remind myself that there's a lifetime ahead to practice. 

and smiling,

return to my original purpose.

gently. 

full of kindness. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Kaua 'i 'o 'o's

yesterday I heard the final song of the kaua 'i 'o 'o, a subtropical songbird endemic to Kaua 'i of the Hawaiian Islands. It wasn't the actual bird itself, as I'm not in Hawaii and the kaua 'i 'o 'o  itself is now long gone, declared extinct in the early 2000's, but probably vanished decades earlier. What I heard was a recording of its most loneliest song, a male singing for a mate that no longer existed - and yet absent of hope, the song continued on...

it's what songbirds do. 

singing for the sake of their own existence. 

even if they're the last remaining songbird of their species. 

the song always must continue. 

aside from the beauty of its song, what I find myself thinking of is its final note, of the silence that followed and how it's now eternally absent from the kaua 'i 'o 'o's song. The world was in mourning and yet no one was aware. It's a forever silence, there's now one less song to fill its air, and I don;t know how to join this mourning. My own grief is unable to be truly expressed, it seems fitting to remain in silence after the final loneliest note is heard, as anything spoken in the immediacy of this grief would diminish the poignancy of the kaua 'i 'o 'o's final song. 

it's a forever silence now.

and the only way the world can mourn. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Deep Aloneness

Deep aloneness: 

it's come to be a time of deep aloneness for me, so many days spent mostly in my own company or few and fairly brief interactions with loved ones. I am solitary, but not withdrawn, feeling a keen and intimate sense of connection with others even through my silence. This is just my time to be alone, cultivating a relationship with myself that is independent from opinions and beliefs of how my life should be lived, and most especially - being free of my own demands, no longer giving them the final say on what truly matters to me right now. 

I am completely comfortable in this time of deep aloneness.

surprisingly so. 

this doesn't mean that I've given up friends or close connections with others, not at all. Deep aloneness is an inner quality really, that even in an interaction with another there remains an interior silence playing through, welcoming their company, yet without the need to interject an opinion of my own. I am softly quiet most of the time, much of my day spent alone, although my cats insist occasional conversations and I enjoy a visit from my soul companion and our dog. We walk together, enjoying nature, and there's little need to fill our time together with casual conversation, although that does happen. But mostly, we simply enjoy our time together, in silence or through words. It doesn't seem to matter either way. 

this is my time of deep aloneness, and I find myself content, happy, surprisingly so. What I'm discovering is how much I actually have to give to others, that silence is a gift that holds the potential for our every spoken word, for everything that will eventually be written. My deep aloneness is an infinite field that draws the world near in ever greater embrace of intimacy. 

it's truly something shared. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Subtle Things

Subtle things: 

the mistake is in believing that meditation leads anywhere at all, or that it will deliver us to a more awakened state than where we find ourselves right now. Meditation is simply relaxing into the atmosphere of this exact and only moment, and it's here that reality is revealed - we see that there's nowhere else we could possibly be. This revelation can be so surprisingly subtle that it's lost on us at first, we're looking for something more earth shattering, lights flashing, and an altered state of consciousness. But it's the subtle things that often matter most, like a slight paradigm shift that finds us in a completely different world - even as everything looks completely the same as it did before. 

yet how we view the world that's changed. 

that's how it is with the mantra, gently thinking it, allowing thoughts their complete freedom to come and go without offering any interference. Our only role is to think the mantra, always returning to it, but not in a crowded sense of drowning out other thoughts, we're not censoring ourselves in anyway. What happens is that we slip between our thoughts into an ever present silence, always without notice until we find that we've emerged and the mind begins to churn again. It's one of those subtle things, perhaps subtlest of all in its easy shift of our attention. 

and it's nothing that we've accomplished. 

we weren't led anywhere, no lights flashed for our grand awakening.

but everything is different.

a very subtle thing indeed. 

~

Peace, Eric 

In Praise of Walking

In praise of walking: 

to bring it all down to one simple practice, a complete morning ritual that covers all the bases for our physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being - and so with this I sing the praise of walking, getting out in earliest light and covering just a bit of distance, briskly, breathing mainly through the nose, and allowing nature to fill us with her joy. 

of course I still recommend formal breathwork, sitting meditation, and yoga. These are staple to my life, and never once absent from my practice. Yet walking can carry every aspect of these practices, as well as immersing us in the healing fractal of nature. Some studies have shown that being exposed to natural fractals can reduce stress levels by as much as 60%, calling this the biophilic effect, and worldwide simply being known as forest bathing. The effects aren't dependent on being in an actual forest, any natural setting will do, even a city block that has its fill of trees. 

so I write this in praise of walking, and the healing designs of nature. 

a natural yoga.

an easy morning meditation. 

and we can add to this, not much, but a few little details that bring its benefits a bit more sharply into focus. Early morning light is essential to our health, causing a hormonal reaction that first helps prepares for the coming day, low level stress hormones in just the right order, energizing, and later providing the raw material for much needed sleep hormones that will help close out our day. If we walk before breakfast we provide a boost to our metabolism, and if after, we burn those calories and help balance blood sugar levels. So it's a win either way. Our next step is to focus on nasal breathing, not forced, but just a gentle focus, allowing the easy flow of air to path through the nose, inhaling and exhaling light and softly even as we're walking briskly. The health benefits are many with nasal breathing, offering a natural filter to purify the air, increasing flow to arteries, veins, and nerves, improving lung function and circulation. These are only a few to mention, but for our benefit here we'll add that nasal breathing offers us a meditative effect, again with a gentle, easy focus, bringing our attention back to the airs passage for even a few breaths will add a subtle, energizing quality to our practice. 

Ff we are inclined towards the devotional we can add a mantram to our practice, choosing a holy name that works through its vibration. This isn't a mindless repetition of a sound, we're not chanting, it's just a gentle recall of a holy word - and with this meditation happens completely on its own. 

all of this, and so much more, is why I write in praise of walking. 

it's an easy practice. 

our most natural form of yoga.

~

Peace, Eric 

Headless Writing

even with my mark of words, the page itself always remains empty, being infinite in its service to hold whatever meaning that I write of, providing just the right space to define each word that's offered. The gift of writing is to face this emptiness daily and commit to navigating through its potential. My goal is never to attempt to fill the page with words, that's beyond my every effort, it's only to find my own reflection staring back at me in both its initial emptiness, as well as any eventual meaning that might be offered through my writing.

seeing myself at once as the void and its potentiality.  

seamlessly so. 

my wish is to always write from here, starting with this realization of emptiness and its creative service, allowing words to flow easily through my imagination, never once worrying about the limits of words or inspiration. Simply writing for the sake of writing, unafraid of pausing in eventual silence, knowing that emptiness is always present, serving, infinite in its patience. 

we could thing of this as headless writing, from our initial void to its full creative expression, being in service to beauty, imagination, meaning, and never once wavering it its commitment. To write from here is to be truly expressive, fulfilling our potential without concern for how it might unfold. The void is limitless, pure in its potentiality. 

it's what we are. 

 so I think of this as headless writing.

from emptiness...

to these present words. 

seamless. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Behavior

Behavior: 

in yogic psychology they're called samskaras, emotional imprints that so often drive our behavior in unwanted directions, some benign, yet many being quite harmful. It seems to be the nature of the mind, mostly beyond our control, patterns grooved into habits that dictate our every response. Yes, this makes us sound like puppets, stings of samskaras pulling us their direction and we're helpless to disobey, if we even notice the strings at all, as usually we just shrug our shoulders and believe our behavior is simply part of who we are, with nothing to be done to change things. 

yet yoga says otherwise. 

it's a gentle approach, not based on modification of our actions, nor pushing for any drastic changes. We simply notice, nothing more, allowing the light of our natural awareness to illuminate the mind. When we're aware of patterns they begin to change completely on their own, subtle at first, most often after the fact, as we start to wonder at the cause of our reactions. The genius of yoga is that it doesn't ask us to change, it makes no demands of our behavior, it only calls for us to practice and allow the ancient process of awakening to occur, easily, naturally, with almost no effort but our notice. 

there's no judgement.

everything changes through the lens of awareness. 

eventually. 

of course the practice of yoga provides ample opportunities for us to notice our behavior, not just with asanas and breathwork, but through the guidelines given by its ethical principles. The yamas and niyamas that are foundation of yoga, they're not commandments, more of a request for us to examine the deeper aspect of our lives, bringing our attention to the stories we tell ourselves, beliefs that we hold, and opinions that we greatly cherish. 

we asked to see the motion of life.

the fluidity of our minds.

inquiring into the very nature of reality.

and then simply living with that mystery.

samskaras aren't who we are, we're not how we behave, nor are we enslaved to the call and response of those patterns. We're free, already liberated, witness to our behavior, and once notice the tension of these dynamics begins to lessen, we're more forgiving with ourselves and others, kinder, natural with our empathy and compassion. 

all appearing without effort. 

it's simply who we are. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Pace of the Season

Pace of the season: 

with the beginning of December we're now in the countdown of days until Christmas, shopping and decorations begins in earnest for some, although for many it was following Thanksgiving and a rush to bring the next holiday near. I've never enjoyed the pace of this season, there's an energy that seems almost frantic, everyone's top concern being to scratch one more item off their list. There seems little time to simply be kind to others, or even to ourselves, that the immaterial essence of this holiday, the spirit of a holy birth, becomes lost in the pursuit of more and more possessions. 

being most about objects. 

we get swept up in the pace of this season.

I think this is why the Solstice has such a draw for me to note, it's a celebration of the length of night and that everyday after there's a slight increase in the faith of returning light, symbolizing our own gain of insights and understanding into life. It's a holy birth as well, a new consciousness of light emerging from the previous darkness. 

a true celebration of the immaterial. 

for me, the best way to celebrate is to slow down, changing the pace of the season to match my inner delight of spirit, to not have it dictated by pursuit of any object. With Solstice drawing near there's a little less light each day, our true pace is slower now, we're drawn within to prepare for the holy birth of a new year, gaining in light thereafter until it retreats once more for another cycle to begin. 

solstice is the celebration of the pace of life. 

it's the essence of the season. 

the holy birth of light.

~

Peace, Eric