Five Rites

Five Rites: 

of course I don't know if they're actually Tibetan in origin, there has a myth about this yoga since first discovered by the Western world through a book published in 1939. The author, Peter Kelder, claimed to have learned the sequence of moves from a retired British military officer who had traveled the world and spent time in India were he received the Five Tibetan Rites from a Lama. The story is disputed, as well as the origin of this yoga. Yet little of this matters to the actuality of my practice. 

my body responds well to these movements. 

and that's enough truth for me to know.

the rites are five moves done for repetition and sequence, dynamic in their approach, and much different from my usual taste of yoga. I began practicing them nearly 25 years ago, sometimes for extended periods of time, often only building them into my standard practice where they would eventual be replaced by more traditional Hatha yoga poses. However, lately, intuitively, I've been drawn to practice early in the morning, soon after waking and first meditation,  once again being captivated by their mystery. 

most importantly, my back is being healed. 

and I love adding this ritual to my morning.

it seems my body knew this well before my mind, drawing me in this direction, an intuitive whisper through my cells. Over the years, especially as my yoga practice has deepened, I've learned to listen to these whispers, trusting in the direction of their urge. The Five Rites seem to be exactly what I need right now, gently easing me towards recovery from injury, and more so, opening me energetically to the morning, as if my spine is awakening from dormant slumber to a new and vibrant world.

I have no idea why I'm responding so well to this yoga. 

but I'm re-devoted to their practice.

healing, just a bit more,

with every morning. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Greatest Joy

Greatest joy: 

my preference is a slow rise to meet the morning, first offering a thankful prayer that I'm alive to greet another day and then immediately begin the rituals that bring me greatest joy. This starts with sukhasana, easy pose, my very first asana and used to sit in meditation. It's a joyful pose for me, connecting me to ground, lengthening spine, and hips gently stretched. My morning begins with prayer, yoga, and meditation, without fail, rituals that lead me with ease through the rest of my day. 

there's more from here, a longer session of yoga follows, and then preparing my single cup of coffee that's cherished for it's connection to my writing, how that first sip always triggers my creative response - it means it's time to write, everything leading to this exact point of receiving inspiration. 

writing might be the most important ritual of all. 

it's the fulfillment of my dharma. 

or at least brings me greatest joy.

but the truth is, none of these rituals can be separated from another, my entire morning is far too seamless now to view any aspect broken from the whole. It's one complete expression told in chapters of a morning story, all without end, spontaneously expressed through the vibrant voice of life. My greatest joy is simply being alive and it's that energy that causes my initial morning prayer, brings me to an easy pose of silent meditation, and then asking for the motion of my body. 

that's my yoga.

all of this. 

it's the fulfillment of my dharma.

and brings me greatest joy. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Sense of Potentiality

Sense of potentiality: 

I think what I most love about my mornings is the sense of potentiality they hold, that anything can happen, there's magic available, or at the very least, a sense of mystery as to how it will all unfold by the ending of the day. This is cultivated early with my meditation on first rising, a deep silence that immerses me in its promise, showing how everything starts from here, and that it remains with me throughout the day if only a turn inward and listen once again. It's a beautiful promise, and one I do return to as I approach my morning's writing. 

every word will first emerge from silence. 

my only role is listening.

and then writing what I hear,

this same sense of potentiality is found on the page, an initial emptiness that's just waiting for the fulfillment of my words. Anything is possible, silence could whisper the most subtle inspiration in my ear and urge me to express on the page. Or perhaps nothing at all for a given length of time and I've come to love this period as well, having a feeling of restful awareness as I simply sit in the quiet mystery of the moment. Words will find me here, as they always do, so I'm content, watchful, eager to hear whatever inspiration will whisper to the page. 

and nature too holds this promise, as after writing I head immediately out the door to see what mystery the woods and fields might hold. It's always something, a sense of potentiality fills the morning air, and I don't even wait for first light to explore these secrets. It's all available to me right now, everything, yet only in its initial promise, primordial, existing in that sense of potentiality until I show to witness. 

that's the magic that I love. 

this mystery.

how anything might happen.

~

Peace, Eric 

Opportunities

Opportunities: 

there's been opportunities here, even a hurt back presents a chance to reevaluate my approach towards yoga and well-being. It's not that what I was doing was wrong, it didn't lead to injury, but that right now I am limited to a more gentle practice of yoga and with this I've been given the chance explore some options that have been overlooked before. Yoga nidra is an example, having long been placed in the back of my mind as a worthy practice that I would eventually find my way towards. Of course that was put off for years as I always found a more dramatic pose or practice to dedicate myself to, believing that Pratyahara, the fifth limb of yoga, was somewhat less important than the rest of my practice and at the very least, was already covered in meditation and lying in savasana at the end of my asana session. With less poses to do during my practice, limited by what my back will tolerate, I found myself drawn to yoga nidra, unexpectedly really, and have discovered a new world to be explored, a deep healing taking place, giving me cause to wonder what other opportunities might present themselves now. 

I vow to stay open, 

watchful for new or old expressions of yoga that might make themselves known.

and not push any aside, giving each my due consideration.

curious to see what opportunities they hide. 

~

Peace, Eric 

As a Tree

As a tree: 

I think the asana that calls most for my surrender is vrksasana, tree pose, that once my own roots are established in connection to the ground, my arms reaching upwards as branches, and then what's left for me to do seems to be the hardest part of all - completely surrendering to the posture. This is my moment of poise, balancing, if everything is locked in place, I'm truly standing as a tree, I feel as if I could stay in this pose forever, or at least the length of several breaths dedicated to its hold. 

if only I surrender.

and that's vital, as it's not a difficult pose to enter into, but once established it calls for breath and mind to ease into a steady calm, letting go of anything that gives cause for me to sway. Vrksasana reminds me to trust my roots, my earth base, and that from this connection I am free to reach upwards, lengthening my spine, standing as a tree, strong and poised through the sweep of life's winds. 

it's a powerful posture, elegant, 

and I approach it each time as if I'm an absolute beginner. 

there's always a need to re-establish my roots, if I reach my arms upwards to soon than I am sure to fall or begin to sway early on, with my body acting as a cue for breath and mind to follow. I can only surrender once the roots of this asana are firmly planted and my arms are branched in balance. It's the perfect metaphor for me to live right now, showing that my strength is ground-based, home, and that this is from where I'm meant to lift myself, reaching as a connection between earth and air. 

having faith in the familiarity of what's known,

 as well that which must always remain unseen. 

and with this,

poised, connected as a tree...

I let go.

~

Peace, Eric 

Out of Season

Out of season: 

it can be a heartbreaking month for me, February, through no fault of its own really, but only due to my rush for spring and refusal to accept the present season and all that it offers. Often in these last several weeks of winter there is a false taste of early spring, warmer days, and thoughts of snow and ice seem so far away. I love these days, they're a gift out of season and should be treasured as such. Today is an example, in the final week of January and it's to reach the high 60's, just days after bitter cold and snowfall. It's hard for me not to wish this warmth to stay. 

yet a gift is to be accepted without conditions added on.

and it's still winter after all. 

any heartbreak is my own delusion. 

so I cherish this day, a gift offered out of season, and do my best to accept without adding my demands for its length of stay and for more to follow. It's enough to simply feel the warmth of the sun's rays against my skin, unencumbered by layers of bulky clothes, and to even acknowledge that the breeze still hints of winter's present hold. Nothing is really out of season, a gift isn't removed from it's current place and offered as an anomaly, it always and fully belongs to the moment that it's given.  

so February is soon to begin, another month of winter left, and colder days still in the earliest of spring. I'll accept each day as it's offered, making no demands, not even of my heartbreak. It too has a season of its own and belongs to the moment that it's given. Everything appears exactly as it does without having to fit my expectations. February always gives me ample reasons to remember this, it's a month full of gifts for me to accept without condition.

reminding me that nothing is ever truly out of season. 

there is only the grace of my acceptance. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Final Outcome

Final outcome: 

the final outcome is always surrender, not as a goal, nor with any point of an achievement, but that now we're free of those concerns, entirely so, and life simply continues in its present flow, unobstructed by our opinions and demands. In yoga this is Isvara pranidhana, last of the Niyamas, the personal observances used to help us see the path more clearly. The Yamas and Niyamas are arranged in specific fashion for our eventual letting go our incessant sense of I-ness and our need to claim every action as our own. They're designed so that we move forward towards the more subtle practices of yoga and no longer carry the full baggage of an ever grasping ego. 

by the time we reach this stage...surrender happens on it's own. 

being the final outcome of our practice.

always. 

again, this isn't something that we can push towards. If we do than we are back to our original point of striving for an object, or a feeling of victory and achievement over the obstacle of our sense of self. The truth is that there are no obstacles here, our sense of self-hood is an illusion that is seen through with clarity of a discerning view. 

our final outcome has been present all along. 

there is nothing to surrender, and no one present to give themselves away. 

it's just a continuous surrender.

life, in its ever present state of flow. 

always. 

~

Peace, Eric 

In Terms of Yoga

In terms of yoga: 

it's mostly a matter of semantics now, to use the word practice in terms of yoga is simply for the sake of clarity and ease. I no more practice yoga than I do breathing or heartbeat, it's a natural action, showing how my life unfolds in spontaneity and wonder. 

even as I do a specific thing called yoga. 

the truth is that I don't have to do anything at all, yoga is lived, expressed through every facet of life, and a lifetime of practice has lead me to this conclusion. What I've always been doing is just being myself, drawn towards what seems a discipline but is really just an artful display of life, being the same as any artist devoted to their craft. 

in terms of yoga...I've only practiced what I love. 

and that makes all the difference. 

 so I often refer to it as a practice, the specifics at least. Yet really it's too seamless to draw a line between activities and label them with a term. It's just yoga, all of it, from meditation and breathwork to my time sitting at a desk and arranging words across a page. I make no distinctions now, and refer to it as a practice because honestly, I love the word and what it implies, that my life is full possibilities that call for a response and my only role is to give myself to each one as best as I am able, unafraid of mistakes or outcome. 

it's a practice after all. 

in terms of yoga...

I simply live my life. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Yoga Nidra

Yoga nidra: 

sometimes it's not a setback at all, although it may certainly appear that way during the moment of it''s focus. For me, a back injury was cause to shift my attention from the most demanding asanas towards a more gentle approach, with an emphasis on healing not just my damaged body, but some long ignored emotional wounds as well. In a certain light it seemed that my reliance on motion and the strength of my body prevented me from going deeper into my practice, and even after decades of meditation I wasn't quiet ready to take this dive within.

until now, with my body forcing me to slow down.

and so I turned to yoga nidra, a restful practice also known as psychic or yogic sleep, is a modern technique of an ancient design. It's a means of pratyahara, the fifth limb of ashtanga yoga, vital in turning the senses away from the busyness of the world towards our inner stillness. Yoga nidra guides us through this process, lying in savasana, a systematic meditation that allows us the explore the pancha maya kosha, the five layers of self, and come to a restful understanding of who we really are. 

it's a beautiful, restorative practice.

one that I long ignored in pursuit of a stronger mind and body. 

until now.

this is my moment of deep rest, slowing down and turning further inwards. My assumption was that my sitting meditation practice alone was all I needed for emotional healing. And it's an invaluable tool, essential to my yoga, I absolutely love my time of simply sitting as my mantra plays so effortlessly through my mind. But yes, an even deeper rest now calls to me, asking me to withdraw my senses from the world until I reach a depth that has yet to be fully explored.

and it's there that I lose myself.

completely. 

there's a pureness found here, silent, whole.

it's been waiting all along. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Standing as a Mountain

Standing as a mountain: 

it's just standing tall, one of the simplest asanas, feet in deep connection to the ground, and the spine lengthen in a reach towards the sky. Tadasana has become a favorite pose of mind, standing as a mountain, an easy sense of stillness, mindful of breath and the smallest aspects of my posture. Mountains are alive with subtle motion, they are a bedrock for ecosystems to form, not biologically classified as life, yet they are teeming with diversity that can't truly be separated from their ground of being. 

they are indeed a living thing. 

and standing as a mountain, arriving to that point of stillness where I become aware of subtlest motion of my own body, alive with the same diversity, being more truly a field of energy for the solid stance of my appearance. That's the beauty of this pose, coming to know my aliveness by simply standing tall and still, not seeking motionless, but finding myself aware of my body as a wave of energy and life, sensing each cell in cooperation with another, joined in their effect of creating my existence. 

tadasana, standing as a mountain. 

aware. 

a bedrock for an ecosystem to form.

this is the truest sense of yoga, its very essence, arriving to this place where stillness exist as motion, not a separate event as all, but one thing in cause of reality. This one pose has become end point of my practice, all of yoga contained within the moment of my hold. It's taken me a near lifetime to come to this conclusion, and even now it seems as if I'm only, finally, beginning. That's the beauty of standing as a mountain, time has little meaning, the awareness here is ageless, and I am called to simply surrender to this pose, tadasana, tall and sure of my existence. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Overlooked

Overlooked: 

with age, injury, and maybe a slight amount of wisdom, my yoga practice has been transformed from another athletic feat to a more gentle, mindful practice. Asanas that were once overlooked have become the core of my routine, an entire session might be built upon just a few simple postures, favorites now, and most importantly, healing body as well as my emotions. There are hidden depths to these asanas that I never cared to notice or explore due to my penchant for the more dramatic and demanding poses. But I seek healing now, a different approach is called for and my stubborn approach is finally laid aside. It's time for me to explore what these gentle poses offer. 

the truth is, 

that even these seemingly inauspicious postures present a challenge.

and perhaps that's the reason that they were once overlooked, that they demanded more from me than I had wished to give, asking far greater focus and attention on simply being still, patient, settling into each asana for whatever length was asked for, content within its gentleness and ease. Not every challenge is meant to be conquered, force isn't always my best and only answer. That was a big revelation for me, one that took me far too long to apply in yoga and life as well. My practice isn't meant to be an achievement, it's not an event, and shouldn't be approach as just another workout. It's taken decades for my ego to be laid aside and to just allow myself the joy of motion and ease of stillness found at the end of each pose. Or more truly, that every asana is a complete practice on its own, calling only for my attention and a mindful approach, and what's revealed isn't a secret at all, but simply overlooked in my haste to reach those more dramatic poses and the answers I believed they held. 

so there's only a few poses each session now, just enough, and each asana is honored as an all important lesson for me to learn. There's no secret here, only a commitment to be open, humble, and honest in my approach to every pose. 

no asana is overlooked. 

and with this...

life becomes my practice. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Walking in the Snow

Walking in the snow: 

there's a new blanket of snow waiting for me this morning, several inches atop the last layer of just a few days ago. It's bitter cold as well, in the teens, and the sun hasn't risen yet to offer me its warming rays. I'll head out for a few miles this morning, two is usually the minimum, walking briskly, although the snow will slow me down considerably. I don't enjoy this weather, winter is a season that brings my low level depression to the forefront, everything becomes more difficult by degrees, struggling for a sense of equilibrium,comfort and ease. Winter - makes these harder to find. 

but still, I head out in the snow. 

my earliest morning walk calls to me.

and I answer everyday.

regardless of the weather. 

I could call this therapy, a healing dose of nature, or even part of my spiritual practice. They would all be true. But really, it's just walking in the snow, without need of a specific label. It's simply what I do, and even in the worst weather there's a deep joy found in simply being outdoors, venturing out in darkness with hours still before sunrise. Walking in the snow, especially at this time, reveals the underlying silence of the world. Any noise made is quickly reabsorbed by a hush that seems to hang in the air to collect every sound. It's magical, and worth the extra layers of clothes, the initial shock of cold that greets me and eventually seeps past the layers and reaches to my bones. 

walking in the snow isn't easy, there is little comfort no matter how warm I try and dress. But it's right outside my door where the magic is found, and there's little choice involved in my heading out to brace the cold. Every morning reveals some slice of mystery, different for each season and condition, and I no longer try and rationalize my need to join with it. 

it's simply what I do.

and walking in the snow...

reveals my own belonging to the mystery.

~

Peace, Eric 

Completely So

Completely so: 

following close to the Yoga Sutra's, taking Patanjali at his word, and really it's just a few asanas now, swastikasana to sit in meditation and followed by an easy flow of poses to loosen my body, readying myself for the rest of the day. My practice is centered around this seated posture, along with child's pose and shoulder stand, focus placed on breath and steadiness, ease, and having a sure sense that for right now, nothing more is needed...

my yoga is complete. 

there's a high emphasis on the physicality of yoga, virtually all practices being based on asanas and little attention given to its essence, on how it was truly meant to be lived and expressed through every aspect of our lives. This isn't to diminish the physical points of yoga, our bodies should be carefully tended too, stretched and kept mobile and strong. We are given an amazing vehicle to navigate through life and it deserves our highest care and honor. But not at the expense of the full practice of yoga, with equal attention being given to the cultivation of prana through breathwork, a brief rest through withdrawing our senses from the constant noise and motion of the world, and deeper still to be absorbed in the inner bliss of meditation. As well there are the ethical considerations, following the sutras in their instructions on compassion and caring for the sake of others. 

that's the entire path of yoga. 

completely so. 

and at a certain point, all of this is surrendered, practice becoming a seamless flow of life, truly steady, relaxed, joyfully at ease. This is Nisgara Yoga, naturally expressed, spontaneously lived without need of sutras or instructions. With this, my yoga is complete, without label of practice, but simply lived and easily known as life. 

completely so. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Authentic Fashion

Authentic fashion: 

what I've always hoped for was a medium that would allow me to share my writing with an appreciative audience, just large enough to feel my words have a certain reach yet still retaining a sense of intimacy and connection. Perhaps I could earn a small income as well, supporting myself for further writing and a quiet life of creativity and contemplation. 

it's a nice dream. 

I also believe that social media has not made this entirely possible in so many ways now. It's a beautiful thing to witness, how so many people are committing to a creative life and daring to share themselves in such an authentic fashion. My own step into social media has been tentative, posting my work on Facebook and a few other sites that are filled with mostly with my friends and like minded people. Not a daring leap, but it's a start to gain confidence and I've been happy with the interaction that's been gained. New friends have been made, connections, and that's no small thing for me. Every bit of communication is valued and adds more meaning to my writing. 

connections mater. 

of all the social media sites, it seems that YouTube holds the most promise, surprisingly to me as I've been shy to embrace this more visual approach to sharing. My channel started as a fun way to join a community of fitness enthusiast, filming my workouts as a means of accountability and encouragement, with this somehow leading me to talk a bit of life and the views I hold on certain matters. Mostly, I talk of yoga, my personal path of meditation and nonduality, my love of nature, and various topics that spontaneously occur to me. It's become its own art form, new, something undefined that allows me to explore ideas fearlessly in my own authentic fashion. It's a platform I've grown to love. 

of course it has its own challenges, every platform does. 

but this has been a creative leap for me, fun, a little fearful, and something I'm now committed to in a way that's been completely surprising to me. I am most certainly sharing a part of me I've long kept hidden in a background of social anxiety, a life long shyness of talking to more than even a few people. An early childhood speech impediment has always made presenting myself in public difficult, a discomfort lingering into my adult years. Yet I find myself at the edge of this fear, having a deep wish to share my thoughts and words, using this platform as a means to show my most authentic self to others. My fear isn't any less, it just doesn't seem to have the same grip any longer.

I'm a bit more free to share now.

and so I do,

in my most authentic fashion.

~

Peace, Eric 

A Calming Pose

A calming pose: 

a few months ago I wrote of balasana, child's pose, and the near panic it would often initially induce, a strong sense of restriction of breath, followed by a lasting anxiety through its duration. It also relieves my back pain. So I find myself committed to the pose, not just for the pain relief, but to work through the anxiety that sometimes shows, settling in and breathing softly to that edge of panic, simply allowing myself to be present to whatever unfolds -

emerging safely to the other side. 

oddly, child's pose is said to be calming. I have no idea why it might be a trigger for such a powerful emotional response. There is something that seems to rebel as I settle into the asana, not always, most often it truly is a calming pose, yet occasionally the opposite occurs and I find myself faced with a strong sense of anxiety. Since I first wrote of this I've worked steadily with balasana, not to induce this reaction and try to navigate my way through it, but to just see what it offers with each session on the mat. Most often it's a calming pose, soothing, easing tension in my mind and back, and only occasionally does anxiety beckon. 

usually just the edge.

my breath guides me through the experience, it's not used intentionally, at least not at first, but observing the shallowness of my breathing, higher in the chest, restricted. This is what I have to work with, the present moment of my experience - it's not a story yet, it isn't called anything at this point, anxiety doesn't exist, there's only the breath right now, guiding me through what's present. 

and I trust my ability the breathe. 

with this I find myself settling into breath and posture, nothing purposely done, I'm not altering the experience in any way. Just allowing, that's all, allowing what is and being mindful as it shifts in patterns of breath and energy, how my thoughts seem to follow along with these subtle changes. Everything settles on its own, breath and body ease into a truly calming pose. 

my only role is trusting the deep wisdom of the body.

allowing the pose to simply happen. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Dr. King

Dr. King: 

yesterday was Martin Luther King day, a federal holiday, and it's meant to be an occasion of high honor for such an important man to so many Americans of all races. Dr. King is more than an important historical figure, he is a living force that still carries the energy of the movement towards racial equality, tolerance and kindness to all. He was, and remains, a towering figure of great significance. His message lives on. What strikes me as important is in how Dr. King created this energy that still resonate today, and indeed, might be more vital to put in practice than ever. We are faced with crisis on many fronts right now, equality still an issue despite so much progress made, there is a wish to put the struggle behind us even as we're far from being finished. As well we find ourselves in great political turmoil, rights being stripped away or diminished, a climate catastrophe happening in plain view with litter serious action being taken, and many of our leaders afraid or unwilling to be truthful concerning our present situation. 

the energy Dr. King tapped into is all important. 

it's the only thing that we save us.

and it's love. 

King was clear in his message, he talked of love as being the only way to proceed into the future. that it's critical to any movement that seeks to make great and lasting change. Sometimes, more often than I care to admit really, I'm fearful that his message has been lost to us, that an assassination bullet robbed us of a great man as well as that vital force that fueled his message. Yet much like Gandhi, who was his spiritual mentor in many important ways, Dr. King is still a powerful presence in the world, beyond a one day celebration, he's a reminder of Gandhi's most powerful message -

be the change you wish to see in the world. 

so many today speak of love, and some even preach it from the culprit, but it is steeped in rhetoric that belies its actual practice. We're not living the change we wish to see. And the world suffers greatly for this, literally so, with destruction of all that's vital to us hanging in the balance. Martin Luther King day isn't just a holiday, it's a testament to the energy he tapped into, a reminder of how much more work we all have to do. 

and only we can do it. 

it's crucial that we try. 

~

Peace, (truly so) Eric  

Engaged in Conversation

Engaged n Conversation: 

lately, I find myself engaged in conversation more, listening to various and long ignored voices of the world and responding in return. Most frequently I talk with the things that bring me joy, that nourish me in body and soul, showing my appreciation through thankful words and knowing that their reply is in the flavor and nourishment of the food I eat, or the smile that lights from my heart as I view the beauty that fills each day, especially as I walk my neighborhood paths so early in the morning, surrounded by nature. I am engaged in conversation with it all, everything, even the cells of my body speak to me of their concerns, asking for just the right amount of sunlight and sleep, exercise and the perfect foods that show my care for their well-being. 

everything has a voice. 

if only we pause and listen. 

really, this could be considered a form of prayer, directly so, being in conversation with the soul of every aspect of the world, and taking time to acknowledge their existence. I am supported by so much that's barely, if ever noticed, ignored through my failure to take the time to see how how I deeply I'm entwined in this conversation. 

the prayer has always existed. 

and just now I'm learning to listen. 

I'm reminded pf the words of the German mystic Meister Eckhart who said that if the only prayer we ever say is thank you - it will be enough. And now it seems that I am called to give thanks, but more so, to listen and show my gratefulness through staying engaged in this conversation, a continuous prayer of the soul of the world voiced through the small joys that have called for my notice. There's sorrow here as well, and I'm called to heal simply by acknowledgement of this, bringing the light of my attention to everything that grieves. 

engaged in conversation, indeed a prayer...

everything's included. 

joy, sorrow.

the soul of the world has many voices.

and I listen to them all. 

grateful for my own inclusion. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Beavers Have Returned

Beavers have returned: 

it was only just over a month ago that I wrote of my wish for beavers to return to my local pond after an absence of close to two decades. They were a small presence here, just a few, but neighbors complained of tree damage and had them removed. There are other ponds in neighboring villages that support a healthy population so I wondered if they would eventually make their way back, following the stream system to return to my pond. 

and happily, beavers have returned. 

I hope they're able to stay. 

what I wrote of was the vital aspect beavers play in local ecosystem, that yes, some damage may occur, yet there are ways to mitigate that, working with the species so that the area itself thrives for all concerned. It seems vital to me that we finally learn this lesson, that we are not masters of our habitat in quite the same way that the wildlife is, and that it's time to finally place our trust in the wisdom of nature and not force our ways through every situation. It is possible, many areas have learned to coexist with wildlife to the benefit of every species. Now that beavers have returned, we have that unique opportunity help them thrive and watch an entirely now ecosystem come into play. 

I hope they're able to stay. 

so having so recently written of beavers I won't go into detail of their benefits to the land. Yes, there is short term damage to many trees, and there are also means to keep this to the minimum. Most importantly it's the human mind that has to adapt, to realize that our homes are part of a greater ecosystem at large, an earth based community that spreads farther than our eyes can reach. We're not separate from this, we're home, deeply so, within the very same landscape that holds everything from beavers to hawks, songbirds and moss covered rocks, and even, happily so, the few wandering bears that made their way through my neighborhood last year. 

they all belong. 

it's a continuous home for every species. 

I feel a responsibility here, like I've energetically called for beavers to return, having a strong desire for their presence here. I will advocate for them, be their voice in addressing my neighbors concerns. But honestly, I have small hope that they'll be allowed to remain. The ownership of land is strongly exclusive, property values being of the highest concern. I understand this, not putting anyone at fault, yet there's a unique opportunity here, a lesson on the inclusive reach of nature and how we can learn to adapt to it's ever changing ways. 

mostly importantly...

we can show that we belong to the land...

and not the other way around.

~

Peace, Eric 

Sankalpa

Sankalpa: 

it's a powerful resolve, aligned with deep forces of universe and soul, and in Sanskrit it's called a sankalpa, meaning an intention of the highest order. In yoga this is a tool of manifestation, magical in the sense that it works within, an energy that flows from unconscious mind to touch the world. I love working with sankalpas, using them to set myself on the right course of travel, showing that I'm clear in how I'd like my life to unfold from this point on, and then trusting in the energy of my intention. 

offering my own least interference in good faith. 

trusting life,

relaxed.

aligned with deep forces of universe and soul. 

that's the power of a sankalpa, that it allows for my complete surrender, my faith placed in the actuality of the moment, and knowing that life provides the details for an intention of unfold. This is an allowing energy, there's no attempt to force my will against the world. I make no demands. It's simply a thought of highest inspiration, infused with the sincerity of a desire. 

and then surrendered to the universe at large. 

trusting life.

relaxed.

knowing that I'm aligned with deep forces of universe and soul. 

a sankalpa works from here.

and my faith is given to the details that unfold. 

~

Peace, Eric 

About Freewill

About freewill: 

the debate, in some circles at least, is about freewill and if it's something we have or not -  are we simply guided by neurons firing through the brain, neural activity that gives us little if any actual control? More scientist are now of the belief that this is so, that this neurons guide our activity before I'm even away an option has been posed. So no freewill. Many spiritual camps say the same, using different language of course, but arriving to a similar conclusion that there is no acting agent that's making these all important life choices. It's a difficult pill for us to swallow, we cherish the thought of our freewill and having the ability to choose our path, be it the small choice of what's for dinner to the larger points of navigating through the major events of our lives. 

we believe we're in charge. 

and mostly need to make better choices. 

personally I'm not sure it's an either or point, as it certainly appears that we have a choice in matters large and small concerning our lives. Yet, my own conclusion, one arrived to by investigating my thoughts, how they simply seem to appear through no power of my own, is that I really don't have an answer to this all important question. I just don't know. A choice appears, a decision made, and life rolls on fairly smoothly without questioning my involvement. It's a pretty good system I would say, one that profits better with least interference from my end. 

or so it seems. 

meditation, yoga, self-inquiry, decades of spiritual practice, haven't brought me to a special place of knowing all the answers. Or any answers really. And that's point actually, arriving to the present state where everything is immediately let go, surrendered, choices made, and life continues uninterrupted in the beauty of its flow. I've done nothing to make any of this happen, life is magical this way, blessing me an abundance of air to breath and a functioning body, everything gifted to meet my basic needs. None of this has been a choice I've made, not in this larger picture. Yet there have been countless moments, infinite times, where it seems I've made some all important choices. 

and through it all...

life continues. 

about freewill, 

I simply have no need of answers. 

or so it seems. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Ego's Point of View

Ego's point of view: 

some of the most important yoga asanas to me right now are the ones once glassed over, considered filler poses to hold a place between the more dramatic postures that fit my image of yoga. I'm almost embarrassed to remember how ego based my practice was, driven by performance, even as I practiced alone and the only praise was occurring in my mind. Worse, the entire time I was convinced that my ego was being tamed, diminished to the point of being free from its grip. It seems that ego has a way of sneaking in the back door and making itself at home again. 

almost every time. 

what's different now is mostly age, being older and less inclined to chase ego away or to make it feel at home. Mainly it's just a presence within a larger sense of presence, a voice that urges me to consider a point of view that no longer feels like my own. I'm more apt to smile at my own follies these days, no longer driven by need nor accomplishments, and that includes any wish to eliminate the ego's point of views. It's easier just to smile, relax, and live my life through joy. 

my yoga practice reflects this.

or perhaps now I finally reflect my true practice.

it doesn't matter either way.

right now my yoga practice is healing based, gentle, designed to calm some long held pain. Both physical and emotional. The voice of ego is often strong, urging me to drive harder and hold every pose longer, an athletes voice, body based, with everything judged by the previous standards once performed. But my easier approach is calming, quieting this voice to a whisper that soon drops to silence, no fight necessary, no need to push away its presence. 

I'm just less concerned with ego's point of view.

and gently, gently...

continue with my practice.

smiling all the while. 

~

Peace, Eric 

From the Full

From the full: 

perhaps the most profound line of all, regardless of texts, the first words of the Isha Upanishads is revealing in its brevity and depth - 

"That is full, This is full. From full comes the full." 

it's tempting to say that it could take a lifetime to unpack these few words, for it to fully sink in and realized to the point of it being a living actuality. But I'm not so sure, I think it's more a matter of being ripe for the damage of the words, their impact so striking that the ego's hold is shattered and we're simply left with the fullness they describe. 

and from the full comes the full. 

we are that. 

the beauty of this line is that it leaves absolutely nothing out, there's only inclusion here. Look around at the the beauty of life and know with certainty that we belong, intimately so, without even the slightest degree of separation existing from what's seen and our deep participation. These words place us directly in the action, amidst life there's only life, and that's exactly where we're found. 

from the full.

of course I've read those words literally hundreds of times with little impact, beautiful I thought, but let's get on to more important matters, past the introduction to the actual truth and wisdom of this ancient text. I glossed over the message, maybe just not ready for the whispered secret here. 

only fullness exist. 

and I am that already.

from the full...

here.

~

Peace, Eric 

With Every Walk

With every walk: 

I think what that draws me out to walk each morning, hours still before sunrise, is simply curiosity, something new is revealed to me with every walk - and I'm eager to discover what might be shown. It's a soft adventure of these early hours, night's over, yet darkness lingers in slightly lessening hues, subtle, but noted if I pay attention to the qualities of light and the shadows that play across the ground. Everything's a mystery right now, a borderland of two worlds touched together so briefly for only these specific moments just before dawn.

 and I don't dare miss them any longer. 

as my wish is to be revealed as well. 

 discovering myself as something new.

with every walk.

and truly that's it, my walks reveal my deepest participation with the world, that I bring the qualities of my own involvement with light and shadows, acting as a listening presence to whatever animal scurries along the edge woods and trail. These walks are more of a prayer than exercise, I am asking for a show of God in the mysteries of these hours, not in metaphors, but through the actualities of my experience.  My prayers are always answered, softly though, not in grand gestures of a higher power, but just my own revelation of belonging fully to these hours. 

that I am touched on everything by light and shadows. 

with every walk...

I am shown that I belong.

and my curiosity only grows stronger each morning, drawing me out so early, joining these two worlds through the bridge of my awareness, 

finding myself in deep participation. 

revealed. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Every Pose

Every pose: 

my favorite yoga pose will often change with the present mood of my body, with the more challenging asanas being favored when I'm at my best, pain free and not easing my body through some past trauma that's returned to pay a visit. Right now I am working through a back issue that's being quite stubborn in its stay, an old injury that never fully healed and will often cause me problems if I'm overly ambition with certain poses, or hold them a bit longer than I know I should, but my enthusiasm so often carries me away from common sense. I'm learning to live with my present body, a difficult task it seems, as I'm older but still fit and love to work with the physical challenge of these postures. Energetically and emotionally as well my favored poses call for me to settle in and surrender to the breath of the experience, holding an asana until a point of steadiness is reached, poise, finding myself smiling at the grace that has somehow been revealed. What I'm learning now, finally it seems...

is that this grace is found through every pose. 

but that I've missed it due to an ego's focus on the challenge. 

and all I've ever had to do - was let go.

surrendering to every pose. 

no matter if it's favored. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Arrive

Arrive: 

lately, it's writing that I'm drawn to, or more precisely writing about the subject itself, my process and how I arrive to inspiration. This is also my fall back position, one I turn to as an easy source of material, knowing that it's a wellspring of hidden insights that never fail to surface. Yet the truth is that I don't arrive to a point of inspiration, it's not even a mental place I find myself searching for, at least not any longer - writing happens on its own time, never mine, I am simply fortunate to by present and available when the right words finally appear. 

I just make myself open to inspirations agenda.

and that makes all the difference. 

it helps to have a theme, approaching my writing session with a clear idea in mind. But that isn't always the case, fairly often it's cold opening, and I find myself waiting for the first idea that might eventually turn to an inspirational flow of words. That's been the key lesson, learning to wait, patiently without fidget, focused on the task at hand which is always and only on the present silence. This is writing, it's not always an action sequence of fingers flying across the key boards as ideas continuously leap from mind to page. It's mostly the much slower pace of finding just the write word, or maybe a pleasure line of deep beauty and then writing a connection to a larger theme. 

quiet often there's no words at all. 

and I've learned to be okay with that, more so, trusting silence as the raw source of every word that's yet to come. If I search for inspiration from here I will never arrive, it would be like asking fish for the directions towards the source water, I'd miss the most obvious due to the intimacy of its presence, its very familiarity leading me astray. 

inspiration arrives in the soft touch of silence. 

not in a rush of words, or ideas reaching madly to the mind.   

my only role is to be here as it arrives. 

listening...

~

Peace, Eric 

At This Point

At this point: 

at this point I'm not sure I even need to write, that perhaps the ritual alone is enough, showing up each morning to sit at my desk fresh from meditation and yoga, coffee at hand, and to simply let the hours unfold in silence. Yet it seems that words appear and I'm drawn to the task at hand, listening, writing only what's inspired, content with what's been given.

writing just happens.

my only role is presence. 

it wasn't always so easy, I've muddled the process for years, interfering with my own best process of writing by demanding inspiration appear a certain way and exactly when I wish it to. The problem was, I believed myself to be a writer, I had a definite role to play, an identity of high self-importance and would feel bereft if inspiration passed me by. Of course I was my own worst enemy here, and it's a wonder that words were able to find me at all through the hubris of my beliefs of being an author. Really, the problem was one of false identity, claiming too much of a role when I all I ever had to do was relax and allow silence the critical importance of art and inspiration.

everything comes from silence. 

I only had to learn to listen. 

or more truly so...

remember. 

and that was a process, it comes from refining a skill, in my case, crafting words with care and refining a style that hopefully held a lyrical bent, as well as developing the discipline to show up at my desk each morning with the intent of writing, having an energy that seeped to the edge of devotion and then overflowed to reach the page. I fell in love with the process, true love, unconditional, which meant I no longer cared to judge my words, more so, I came to realize that they weren't my words at all - words, and love, are never owned, they are lent to us in a momentary hold of inspiration. 

so what I truly learned...

was surrender.

writing simply taught me how.

and at this point,

 I joyfully let go. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Some Mornings

Some mornings: 

there are some mornings when I have no clear idea on which to write of, not uninspired, just lacking a particular theme to begin my morning writing sessions. Usually, between the course of waking, meditation and the amount of time it takes to brew my coffee, something will occur to me and inspiration unfolds from there, words flow from that point on. But not always, there are a few mornings, very few really, where I approach the page without any notion of what's to come, if anything...

yet somehow, 

words always seem to find me. 

years ago, I possessed less faith that would happen, there was that small anxiety that every writer knows, that perhaps this morning no words would come at all. My writing mantra at that time was repeating the phrase " words on a page" any words would do and the only had to have significance to me, marking the occasion that I had fulfilled my role as a writer. But really, it was mostly to push the dread of silence away, that even a few words meant I never succumbed to being uninspired.

a writer after all. 

those days are gone now, or so it seems at least. There are still some mornings that have a settled silence that simply doesn't wish to be disturbed - that's the inspiration, it's never been about words nor my claim to be an author, only the silence matters, being an invitation to relax, wordless, without ideas, and simply enjoy the emptiness that some mornings offer. 

I have no idea how long these moments last, 

but when they're over.

words always seem to find me. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Committed to My Yoga

Committed to my yoga: 

almost at first rising I'm committed to my yoga, a quick prayer of thankfulness for finding myself awake, breathing, alive, and I am soon into my beginning asana for the day, sukhasana, easy pose - this is a sitting posture for meditation, legs folded, stable and at ease. Sukhasana is the yoga of Patanjali, it's what he asks of our practice, finding a balance of steadiness and ease and with this to allow meditation to unfold completely on its own. 

it's a beautiful way to start my day. 

committed to my practice. 

I should note that I use the word practice here not so much in the sense of discipline, but more as a description of love, devotion really, and that it conveys for me a feeling of imperfectly navigating through life, yet filled with grace and ease - that I am always on course, even as I wander far from home. My life is yoga, already joined through union with the divine, and any practice simply serves as a reminder. More truly, it's just a display of joyful motion. 

enjoying the gift of being alive. 

this is why I enjoy sukhasana so much, it's a symbol for me, that first I remain still, a gathering of pranic energy that soon comes to motion and engages fully in every aspect of life. Sukhasana prepares me for participation, opening my spine, a gentle stretch through hips and legs, calming my mind. It singles that I'm committed to my yoga, whatever it might bring to me each day. Each morning there comes a spontaneous smile as I sit in sukhasana, it's an easy pose that suits me so perfectly. 

that I'm committed to my yoga...

steady and at ease. 

however my day unfolds. 

~

Peace, Eric 

These Colder Mornings

These colder mornings: 

everything seems just a little more difficult on these colder mornings, rising from bed and I'm immediately confronted by a slight chill in air that quickly settles to the bones, joints creak with stiffness and my back aches as I sit through meditation and then begin early yoga practice. It's the price of a body that's carried me long and hard through the years, travel wounds of an adventurous life. 

on these colder mornings it seems I feel every past year and adventure. 

no matter the weather though, unless extreme to the point of danger, I walk a few miles before the sun begins to rise, greeting the morning and allowing earliest light to gather to my eyes. The cold brings a deeper silence to this time, winter mornings being a hushed atmosphere, and sounds carry farther in the chill air. My neighborhood woods feel somewhat like an ancient cathedral, holy, as if holding every past sermon still lingers and all I have to do is match my silence to the air to hear those voices. But the cold woods have a different sermon altogether, the creak of trees with even the slightest breeze whispering through bare branches, streams temporarily defying winter's attempt to freeze, an occasional stir along the edge of the path as some creature brave enough to venture these colder mornings scamper from my view. It'a beautiful time of year, made more so by the difficulties of arriving here, having to prepare my body more carefully, adding layers against the air, taking precautions against a slip of ice along the path, and bracing myself for that initial chill as I leave the warmth of my house behind. 

these colder mornings are a smaller adventure for me now. 

yet worth it every time. 

~

Peace, Eric 

 

Our Smallest Actions

Our smallest actions: 

by all indications this new year promises to be a volatile one, being in the height of political season in a bitterly divided country, migrants seeker sanctuary and being greeted with suspicion and anger, the world in turmoil with unnecessary warfare, and the planet continuing to suffer from a mostly ignored climate crisis - that's a list just from briefly glancing at the morning's headlines. It's certainly overwhelming and yet alarmingly easy for most of us to ignore. None of this seems to affect the immediacy of our day, life goes on in 2024 much as it always has before. 

and there's little we can do anyway. 

or so we believe. 

but literally, we are only ones that can effect change, individually working to shift the collective whole. It's the little things we do daily that add up to a greater change, such as altering our diet to reflect a more conscientious and empathetic outlook, educating ourselves on how even our smallest actions can impact others even from a world away, offering love and understanding to our neighbors who might hold a different opinion than our own. 

we're each responsible for the healing of the world.  

through even our smallest actions. 

it's this responsibility that most draws me to yoga, that even in what seems a retreat from the world is still an entanglement of mindful actions with deep implications of healing. The path of yoga begins with the ethical restraints of the Yamas and the personal observances of the Niyamas. We're asked to take responsibility for all of our thoughts and smallest actions. The conclusion of yoga is Samadhi, enlightenment, but not in the sense that we're now aloof and removed from the world, more so than ever we're entangled with each other, knowing of our duty to be of service, selfless in our actions. The path of yoga is to commit ourselves to healing. 

through even our smallest actions. 

things seem a little less overwhelming through my practice, still large and looming in their presence, but I'm able to begin my work now, facing the year with my own commitment to cause change and be a healing force. My smallest actions matter. They're a beginning. Even as I sit in the silence of my morning meditation...

the world is healing. 

~

Peace (truly), 

Eric 

New Year

New year: 

just a few hours into the new year, 2024, and I'm up at my usual time of 3:00 a.m for meditation, yoga, and writing. There's my one cup of coffee for the day at my desk, still too hot to barely sip and yet I continuously try until the temperature settles and my sips become routine. After I write these words, whatever they shape to be, I'll go for my morning walk, first of the year, hopeful that nature greets me with the sites I'm always eager to see - fox, owls,maybe the long elusive suburban coyote that's been rumored to roam the neighborhood. 

the new year starts out identical as yesterday for me.

it's a routine now, each day blending in much the same as every other.

seamlessly so.

and yet....

there's magic here too, nothing is ever repetitious - that I can do the same yoga pose each morning and it's always a new avenue of exploration in an ever changing body, a shifting thrill of energy that never fails to leave me astonished at what's found. Meditation is a fresh dive into the endlessness of consciousness that is a constant surprise of silence, decades of practice and it still leads me to a genuine realm of inspiration that eventually touches the page of my morning writing. 

always without fail. 

and every moment unfolds as this wonder, a new year in an instant, and it only takes my attention to discover the magic that is present. That would be my resolution, not any type of self-improvement, but to simply notice, and notice, and notice...

continuously so.

a new year with every moment.

showing me its magic. 

~

Peace, Eric