What is your highest aspiration for your own life contribution? What do you most want to be able to give to the World, Life, Humanity, the Cosmos, or God?
Certainly a question that begs contemplation.
I recently began Craig Hamilton’s 9 week online course called “Integral Enlightenment: Awakening to an Evolutionary Relationship to Life. “ This was our opening discussion question. Virtually, of course. There are 1200 people from all over the world taking this course.
I’ve been thinking along these lines for quite some time, especially since returning from India. What exactly are my highest ideals? What kind of imprint do I want to leave in the world? How do I want to do it? Where do I want to do it?
I’ll admit I’ve been a bit restless at times, living in LA. In the back of mind, for many reasons, I’m thinking I should be working with Doctors Without Borders somewhere in Central Africa or India. I ask myself wouldn’t my life be more meaningful there, wouldn’t I be making more of a significant contribution? The West has everything it needs and more. I could serve the world better by being anywhere but LA. I’m not attached to it and I’m happy to leave anytime.
However, everything that unfolds for me throughout the course of every day, indicates otherwise. In addition, I’ve had enough spiritual teaching in my life to know better. It’s just been something that has been annoyingly persistent in the back of my mind. Or more honestly the forefront of my mind. Until now.
So if my highest ideals are service, giving, loving, healing, inspiring, then the only question , really, is…does my life reflect that today, here, now? Are my activities of daily living consistent, and in alignment with these ideals? Such a great question!
Of course there are days when it doesn’t feel that way, but in general I feel overwhelmingly blessed by getting to do the things in life that bring me the most joy. Here in LA. Seeing my yoga classes grow, seeing the healing power of mantra in the lives of people as I lead kirtan, coming in contact with great spiritual teachers who help me to unveil hidden inner wisdom and compassion, are the things that charge me, excite me, and propel to keep evolving. To keep giving, serving, loving, and inspiring.
May all of our lives be in alignment with our highest ideals. And as my dear teacher Max Strom often ends his yoga classes, “May we teach peace in the only way it can be taught, by example.”
Namaste
Friday, July 8, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Turning 50
The past few weeks have been rather interesting as I’ve just allowed myself to explore what turning 50 means. It’s such a milestone, probably one of the biggest ones, and I’ve just wanted to spend some time mulling it over before putting my thoughts on paper.
The illusion of time has proven to be even more of an illusion to me now. I don’t know where it has gone. I’ve lost track of it, it seems to be speeding up, it used to be slower, there’s no more of it to kill, etc. What is it, this crazy thing, time? I was this person at a previous time, then I was that person, now I’m this person again. It just doesn’t make a lot of sense to me when I look at the passage of time from 1961-2011, my 50 years here on the planet so far. So many radical changes over the years. So many incarnations of Tim. Whew, exhausting to think about.
I feel stronger, healthier, and happier now than in any of the previous decades. Shouldn’t I be getting younger rather than older? Shouldn’t I have more life ahead than behind? Geez, I feel like I’m just getting started. And just like that, 50 years, poof. It ‘s such irony, maybe a cruel irony depending on your view of death, that just when you start to let your life ebb and flow more freely, you’re on the downward curve of your time.
Because of my Buddhist practice, I think and meditate on death frequently. It fuels my passion for the sacredness of precious human life. And yes, I know death is inevitable, natural, and necessary. But like everyone, I hope to put it off for as long as possible. That’s why I live life the way I do today, to improve the quality of each day, and to pile virtue onto my mental continuum for the next life.
But even with all this knowledge and awareness, I still find myself wanting to put on the brakes a bit and slow this aging process down. I’m happy to be 50. As is commonly stated, it beats the alternative. But that number, that finite number, 50. A not so subtle reminder that I don’t have too many more numbers to play with. Everyone has a number. And I must admit, up until this point, I haven’t given it too much thought. However, now, it’s boldly commanding my attention.
Here’s what it’s saying. There’s no more time for:
wondering what if, self doubt, lack of confidence, shame, fear of failing, fear of not being good enough, not forgiving, not living authentically, playing small, getting stuck, holding back, not believing in goodness, pushing love away, bottling passion.
Time is now. Life is today. 50 is a wonderful number, a gift that I embrace. It has helped me to affirm that: Divinity resides within, The world is my teacher, I am guided by higher power, and I am guided by inner wisdom.
The illusion of time has proven to be even more of an illusion to me now. I don’t know where it has gone. I’ve lost track of it, it seems to be speeding up, it used to be slower, there’s no more of it to kill, etc. What is it, this crazy thing, time? I was this person at a previous time, then I was that person, now I’m this person again. It just doesn’t make a lot of sense to me when I look at the passage of time from 1961-2011, my 50 years here on the planet so far. So many radical changes over the years. So many incarnations of Tim. Whew, exhausting to think about.
I feel stronger, healthier, and happier now than in any of the previous decades. Shouldn’t I be getting younger rather than older? Shouldn’t I have more life ahead than behind? Geez, I feel like I’m just getting started. And just like that, 50 years, poof. It ‘s such irony, maybe a cruel irony depending on your view of death, that just when you start to let your life ebb and flow more freely, you’re on the downward curve of your time.
Because of my Buddhist practice, I think and meditate on death frequently. It fuels my passion for the sacredness of precious human life. And yes, I know death is inevitable, natural, and necessary. But like everyone, I hope to put it off for as long as possible. That’s why I live life the way I do today, to improve the quality of each day, and to pile virtue onto my mental continuum for the next life.
But even with all this knowledge and awareness, I still find myself wanting to put on the brakes a bit and slow this aging process down. I’m happy to be 50. As is commonly stated, it beats the alternative. But that number, that finite number, 50. A not so subtle reminder that I don’t have too many more numbers to play with. Everyone has a number. And I must admit, up until this point, I haven’t given it too much thought. However, now, it’s boldly commanding my attention.
Here’s what it’s saying. There’s no more time for:
wondering what if, self doubt, lack of confidence, shame, fear of failing, fear of not being good enough, not forgiving, not living authentically, playing small, getting stuck, holding back, not believing in goodness, pushing love away, bottling passion.
Time is now. Life is today. 50 is a wonderful number, a gift that I embrace. It has helped me to affirm that: Divinity resides within, The world is my teacher, I am guided by higher power, and I am guided by inner wisdom.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Why I teach yoga, part 2.
The first time I answered this question it had more to do with my personal practice. This latest collection of reasons has more to do with others.
I asked the students in my Senior Class to describe what yoga means to them. I had given them textbook definitions of the meaning of yoga during class, but I wanted to hear what their personal definitions were.
Here is what they had to say:
The thing that is so inspiring to me is that the majority of these comments are from folks in their late 60’s/early 70’s who have never practiced yoga before. They come from all different backgrounds, and different religious persuasions. Some work, some are retired, some are Catholic Nuns, some never go to church, some have studied yoga philosophy, some, or most, didn’t know the meaning of Namaste. It’s all just a simple testament to how universally healing this practice is, no matter when one comes into it.
I’ve been teaching some of them for over a year now, and love seeing how the practice has brought so much joy into their lives. Our time together every week is very simple. We breathe a little, we move a little, we come together as a community, and we leave with a little less stress, and a lot more peace.
Namaste, to the Senior Citizens of the North Hollywood Community Center
I asked the students in my Senior Class to describe what yoga means to them. I had given them textbook definitions of the meaning of yoga during class, but I wanted to hear what their personal definitions were.
Here is what they had to say:
Your yoga class has helped me to become more flexible. It's helped my balance, improved my posture, & increased my strength (by standing on one leg at a time, for example.) It's made me aware how breathing can be controlled to be stress relieving & calming. You remind us not to be judgmental or critical of others, or ourselves. You remind us to think positively, & you remind us that there are a lot of things to be thankful for.
Thank you for teaching the class!
Namaste.
Darice
Yoga, to me, is a "pleasant" form of meditation! Because of yoga I feel that I am gaining more awareness of my physical body and my daily surroundings, life, nature, etc. - all good for the soul. I also feel that my focus and my mind is gradually improving.
Thank you!
Eleonore and... Namaste
Thanks! Your class is great!
My definition of yoga is one that I've taught for 40 years in world religion classes to adolescents and adults and that is the root of the word yoga is the same as "religio" -- to bind or yoke. There are a number of types of yoga, each one reminding the practitioner to bind or yoke their intellect, body, emotion, or anything else to the one who has given us LIFE. The mission of my religious order comes from the Gospel of John:10:10 "That all may have life, life to the full."
Namaste
Gretchen
Yoga is very important to me and it is even more evident when I miss a class. The quiet time, the physical benefits, opportunities to spend time with my friends and of course a great teacher!!
Nancy
Yoga is an altogether too brief interlude of focusing on just me and how things are "working". Afterward, everything seems to be back where it belongs and the day is so comfortable. After yoga, when I get up from having sat for awhile, there is no need to "unfurl" myself. I can just get up and go!
Love it!!
MAJ
I feel so comfortable in knowing that no matter how sore I get --- that I can stretch it out. Yea!!!
Namaste!! L.H.
Yoga = Calmness and Serenity
Breathing = Well Being and good posture
Norma
Yoga means so much to me. It allows me to find my balance in every way possible, muscularly, breathing, physically between the inside of me and my surrounding, in relation to other people, mentally and emotionally and spiritually. Our class is a practice space, a your teaching and caring builds my skills and then I go out into the world a little changed, perhaps innoculated from experiences that can lead to inbalance (and I have a teen, so those experiences are a given).
Yoga for me is a part of my ongoing growth experience.
Thank you and I love the emails.
Namaste
Liz
Sthira Sukham Asanam
Namaste
Dennis
When I’m tempted to get angry, I remember yoga and I’m not so angry.
Ursula
Tim, thank you so much for a wonderful experience yesterday and the peace and calmness it brought. Your class is truly a blessing and is the only time that I "really" let go of my daily thoughts. There is something magical about your class that surprises me (in that my daily duty seems to be to save the world - LOL). Anyway, thank you for taking the time and putting in the effort to make our Saturday truly special.
The thing that is so inspiring to me is that the majority of these comments are from folks in their late 60’s/early 70’s who have never practiced yoga before. They come from all different backgrounds, and different religious persuasions. Some work, some are retired, some are Catholic Nuns, some never go to church, some have studied yoga philosophy, some, or most, didn’t know the meaning of Namaste. It’s all just a simple testament to how universally healing this practice is, no matter when one comes into it.
I’ve been teaching some of them for over a year now, and love seeing how the practice has brought so much joy into their lives. Our time together every week is very simple. We breathe a little, we move a little, we come together as a community, and we leave with a little less stress, and a lot more peace.
Namaste, to the Senior Citizens of the North Hollywood Community Center
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
What 2010 has meant to me
Once again I’m on a plane. Since I’ve flown over 75,000 miles this year it’s starting to feel like my office, or my meditation cushion, or my yoga mat. I’ve discovered it’s a great place to plan, to think, to reflect, to dream, to imagine, to hope, to let go, to rejoice, to cry. It’s all there at 36,000 feet.
This time I’m on my way to Kuaui to go on a 4 day hiking excursion and then get some R and R on the Big Island for a week. So my mind is spacious, and my heart is light. Especially when I reflect on the amazing year that 2010 has been. I love this time of year, the ending and the beginning all kind of happening at the same time. Just like the continuum that life in reality really is, I suppose. But it’s so important for me to acknowledge and embrace all that was and all that will be. Funny isn’t it, how we never really know how the year will unfold. We set intentions, make New Years resolution, and then bravely step forward into possibility. From a Buddhist perspective, there’s also that element of ripening karma to consider. But that’s a big unknown as well.
Looking back into 2010, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude, joy, and humility when I sit in stillness and absorb all that was and continues to be: my perfect health, my loving family and friends, the wonderful teachers who have guided me, the wonderful students who have inspired me, my generous friends Jared and Maite, who have provided me a home, my yoga practice, my meditation practice, my surprisingly successful business. So many gifts, so much richness. My own little Pure Land in LA, where the peaceful externals have matched the peaceful internals. I’m not sure it takes much a spiritual practitioner to accomplish that. But I’ll take it and simply, humbly, say Thank You.
Of course who knows what 2011 holds. My wish is that I will be able to embrace whatever unfolds with the same mind of gratitude, humility and joy. My yoga teacher starts her classes asking us to set an intention. “What do you want to bring in? What do you want to get rid of? And be as specific as possible. Plant that intention like you’re planting a seed.” Specifically, I would like to bring in more healing. Both to myself and to others. Once a nurse, always a nurse as they say. My practices of yoga, breathing, and meditation have opened that door beyond my wildest imagination this year. More in 2011 please. Specifically, I would like to get rid of judgment. Both of myself and others. It’s such a painfully useless mind, and it blocks the flow of love.
These are my wishes. I resolve to accomplish them as best as I can. But if I don’t, or if I don’t accomplish them in the way I imagined, my only wish is to surrender, to forgive, and accept. It’s so very OK to be human. I seem to forget that sometimes. So maybe a better goal this year is simply to embrace humanness.
Namaste
This time I’m on my way to Kuaui to go on a 4 day hiking excursion and then get some R and R on the Big Island for a week. So my mind is spacious, and my heart is light. Especially when I reflect on the amazing year that 2010 has been. I love this time of year, the ending and the beginning all kind of happening at the same time. Just like the continuum that life in reality really is, I suppose. But it’s so important for me to acknowledge and embrace all that was and all that will be. Funny isn’t it, how we never really know how the year will unfold. We set intentions, make New Years resolution, and then bravely step forward into possibility. From a Buddhist perspective, there’s also that element of ripening karma to consider. But that’s a big unknown as well.
Looking back into 2010, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude, joy, and humility when I sit in stillness and absorb all that was and continues to be: my perfect health, my loving family and friends, the wonderful teachers who have guided me, the wonderful students who have inspired me, my generous friends Jared and Maite, who have provided me a home, my yoga practice, my meditation practice, my surprisingly successful business. So many gifts, so much richness. My own little Pure Land in LA, where the peaceful externals have matched the peaceful internals. I’m not sure it takes much a spiritual practitioner to accomplish that. But I’ll take it and simply, humbly, say Thank You.
Of course who knows what 2011 holds. My wish is that I will be able to embrace whatever unfolds with the same mind of gratitude, humility and joy. My yoga teacher starts her classes asking us to set an intention. “What do you want to bring in? What do you want to get rid of? And be as specific as possible. Plant that intention like you’re planting a seed.” Specifically, I would like to bring in more healing. Both to myself and to others. Once a nurse, always a nurse as they say. My practices of yoga, breathing, and meditation have opened that door beyond my wildest imagination this year. More in 2011 please. Specifically, I would like to get rid of judgment. Both of myself and others. It’s such a painfully useless mind, and it blocks the flow of love.
These are my wishes. I resolve to accomplish them as best as I can. But if I don’t, or if I don’t accomplish them in the way I imagined, my only wish is to surrender, to forgive, and accept. It’s so very OK to be human. I seem to forget that sometimes. So maybe a better goal this year is simply to embrace humanness.
Namaste
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Why do you teach yoga?
I’m on the plane from Atlanta now, returning from a busy workweek in Florida. It’s been a great week, even though a bit exhausting at times. As I struggle to keep my eyes open from fatigue, I keep thinking about what my teacher recently challenged us with the last time she was in town. Why do you teach yoga? Know what that is, and plant it deep in your heart like you’re planting a seed.
It’s really important for me to remember that, especially when I’m tired, when I’m busy, when I’m anxious, feeling overwhelmed, etc. I stayed on the beach in Daytona this week and had 2 very special practices under the moonlight. Last night I didn’t think I could move but finally dragged myself down to the edge of the water, and let it heal my body and my mind. After a lot of OM’ing and other chanting, loudly into the crashing sound of the waves I might add, I was able to gradually move. The vibration of the continuous OM left me feeling tingly and teary. The deep breathing left me feeling open and warm. And then like magic, everything kicked in. I was so energized and happy. Clearly healed of my aches and pains, mentally and physically. At least in that moment. So there it is. That, is why I travel across the country, get back to LA at midnight, and get up to teach the next morning. That’s why I say yes to teaching level 2-3 flow classes when I feel like I’m way out of my league. (Thanks Ryan for pushing me). That’s why I practice when I feel sad or happy, lonely or connected.
The reason I practice and teach yoga can be summed up very simply in the following:
I have an unwavering faith in its indisputable healing power. My life validates it.
That practice last night was a nice grounding experience, as I left to meet my former partner for dinner. We hadn’t seen each other for more than 6 years. I needed to make sure I was OK before I saw him. I was. It was a sweet evening.
So much healing has occurred. It was nice to see it, to feel it. To enjoy the fruit of so much effort and commitment.
I woke up this morning and realized I had dreamt that I was flying.
OM SHANTI OM
It’s really important for me to remember that, especially when I’m tired, when I’m busy, when I’m anxious, feeling overwhelmed, etc. I stayed on the beach in Daytona this week and had 2 very special practices under the moonlight. Last night I didn’t think I could move but finally dragged myself down to the edge of the water, and let it heal my body and my mind. After a lot of OM’ing and other chanting, loudly into the crashing sound of the waves I might add, I was able to gradually move. The vibration of the continuous OM left me feeling tingly and teary. The deep breathing left me feeling open and warm. And then like magic, everything kicked in. I was so energized and happy. Clearly healed of my aches and pains, mentally and physically. At least in that moment. So there it is. That, is why I travel across the country, get back to LA at midnight, and get up to teach the next morning. That’s why I say yes to teaching level 2-3 flow classes when I feel like I’m way out of my league. (Thanks Ryan for pushing me). That’s why I practice when I feel sad or happy, lonely or connected.
The reason I practice and teach yoga can be summed up very simply in the following:
I have an unwavering faith in its indisputable healing power. My life validates it.
That practice last night was a nice grounding experience, as I left to meet my former partner for dinner. We hadn’t seen each other for more than 6 years. I needed to make sure I was OK before I saw him. I was. It was a sweet evening.
So much healing has occurred. It was nice to see it, to feel it. To enjoy the fruit of so much effort and commitment.
I woke up this morning and realized I had dreamt that I was flying.
OM SHANTI OM
Sunday, October 17, 2010
IT GETS BETTER
As I sit on the front porch of the home I grew up in on this spectacularly beautiful Fall Sunday morning, I’m overwhelmed with a feeling of gratitude. So much stillness so much peace. I feel like I’m in an extended Sivasana. Nothing to do, but absorb. No plans, no goals, nowhere to be, nowhere to go. Just to sit and enjoy the sights and sounds of the morning.
Home. A place of refuge. A place to recharge, a place to plug in to stillness. A place to hear and feel my breath, to hear and feel the breath of nature. To touch peace. To feel the lifting of my life stuff, and imagine it dissolving into the fog floating above the motionless lake in front of the house. A moment of presence, a moment of now. A moment of perfection. Mmmmm.
Then, a Buddhist thought comes to mind. Offer this moment of perfection, Offer your mandala. Offer it to those who only dream of peaceful presence. To those whose “now” is a far cry from yours. I think about all those gay teens who will never know this, who didn’t give life enough time to get to this moment.
I know for me, there were many times as a teenager, sitting in this very spot where what appears to be a Pure Land for me now, only appeared like Hell at that time. Struggling with my newly emerging feelings toward men, that I didn’t understand and prayed would somehow go away. Feeling despondent and hopelessly trapped in this seemingly insurmountable conflict with my religious upbringing. How, why? All the self hatred, and confusion left little room for hope or peace. I don’t think I ever contemplated suicide, but I certainly felt like I was dying inside. I felt like a freak and I vowed to do everything in my power to be different and to feel differently. To fit in, to be loved. Fortunately I was able to fit in, externally anyway. But on the inside I was in agony.
The thought of someone telling me “it gets better” would have been amazing. It would have saved years of self loathing, years of searching for comfort, for relief, from the agonizing, unending inner conflict. Just someone to say, you’re perfect just the way you are. God didn’t make a mistake, you’re not a freak. It’s OK to feel what you feel, to love who you love. It’s all OK. Now let it go, move on, and live out your dreams.
I wished I would have heard that then. But better late than never, because I certainly hear it, and experience it now. It’s been an arduous and painful journey at times. But yes, IT GETS BETTER. I’ve taken on a variety of roles in the past 50 years. A preachers kid, a missionary, a party boy, an activist, a Buddhist, a yogi. All amazing roles, all so vitally important in weaving together the fabric that I see today sitting on this porch. I’m fortunate that I’ve had a loving family throughout this journey. They haven’t always, and probably never will, understand me. But they never kicked me out, and they never stopped loving me. For that, I am most grateful. Many of my gay brothers and sisters in the South are not so lucky.
So for them, and the countless others, we say, it gets better. It gets better because we love you. We believe in you, in your inherent goodness, in your perfection, in your fabulous gayness.
We’re out, we’re visible, we’re living our dreams. We’re here to help. We’re here to support.
We are your Role Models.
So hang in there because indeed, IT GETS BETTER.
Home. A place of refuge. A place to recharge, a place to plug in to stillness. A place to hear and feel my breath, to hear and feel the breath of nature. To touch peace. To feel the lifting of my life stuff, and imagine it dissolving into the fog floating above the motionless lake in front of the house. A moment of presence, a moment of now. A moment of perfection. Mmmmm.
Then, a Buddhist thought comes to mind. Offer this moment of perfection, Offer your mandala. Offer it to those who only dream of peaceful presence. To those whose “now” is a far cry from yours. I think about all those gay teens who will never know this, who didn’t give life enough time to get to this moment.
I know for me, there were many times as a teenager, sitting in this very spot where what appears to be a Pure Land for me now, only appeared like Hell at that time. Struggling with my newly emerging feelings toward men, that I didn’t understand and prayed would somehow go away. Feeling despondent and hopelessly trapped in this seemingly insurmountable conflict with my religious upbringing. How, why? All the self hatred, and confusion left little room for hope or peace. I don’t think I ever contemplated suicide, but I certainly felt like I was dying inside. I felt like a freak and I vowed to do everything in my power to be different and to feel differently. To fit in, to be loved. Fortunately I was able to fit in, externally anyway. But on the inside I was in agony.
The thought of someone telling me “it gets better” would have been amazing. It would have saved years of self loathing, years of searching for comfort, for relief, from the agonizing, unending inner conflict. Just someone to say, you’re perfect just the way you are. God didn’t make a mistake, you’re not a freak. It’s OK to feel what you feel, to love who you love. It’s all OK. Now let it go, move on, and live out your dreams.
I wished I would have heard that then. But better late than never, because I certainly hear it, and experience it now. It’s been an arduous and painful journey at times. But yes, IT GETS BETTER. I’ve taken on a variety of roles in the past 50 years. A preachers kid, a missionary, a party boy, an activist, a Buddhist, a yogi. All amazing roles, all so vitally important in weaving together the fabric that I see today sitting on this porch. I’m fortunate that I’ve had a loving family throughout this journey. They haven’t always, and probably never will, understand me. But they never kicked me out, and they never stopped loving me. For that, I am most grateful. Many of my gay brothers and sisters in the South are not so lucky.
So for them, and the countless others, we say, it gets better. It gets better because we love you. We believe in you, in your inherent goodness, in your perfection, in your fabulous gayness.
We’re out, we’re visible, we’re living our dreams. We’re here to help. We’re here to support.
We are your Role Models.
So hang in there because indeed, IT GETS BETTER.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Just say NO to fear
I’m amazed at how much easier it’s becoming to do that these days. It’s like working out a new muscle, or working it in a different way. At first it’s painful, uncomfortable and you feel sore all the time. But eventually muscle memory sets in and the movement, or the work, seems effortless. There is hardly any discomfort at all. So much that you can barely remember what it felt like before you started working out.
Well, that seems to be perfectly analogous to the way I’ve chosen to live my life the past year and a half. Who knew how transformative losing my job and heading to India would be. And the transformation just keeps on going and going and going.
I must confess, oftentimes I feel like I’m playing out of my league. Constantly, it seems, embarking on new adventures that challenge my status quo. Accepting invitations to do things I’ve never done before. Trying to adapt to that lump in my throat or that tightness in my chest. Feeling self conscious about not being an expert in something, in anything really at this point. I’m swimming in a sea of uncertainty and I keep wanting to go back to the shallow end where it feels familiar and safe. But something keeps driving me to keeping playing in the deep end. To keep working those new muscles, and building my strength. To just keep saying yes to everything right now, and see just how expansive this brave new world can be.
Whew, OK take a deep breath and keep going. Eventually, I’m hoping, I will feel more relaxed and more accomplished in something. But then again, maybe my journey right now is to let go of needing to have that feeling. It has a way of keeping me humble that’s for sure. Not to mention motivated. Being new at anything requires much more effort and a lot more preparation.
The latest first for me was last week at Kirtan Camp. There were 60 of us in daily workshops with the Master, Jai Uttal, learning about the devotional yoga of leading sing and response chanting. I loved every minute of it. Mostly just getting to chant with Jai everyday. That in itself is heaven. But then actually leading a 10-minute session on my new harmonium with Jai in the audience was well…surreal. Yeah, that tightness was in my chest before I went on stage. But I realized once I started my favorite chant to Krishna, it was more a tightness of excitement rather than nerves. WOW, how amazing was that to realize!
I’ve been leading a few small kirtan groups over the past few months, but this took it to a new level. I think, well I know actually, that mantras are quite powerful. To sing them, to chant them, to repeat them over and over has a profound impact on the mind. It leaves an indelible imprint on the heart, and basically causes spiritual cardiomegaly (abnormally large heart size).
So, with this latest exercise routine of building the just say no to fear muscle, I do feel stronger and a bit more relaxed. Good thing, I just accepted an offer to lead meditation and kirtan at a workshop in Beverly Hills on Saturday.
Back to the Gym.
Well, that seems to be perfectly analogous to the way I’ve chosen to live my life the past year and a half. Who knew how transformative losing my job and heading to India would be. And the transformation just keeps on going and going and going.
I must confess, oftentimes I feel like I’m playing out of my league. Constantly, it seems, embarking on new adventures that challenge my status quo. Accepting invitations to do things I’ve never done before. Trying to adapt to that lump in my throat or that tightness in my chest. Feeling self conscious about not being an expert in something, in anything really at this point. I’m swimming in a sea of uncertainty and I keep wanting to go back to the shallow end where it feels familiar and safe. But something keeps driving me to keeping playing in the deep end. To keep working those new muscles, and building my strength. To just keep saying yes to everything right now, and see just how expansive this brave new world can be.
Whew, OK take a deep breath and keep going. Eventually, I’m hoping, I will feel more relaxed and more accomplished in something. But then again, maybe my journey right now is to let go of needing to have that feeling. It has a way of keeping me humble that’s for sure. Not to mention motivated. Being new at anything requires much more effort and a lot more preparation.
The latest first for me was last week at Kirtan Camp. There were 60 of us in daily workshops with the Master, Jai Uttal, learning about the devotional yoga of leading sing and response chanting. I loved every minute of it. Mostly just getting to chant with Jai everyday. That in itself is heaven. But then actually leading a 10-minute session on my new harmonium with Jai in the audience was well…surreal. Yeah, that tightness was in my chest before I went on stage. But I realized once I started my favorite chant to Krishna, it was more a tightness of excitement rather than nerves. WOW, how amazing was that to realize!
I’ve been leading a few small kirtan groups over the past few months, but this took it to a new level. I think, well I know actually, that mantras are quite powerful. To sing them, to chant them, to repeat them over and over has a profound impact on the mind. It leaves an indelible imprint on the heart, and basically causes spiritual cardiomegaly (abnormally large heart size).
So, with this latest exercise routine of building the just say no to fear muscle, I do feel stronger and a bit more relaxed. Good thing, I just accepted an offer to lead meditation and kirtan at a workshop in Beverly Hills on Saturday.
Back to the Gym.
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