KARMA YOGA

The other day, I was feeling pressured to "get all of the things/tasks done before I had to leave the house.  My spouse has been somewhat under the weather, so that added to my list.  I could feel me "gripping" in my body.  Thinking that would not do, plus it wasn't any fun, I decided to practice "Karma yoga."  Everything I did, and was going to do, was in service--to my spouse, to others, to humanity.  What a lovely switch I experienced!  Peaceful, even joyful.  Every time I felt myself tightening, I just remembered to breathe and that I was doing karma yoga.  My tasks were accomplished easily and peacefully.

Trust

I've been thinking about ways to deal with unpleasant things in my life.  Just naming them "unpleasant" reveals my attachments to not wanting them at all.  Some of my Parkinson's symptoms are very unpleasant and even painful and do affect my life.  Luckily, they seem to come and go.  Lately, we've also had some real worries about certain family members, fearing for them.

Turning to my yogic philosophy--everything is good and perfect--which is not always easy for me to  believe, I am experimenting with a new practice.  When I am confronted with pain, unpleasantness, fears and worries, I thank God.  Here's how it might go:  "Thank you God for my (specific symptom here) Parkinson's Disease.  I don't know what good will come from it, but I thank you; I trust you God."  Or, "Thank you God for (name here) problems (state specific problems).  I don't know what good will come from it for (that person), but I thank you and I trust you God."

Whatever concerns me doesn't go away, but I am lifted and eased in a small way, and more open to what is.

"HEART-BURN"

While meditating, I experienced heartburn.  "Heart burn" is an apt name, as it was at my heart center.  As I breathed into it, I wondered when in my life I may have experienced pain that burned a place in my heart.  I recalled the extreme, and extremely painful, bitterness I felt in my heart after our little Karen died.  That bitterness was so hard to bear, it had such a grip on me, I couldn't let go of it.  (Or I had such a grip on it?)  Did I "burn" a hole of bitterness into my heart?  I was released from that pain--instantaneously-- through prayer.  But the effects may linger.  

I can welcome my "heart-burn" as a painful, but truthful, reminder of such a momentous time in my life.  I can feel deep compassion for me and for that wound in my heart.  It reminds me of the immense and overwhelming pain I felt, as well as the beautiful and grace-filled healing I experienced.

Now, for more grace ~

WE ARE ONE

Something like the Aurora, CO killings is so hard to talk about.  Really, what can one say?  What can one say to those who lost treasured members of their families, dear friends, or who were injured themselves?  What about those who were, and are,traumatized by this inexplainable and horrible event?

We lost a baby who lived for 2 weeks, and that was so hard to bear at the time.  Now I think of her birth and death in a totally different light, but I couldn't do that then.  

Yet I am comforted by remembering that we are all one--EVERYTHING is God/Supreme Consciousness.  The image that mosts comforts me is the one of the vast ocean--water as far as one can see and as deep as one can imagine.  We are drops of water, and when we fall into that ocean, we merge completely, our individuality disappears, and we are one with all that is holy.  

May those who are suffering from this horrible event, eventually find comfort in family and friends, and

faith in remembering their loved ones live on in the oneness of all, as we are part of that same oneness.  

Blessings and Love.

Flash

As I was meditating yesterday morning, my mouth and toe were moving slightly and involuntarily due to Parkinson's.  Then deep in my heart I had a flash--I am God, and I am Love, no matter what is happening on the outside.  I have "known" this for a long time, but in this moment I experienced it!

"Ahhhhhh"

"Take a deep and full breath and say Ahhhhh as loud and as long as you can."  (From a speech therapist)

Yesterday I participated in an all-day evaluation for Parkinson's disease at the Struthers Parkinson Disease Center in Golden Valley, MN.  It was  immensely informative, overwhelming, and a long day.  I saw a neurologist, OT, PT, speech therapist, social worker, and nurse.

In Parkinson's, there is no longer enough dopamine in the brain to send messages to the muscles so they can do what they're supposed to do.  This causes restriction, and  movements are smaller.  The disease is incurable and progressive, and one's individual journey is unknown.  But there are lots of things one can keep doing to try and stay as mobile and healthy as long as possible, including making Big movements and Big sounds.
 
It is easy to live in fear.  I just read a wonderful book, "Chants of a Lifetime" by Krishna Das, who has been called, "the chant master of American yoga."  I was moved by many things he said, as he described his not-so-easy journey into more ease and surrender.  "...to be submersed in the Loving Presence is called surrender...it happens as we ripen in love...a place free from fear or expectation." (p. 170)  We don't need to hold on to love, because love is everywhere--within and without--we are that love.

Can I remember these simple, but profound truths as I journey on?

Farewell to Yogiraj Achala, Spiritual Teacher

This is a picture of Yogiraj Achala (nee Charles Bates), who left his body unexpectedly on June 18th, 2012.  He was a spiritual teacher in the Hatha Yoga tradition, to me and to many, many others--some who had studied devotedly with him for over 30 years.  Yogiraj had studied with Swami Rama, who brought Hatha Yoga to the West from India.  I had the lovely privilege of being a student of Yogiraj's, attending workshops at the Yoga North Duluth studio, as well as a couple of silence retreats.  Yogiraj was a brilliant man, who explored and expanded for our western minds the concepts of Hatha yoga.  He taught me so much about yogic philosophy and about meditation.  His presence for me was as an amazing spiritual teacher, and a gentle man, who provided a crucible for my growth.

I had the amazing good fortune to attend the ancient Vedic ritual that proceeded his cremation this Saturday in Minneapolis, MN.  The Vedic priest chanted and guided us as Yogiraj's sons covered him with herbs, and ghee, and incense, and fragrant woods, and I'm not sure what else, preparing his body for cremation.  He invited us all to use this moment to forgive Yogiraj, or for us to forgive ourselves, and let it all go, so that we were free to let Yogiraj go, and Yogiraj was free to speed to his next and "joyous" transition.  When these offerings were complete, insuring that Yogiraj had everything he needed (and acknowledging that he loved good food), the priest instructed us in our chants as his sons opened the door to the crematorium and his coffin was guided into the fires.

Later in the afternoon, we attended his memorial service--a service of many colors and many faiths (including a Tibetan monk, an Imam, a Jewish man, the Vedic priest, Christian evangelicals).  There were many speakers, family and others, sharing their love and connection with Yogiraj.  Many members of his amazing family, sang and played instruments.  It was a wondrous occasion.  Vv, his wife, was so loving and gracious, and even nurturing to all who were there.

We adjourned to enjoy the amazingly delicious vegan food in the fellowship of the church, The First Unitarian Universalist Church.  It was a long and momentous day.

I thank you Yogiraj for being my beautiful teacher.  The first time I met you, was the first time I meditated when my mind never wandered from my mantra--not even once.  I know that was because of your amazing ability to hold the space.  I look forward to meeting you in a new way in my life and meditations.  All my love to you, Yogiraj.

(The picture above was the one on his memorial service bulletin.