When was the last time you read a book twice? I honestly don’t recall when I have, though I am sure it has occurred. Most probably, it was a business-related text of some sort.
This weekend was one that became about reading a book twice. In fact, it was my second, and third, readings of the same book. Chasing Rumi by Roger Housden, is subtitled, A Fable About Finding the Heart’s True Desire. Set in the 1950’s, it is the story of Georgiou, an Italian of Greek descent, who goes on a pilgrimage to Konya. Konya is the Turkish city in which Rumi met Shams, the city in which Shams was murdered by Rumi’s jealous students, and the city in which Rumi wrote his poetry.
In part, I am sure that it is the parallel between my own upcoming pilgrimage and that of Georgiou that drew me in so deeply. (“Georgiou would go because his heart said so, without needing the words to say why,” p. 21). I, too, do not have the words to say why I am making this trip, even now, five weeks before I leave and after many months of contrmplation and preparation. In part, I am sure, it is the words and wisdom or Rumi that whisper off the pages to me. Perhaps it is also the hope that my pilgrimage, like Georgiou’s, will reveal itself both at the destination, and upon the return. And, finally, perhaps it is that it is a fascinating fable.
There is much of Chasing Rumi that will be transcribed into my Pilgrim’s Bible in the coming weeks, and that will accompany me on the trek.
As for Harry Potter? The final book in the series was released this weekend. I have read the previous six, and will, I am sure, read this one as well. Chances are, I will only read it once.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Random (?) Thoughts
In my first entry to the blog (Beginnings), I wrote about my Pilgrim’s Bible. This week, I took a trip to Atlanta. On the way down, I worked. On the way back, I read my Pilgrim’s Bible. This is excerpts from books that I have read that have particular meaning to me. I thought that today I would share some of what resonated with me at this point in my preparations, and my life.
If you utilize obstacles properly, then they strengthen your courage, and they also give you more intelligence, more wisdom. (His Holiness, the Dalai Lama)
Each day, write a few lines in your journal that you want to mediate on during the day. (Philip Cousineau)
Once you allow your own life to flow, you have the best chance of attracting the lover you should have. (Thomas Moore)
He saved his life by never risking it, and complained that he was misunderstood. (Dag Hammarskjöld)
The unveiling of the body is also the unveiling of the soul, because the body is the soul. To allow the body to be seen in its nakedness, to say nothing of being touched and embraced, is to show the soul in all its glory and complexity. But it isn’t always easy to be so thoroughly exposed. (Thomas Moore)
It is far too common and erroneous a misperception that artists make art because they see the world differently. I think this is backwards. They see the world differently because they are artists. (Brooks Jensen)
So live, then, that you may use what has been put into your hand. (Dag Hammarskjöld)
Every day I walk myself into a state of well-being and walk away from every illness. (Kierkegaard)
Elvis (Presley) also taught me that the only lasting thing is what we do for others. (James Van Harper)
The purpose is to be in the present, and enjoy each step you make. (Tich Nhat Hanh)
If you utilize obstacles properly, then they strengthen your courage, and they also give you more intelligence, more wisdom. (His Holiness, the Dalai Lama)
Each day, write a few lines in your journal that you want to mediate on during the day. (Philip Cousineau)
Once you allow your own life to flow, you have the best chance of attracting the lover you should have. (Thomas Moore)
He saved his life by never risking it, and complained that he was misunderstood. (Dag Hammarskjöld)
The unveiling of the body is also the unveiling of the soul, because the body is the soul. To allow the body to be seen in its nakedness, to say nothing of being touched and embraced, is to show the soul in all its glory and complexity. But it isn’t always easy to be so thoroughly exposed. (Thomas Moore)
It is far too common and erroneous a misperception that artists make art because they see the world differently. I think this is backwards. They see the world differently because they are artists. (Brooks Jensen)
So live, then, that you may use what has been put into your hand. (Dag Hammarskjöld)
Every day I walk myself into a state of well-being and walk away from every illness. (Kierkegaard)
Elvis (Presley) also taught me that the only lasting thing is what we do for others. (James Van Harper)
The purpose is to be in the present, and enjoy each step you make. (Tich Nhat Hanh)
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Ouch!
“Man plans, and God (or, the gods) laugh.” My world shook with that laughter two weeks ago.
On Monday night, I was doing a photo shoot. I noticed that I was having a bit of difficulty moving around my subject, especially when attempting to kneel or sit on the floor. Tuesday when I went down the six flights of stairs to get my morning paper there was a pain in my right hip. As the week went on, the pain intensified, and began to radiate down the front of my right thigh. Wednesday night, I decided to see a chiropractor. I made the appointment on Thursday, and was in the office Friday.
The message was clear: nothing that caused spinal compression, no forward bends, no back bends, no hip rotation until I was x-rayed, and Lou (Dr. Lou Granirer, to my way of thinking the world’s best chiropractor) reviewed the films. The good news was, I could still get the x-rays taken that afternoon. The bad news, Lou was on vacation until the following Thursday. Well, I thought to myself, there goes training—both my workouts and my cardio—and most of yoga. But, I can still do savasana (corpse pose)!
It was a long six days. I continued my pranayama. I started taking the elevator. And, as the days progressed, I listened to the laughter.
Perhaps the most important lesson for me was that I could determine whether the laughter was laughing with me, or laughing at me. If worse came to worse—I could not go on the trek—and all of my preparation was solely for that purpose, then the laughter was definitely at me. As I thought about it, I realized that the gym-based part of the preparation had definitely begun solely for the purpose of conditioning myself for the Himalayas. I also realized that it had moved beyond that. I am finding great inner reward, and peace, in my improved health and conditioning. If I was able to accept the premise that perhaps this was all about improving my health and conditioning, then I, too, could laugh.
Late Thursday afternoon I was back in Lou’s office. The prognosis is positive. My pelvis is rotated, and elevated on the left; there is some compression in the lower spine. However, it is certainly treatable. I was back in the gym that evening. My cardio was on the elliptical trainer (holding off on the stairs, and the bike, for now). Mitchel was, as always, great. I had prepared him with a call, and he was prepared. We did all upper body, as we will continue to do going into the new week. I resumed my morning yoga practice on Friday (absent the pigeon for now). I was back in the yoga studio on Saturday, where I was able to do close to 75% of the poses throughout the ninety minutes of class; Mark, yesterday’s instructor, kept his eye on me to ensure that I did not push the limits! I have regular visits on the calendar with Lou. I am icing twice daily, and meditating on healing.
Understanding that I am not training for India, I signed up for another training package on Thursday night. This will take me well past the trek and into the fall. My plan is to be on the plane to Delhi in seven weeks. In the meantime, I will be listening for the laughter...
On Monday night, I was doing a photo shoot. I noticed that I was having a bit of difficulty moving around my subject, especially when attempting to kneel or sit on the floor. Tuesday when I went down the six flights of stairs to get my morning paper there was a pain in my right hip. As the week went on, the pain intensified, and began to radiate down the front of my right thigh. Wednesday night, I decided to see a chiropractor. I made the appointment on Thursday, and was in the office Friday.
The message was clear: nothing that caused spinal compression, no forward bends, no back bends, no hip rotation until I was x-rayed, and Lou (Dr. Lou Granirer, to my way of thinking the world’s best chiropractor) reviewed the films. The good news was, I could still get the x-rays taken that afternoon. The bad news, Lou was on vacation until the following Thursday. Well, I thought to myself, there goes training—both my workouts and my cardio—and most of yoga. But, I can still do savasana (corpse pose)!
It was a long six days. I continued my pranayama. I started taking the elevator. And, as the days progressed, I listened to the laughter.
Perhaps the most important lesson for me was that I could determine whether the laughter was laughing with me, or laughing at me. If worse came to worse—I could not go on the trek—and all of my preparation was solely for that purpose, then the laughter was definitely at me. As I thought about it, I realized that the gym-based part of the preparation had definitely begun solely for the purpose of conditioning myself for the Himalayas. I also realized that it had moved beyond that. I am finding great inner reward, and peace, in my improved health and conditioning. If I was able to accept the premise that perhaps this was all about improving my health and conditioning, then I, too, could laugh.
Late Thursday afternoon I was back in Lou’s office. The prognosis is positive. My pelvis is rotated, and elevated on the left; there is some compression in the lower spine. However, it is certainly treatable. I was back in the gym that evening. My cardio was on the elliptical trainer (holding off on the stairs, and the bike, for now). Mitchel was, as always, great. I had prepared him with a call, and he was prepared. We did all upper body, as we will continue to do going into the new week. I resumed my morning yoga practice on Friday (absent the pigeon for now). I was back in the yoga studio on Saturday, where I was able to do close to 75% of the poses throughout the ninety minutes of class; Mark, yesterday’s instructor, kept his eye on me to ensure that I did not push the limits! I have regular visits on the calendar with Lou. I am icing twice daily, and meditating on healing.
Understanding that I am not training for India, I signed up for another training package on Thursday night. This will take me well past the trek and into the fall. My plan is to be on the plane to Delhi in seven weeks. In the meantime, I will be listening for the laughter...
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Namaste
Namaste. A belief. A blessing. A bow. What is “Namaste?”
In Yoga Journal, Aadil Pakkhivala defines Namaste as “a gesture (that) is an acknowledgement of the soul in one by the soul of another….Namaste literally means, ‘bow me you,’ or “I bow to you.’” For me, Namaste begins with the belief that there is the divine in each person I meet. Christian traditions speak to each of us being “made in God’s image,” each of us being imbued with the divine. Other religions deliver a similar message.
Try this for one day. Each person you see—your significant other, the mail carrier, the surly clerk at the grocery check out, the road enraged driver racing past—seek the divine. You may not see it. Like so many other things, in this we are often masters of disguise, even from ourselves. But for one day, seek it in each person you encounter. Seek it in yourself as you look in the mirror. Seek it in yourself as you go through the day. Namaste.
This is a part of my yoga practice. As with other aspects of yoga, it takes practice. I am far from having perfected it. But, especially when I find myself wanting to respond to negative energy with the same, I attempt to step back. Namaste.
“To perform Namaste, we place the hands together at the heart chakra, close the eyes, and bow the head,” (Aadil Pakkhivala, Yoga Journal). What could be more honorific than to bless the soul of another through your own soul? Namaste.
I found the importance of Namaste to me in a yoga workshop. We were doing a double circle exercise. There is an inner circle and an outer, with participants matched one-to-one. We were instructed, “Look into the eyes of the person across from you. Voice to that person something that you honor in them. It may be their wisdom, their looks, their compassion; it may be the divine that is in each of us.” Then the outer circle would move one person to the left. The instructions were the same. For some, honoring the divine was easy. It was so visible, right there looking back at me. For others, the divine was not visible, so I chose something else. This bothered me. As I thought about it I realized that the less visible the divine is in another, the more important that I seek it, honor it, allow it to rise to the surface. Namaste.
Namaste. A belief, a blessing, and a bow. Namaste, a new way of seeing. Namaste.
In Yoga Journal, Aadil Pakkhivala defines Namaste as “a gesture (that) is an acknowledgement of the soul in one by the soul of another….Namaste literally means, ‘bow me you,’ or “I bow to you.’” For me, Namaste begins with the belief that there is the divine in each person I meet. Christian traditions speak to each of us being “made in God’s image,” each of us being imbued with the divine. Other religions deliver a similar message.
Try this for one day. Each person you see—your significant other, the mail carrier, the surly clerk at the grocery check out, the road enraged driver racing past—seek the divine. You may not see it. Like so many other things, in this we are often masters of disguise, even from ourselves. But for one day, seek it in each person you encounter. Seek it in yourself as you look in the mirror. Seek it in yourself as you go through the day. Namaste.
This is a part of my yoga practice. As with other aspects of yoga, it takes practice. I am far from having perfected it. But, especially when I find myself wanting to respond to negative energy with the same, I attempt to step back. Namaste.
“To perform Namaste, we place the hands together at the heart chakra, close the eyes, and bow the head,” (Aadil Pakkhivala, Yoga Journal). What could be more honorific than to bless the soul of another through your own soul? Namaste.
I found the importance of Namaste to me in a yoga workshop. We were doing a double circle exercise. There is an inner circle and an outer, with participants matched one-to-one. We were instructed, “Look into the eyes of the person across from you. Voice to that person something that you honor in them. It may be their wisdom, their looks, their compassion; it may be the divine that is in each of us.” Then the outer circle would move one person to the left. The instructions were the same. For some, honoring the divine was easy. It was so visible, right there looking back at me. For others, the divine was not visible, so I chose something else. This bothered me. As I thought about it I realized that the less visible the divine is in another, the more important that I seek it, honor it, allow it to rise to the surface. Namaste.
Namaste. A belief, a blessing, and a bow. Namaste, a new way of seeing. Namaste.
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