—TION

First of all, I understand the link from Friday's post didn't work. It must be seen. Here it is:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SXh7JR9oKVE.

It brings tears to my eyes every time I watch (or even listen to) it. It might have to be included on the "sure to cheer me up" list of listening. (Largely Aretha Franklin at this moment.)

Does that joyful singing take you out of the moment or more solidly in it?

At any rate, back to my current musings about the writing and the yoga ... intention, attention, retention?

My first purpose was to examine and  practice the disciplines. (Intention)

Second, practice everyday or often enough so that it is as common and natural as cat-petting and pizza-making, something I do with verve, joy, wisdom, and focus. (Attention.)

Third, that the experience, knowledge, and grace I gain from practice infuses and guides other aspects of my life. (Retention.)

Writing is becoming more of a conscious and unconscious part of my brain. Still not doing the physical part of yoga. But I think I am working on the spiritual part.

And so to bed (after a little more Aretha).

WHO'S ZOOMIN' WHO?

It would certainly be easy to fall off of the "writing wagon" about now. (The "yoga wagon" has a broken axle ;-)) This is not to say that I don't think about it, but even trying to write every day takes lots of intention for me. And for the past twenty days or so, I have managed to let my fingers do some talkin' every day.

I did have a really nice holiday weekend. I didn't see any of my "blood" family, but I certainly saw lots of my soul's family and was in touch with a few more. As previously reported in these pages, the cooking I did was both satisfying and delicious. Tim and I are going to have to write up our maple/bourbon brined and glazed turkey with bacon. My instincts were with me on the cooking improv this weekend. And it feels good to be accomplished. Not to mention it is so much fun to delight folks with food.

But my overall purpose, the writing and the yoga feel ... diffused? That works. Well, perhaps the intellectual/spiritual culs-de-sac are just part of the process.

On the other hand, I am listening to ... Aretha Franklin, Who's Zoomin' Who? Worth a thought about whether I am "zoomin" myself in thinking I am making any progress. Hard to keep your focus and intentions pure. Easy enough to lie to oneself.

As my old friend F. Michael Baker said about a million years ago, "As we get older, it gets easier to believe the little lies we tell ourselves." I think we were in our twenties at that point. Little did we know.

I am still questioning myself, although I am surrounded by dimmer lights, good music, and some nice Torrontes instead of bright lights and hard chairs.

STEPPING BEYOND WHAT LIES WITHIN

The soundtrack remains the same, Aretha singing I Say A Little Prayer, which is nearly a call to communion for me. I have the sense that Aretha and this song will continue to percolate through this writing.

Still perusing Hirschfield's Nine Gates, this time dipping into the chapter titled Poetry and the Mind of Indirection. Um. Yes, that would be me. I do dearly love to trip around the internet and other places of information just following a wandering path of inquiry.

"Attentiveness, and even craft, are not the same as will. Knowing and not knowing are equal parents to a poem [practicing yoga]; to learn from what lies outside the self requires stepping beyond what lies within."

I'm not yet sure about writing (my poetry is nowhere near this level of subtlety), but I do know that my yoga practice is always better, more emotionally and spiritually rewarding when I am listening to my body, and the energy of my fellow-students, and the instructions of the teacher ... and not stuck in my projection, even nano-seconds in the future, about how it will feel, how much I will be able to do, etc.

In a daily practice or discipline, it is knowing enough to be able to engage in the practice, and not knowing enough to really show up, be fresh, and get what else might be there for you. Stepping beyond your current body of knowledge and expectation.

IF NOT NOW, WHEN?

When we last left our heroine, she was floating down the frozen river on an ice floe, headed straight for the not-so-frozen falls. (Way Down East, not Perils of Pauline.)

Oh wait. That was just me having to drive down the Taconic from Albany today. And it was a lot easier than driving up on Friday night. What a little sunlight will do for you.

Being from California, and a Western girl in my head and heart, I can never get over the wonders of the East. The Berkshires! The Adirondacks! The Hudson River. Trees. Water everywhere! Trees that have leaves that really change color. Farms with cows! Deer hunting! Real colonial houses. Markers for the War for Independence. Honestly, I am still fascinated by almost every country road and apple orchard I see.

So, I did take a longer route, opting not to take the NY State Thruway. This time I managed to navigate over to Route 9 at Renssalear and head down to Hudson. And as I drove I saw lots and lots of cool buildings and monuments. I mean, who wouldn't want to tour Kinderhook and visit Martin Van Buren's home if you happened to be in the neighborhood.

And, even though I had no appointments or actual deadlines, I felt I couldn't stop. I had to keep going.

And I keep thinking "Some other time."

Some other time? "Some other time" I will probably be working and not be able to natter about the countryside contemplating blogging and listening to Aretha Franklin with the fullest measure of my finest OCD attention.

And that brought me to "If not now, when" and how much time we all spend in our bodies being somewhere else, with other people, worried about other things. And there isn't much attention or thought or consideration being paid to NOW.

Just like yoga, before you settle in, and are still thinking about what you have to do after class, why can't you actually get your palms on the floor, why are you such a wreck, how much money IS in my checking acount, etc. Instead of yummmm, that hamstring stretch is delicious. And ohmygod, getting the pressure off my lower back is heaven. And my neck is looser than it has been for weeks. And, I AM SO GLAD I AM HERE.

Um... what was it that Baba Rum Raisin said to us in the 1970s, Be Here Now. Because if not now, when?

(I did not stop to visit Martin van Buren's house, but I did stop at two of my favorite thrift stores outside of Hudson, and at the very excellent JoJo's Pizza, just before you get on the Taconic.)

ODE TO JOY.1

Something has to be done about my addiction to the black hole/rabbit hole that is the computer/internet. Once I turn it on, who knows what will follow.


I've started, by way of diversion, to stop at the stereo on my stumble toward coffee. This rather helps tear me away from the tyranny of the screen (oh, go ahead and blame the inanimate). Yesterday, it began and ended with Peter Gabriel's Secret World Live (mostly disc 2 and n.b. that most of the reviews I have seen GREATLY underrate the musicianship).


Today, it was Aretha Franklin.


Where are all of you? Do you know realize the magnitude of this talent? Come over. I'll school you. There's a moment, actually 2:30 in her recording of I Say A Little Prayer (this isn't that version. I understand that someone else had a hit with this song, but once you hear Aretha's version, you'll know who owns it) that is an/the essence of transcendence.


Let's talk transcendence.

tran·scen·dent

 adj \-dənt\

Definition of TRANSCENDENT

1

a : exceeding usual limits : surpassingb : extending or lying beyond the limits of ordinary experiencec in Kantian philosophy : being beyond the limits of all possible experience and knowledge

2

: being beyond comprehension

3

: transcending the universe or material existence — compare immanent 2

I'm with Kant here. Aretha's voice, her joy, her command of her voice, her piano, that band all combine to take my being away from the mundane experience of my life.  And shit, it feels so good. Nirvana. (A place or state characterized by freedom from or oblivionto pain, worry, and the external world.) When Aretha sings that note, that's where I am.

I am at Home with her. (I wonder if Aretha practices yoga.)


More on this.