Eddie Stern on the goal of spiritual practice

I joked once to Tim Miller that my most flexible muscle is my brain. I'm sure it must have come after he directed another shake of the head toward me and followed it with a "still stiff" in the Indian accent he puts on when he's about to hurt your feelings, but wants to do so gently.

When you see me at the Confluence, you'll know what I, and he, mean.

But my joke isn't entirely facetious. I'm pretty sure my brain is my most flexible muscle; sadly, Ashtanga only is 1% theory, but it is a 1% I try to give at least 4% of my time to as part of my practice.

And it is why I'm as excited by the afternoon talks at the Confluence as I am the morning practice sessions.

Initially, I'll admit to being most excited about hearing Richard Freeman. I read his latest book, "The Mirror of Yoga," earlier this year, and I found much in it to absorb and contemplate. (Ala Bobbie's review of "The Ramayana," I'll do something more complete on it at some point.) I have a suspicion I might really take to his perspective on the practice and on yoga in America.

But since the Confluence announcement, I've also being paying more attention to Eddie Stern, who may represent the great unknown for me when it comes to the five teachers.

What did I know about him? Well, the usual "rumors": he's super strict and super traditional, in that New York way. And before any New Yorkers/East Coasters jump on me, you know you think we're all laid back and too free with things out here in California. I also know he's embraced Hindu practices. But, really, that's about it. (In the past few weeks, I've gotten more information from a local source, who I'll keep anonymous. But it sounds like Eddie is a great teacher, which is no surprise.)

His blog at the Ashtanga Yoga New York site is great, and it is certainly making me more interested in hearing what he has to say about the 1% theory of Ashtanga. His latest, built around a puja for Guruji's birthday, includes these wonderful words:

The goal of spiritual practice is to awaken inner happiness, happiness that is not caused by the fleeting, changing objects of the world, but is the uncaused happiness of the Self. Purnima refers to the full moon, when the moon is complete and reflects the full light of the sun. In the Hindu tradition the moon is the mind, and the sun is the heart – so when our mind completely reflects the inner happiness of the heart, it is said to be full. The yoga master Krishan Verma spoke this past Friday on this idea, remarking that the Guru is said to be the one to awaken this fullness, hence the special name Guru Purnima – what is fullness, he asked? Happiness. Where does this happiness come from? Devotion to the Guru. The Guru can be a person, but in essence is a principle, called Guru Tattva. The principle of the Guru is the light of knowledge – a light like the sun – which is shining in the heart of each and everyone of us. We can access that principle, and have our own experience of it. But while it is true that the Guru is within us, the need for an outer guide should never be discounted, one who can point us in the right direction – and especially in the cases where this principle shines forth brilliantly, and the vessel has become the embodiment of the principle.

Now, I'll readily admit to being one of those not-so-rare Westerners who are reluctant to "surrender" to a Guru or, really, any authority figure. My embrace of Hanuman is mostly about tapping into his devotion to another.

And I'll also admit to having hesitation to what I'll broadly, and reductively, call "the new age spirituality" of yoga. I don't mean to turn anyone off by that phrase, and don't mean it pejoratively; it is more a reflection on me than yoga or Ashtanga or anyone practicing it. It places me in that grand continuum of American males, I think, who have some sort of ingrained skepticism or even hostility to anything "hippy dippy." On one end is, I don't know, Rick Santorum, maybe? On the other is probably Ram Dass.

As my practice has deepened, I've definitely moved toward Ram Dass. I'm trying to access what Tim Miller has referred to as my "gooey inside." It's not an easy task. But it is part of the practice, and it seems like it is an inescapable one after a certain point. There comes that moment when Ashtanga is either going to stay a really good workout or become something more.

That's something we've all experienced, right? It is something I'm still trying to put into words. (One of the goals of this blog.)

I'm looking forward to the Confluence, in large part, to help push me further down that path toward "something more." And I'm very interested to hear Eddie, and Richard, and find out if anything they say gives me a firm shove.

(Photo from AYNC.com.)

Note: We've moved to http://theconfluencecountdown.com/.

Confluence Homework--Suggested Readings

You might notice, looking at the schedule (or, for that matter, the Confluence website), that there’s a good deal of philosophy woven into the subject matter. The last day of the Confluence, Eddie and Tim will be discussing Patanjali’s Sutra II.44: “'Swadyaya Ishta Devata Samprayogaha' – Union with the chosen deity comes from the study of self through the sacred texts.”

Although I’ve been pouring over the Yoga Sutras for years now, it wasn’t until Tim’s Mt. Shasta retreat last year that I found a real fire for the classics of Indian literature.

Tim closes every evening session with a story, and last year he read the first few chapters of The Mahabharata, translated by Ramesh Menon. I ordered it as soon as I got home, and could not put the it down. It was better than the best epic fiction I’d ever read, beautifully paced, with glamour, love, death, and redemption. I was hooked. That led me to Menon’s sensitive and elegant translation of The Ramayana. And of The Siva Purana. Then The Bhagavata Purana. I can’t stop reading the guy.

Let me give you an example of his style:

The Demon rode in Brahma’s flashing chariot, yoked to unearthly steeds; though Rama’s bow steamed fire, Ravana was never in one place so they could find their mark. Quick as wishes, his chariot bore the Lord of evil over land and though the air.

That’s some breathless prose! Steaming fire: a fantastic and impossible image, perfect for Rama's bow!

There are many virtues to Menon’s method of translating, but the best part is its ease of reading. Menon subtitled The Mahabharata, “a modern rendering.” “Rendering” a great word for it—boiling it down to its essential elements. The Ramayana he subtitles, “a modern retelling.” Menon knows how to bring the action alive, as in this excerpt, while still keeping its symbolic meaning (which he leaves to the reader to discover). He keeps the ancient and epic flavor without alienating a contemporary reader.

His renditions of the important figures of each epic are sympathetic and also awesome. Rama is brave, but sorrow-struck. Hanuman’s devotion develops over time, and his humility is touching, a model for us all: “Forgive me,” he says to Rama, “I am a monkey and my curiosity gets the better of me.” In The Mahabharata, Menon fleshes out Krishna so well, The Bhagavad Gita will come alive for you, a moving conversation between God and his disciple (it’s at the start of volume two).

The act of a translator is never easy, and Menon knows when to translate, when to leave the original alone—his meaning is clear in context (sometimes it’s a “chariot,” sometimes a “ratha,” depending on his purpose). But both the Mahabharata and Ramayana come with glossaries in the back to help the reader with the Sanskrit, as well as the huge cast of characters and deities.

Like me, you may not be able to stop with these two epics. The Confluence will begin with a puja to Ganesh. Menon has a starkly beautiful account of Ganesh’s origins in his translation of The Siva Purana that explains Ganesh’s role as the Lord of Obstacles. There’s also the two-volume Bhagavata Purana, the complete story of Vishnu (which I’m reading now). And a translation of The Devi Bhagavatam waits for me on the shelf.

If you get started now, you may be done by the time Eddie and Tim discuss "Swadyaya Ishta Devata Samprayogaha." And, boy, will you have studied the ancient texts!

Note: We've moved to http://theconfluencecountdown.com/.

Guru Purnima

Over the course of the past 24 hours, we've entered Guru Purnima, the full moon in June and July. (Some called it yesterday, some today. It is the very definition of the inconstant moon.)

I'll defer to Eddie Stern on the weighty meaning of the day:

Sri K Pattabhi Jois (Guruji) was born on the full moon day (purnima) of the month of June-July (Ashadha) in 1915. In the Hindu tradition, this day is called Guru Purnima, named so because the sage Vyaas, the compiler of the Vedas and author of the Mahabharata was born on this day. Guru Purnima is sacred to Hindus and Buddhists alike, and is the traditional day for honoring one’s Guru. It also marks the beginning of chaturmas, the four months of the rainy season when sannyasis (wandering ascetics) would halt in one location to give teachings, blessings and advice to the public before commencing their wandering again. For householders, it is a time of engaging in renewal of spiritual practice, practicing austerities (such as increased repetition of mantra), giving charity, and listening to spiritual discourses.

It is very fitting that Pattabhi Jois, who was a staunch believer in adhering to traditional practices and following the teachings of ancient lineage, was born on this auspicious day. Please join us as we celebrate his birth with sacred pujas and chanting. It is not necessary to attend the entire four hours, any time that you can come is great.

At our local shala, Omkar108, Jörgen Christiansson led a Guru Puja for Guruji that was wonderful in its simplicity. The highlight, without doubt, was Jörgen's playing a version of the invocation call and response by Guruji before the Led class.

I would definitely encourage people to pick that up as a yearly, at least, remembrance of Guruji and his gift of the practice.

Note: We've moved to http://theconfluencecountdown.com/.