tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60192362889325521692024-03-23T06:14:50.372-04:00still in sirsasanapeggy honghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07448487320532658161noreply@blogger.comBlogger195125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-71381341895360680472024-01-15T12:30:00.003-05:002024-01-16T12:26:50.594-05:00Yoga for Collective Liberation: Iyengar Yoga Detroit Collective Statement on Genocide in Gaza<p> <span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Dear international beloved community of Iyengar Yoga,<br /><br />In
early October 2023, we at Iyengar Yoga Detroit Collective decided to
take a public position regarding the massive bombardment of Gaza. We
announced in our newsletter that:<br /><i>Iyengar Yoga Detroit Collective
advocates for a permanent ceasefire in Palestine, and the dissolution of
apartheid and occupation in the region.</i><br /><br />We felt clear that our statement aligned with our collective’s mission, featured on our home page:<br /></span></span></p><ul><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">We
embrace Iyengar Yoga as a practice for healing and collective
liberation, by providing high quality, affordable classes that welcome
all bodies.</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">We promote self-awareness to create a more just, discerning, and compassionate society.</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">We practice cooperative economics to align our values with the ethics of yoga.</span></span></li></ul><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Those
who have practiced yoga primarily or exclusively as āsana and prānāyāma
may feel confused about why we have chosen to speak out on a topic that
may ostensibly appear unrelated to yoga. Luckily, as Iyengar Yoga
practitioners, we have always been students of yoga philosophy and
embrace aṣtanga yoga (the eight limbs), or as BKS Iyengar preferred,
aṣtadala, the eight petals. We strive to apply these timeless teachings
to every aspect of our daily lives, and to understand them more deeply
through praxis.<br /><br />IYDC, since inception, has been a socially and
politically engaged community. We apply the framing of
microcosm/macrocosm, and believe that our actions on the yoga mat
extrapolate outward to our actions off the mat. We are also, unusual in
some Iyengar Yoga circles, a younger community, with the majority of our
students AND teachers in their 20s and 30s, although our founders are
in their 50s and 60s. We have always been a vibrant, dynamic, culturally
relevant community.<br /><br />We are also geographically located in
Hamtramck, Michigan, a heavily Arab and South Asian community, rich with
Yemenis and Bangladeshi. We are blessed with civic organizations,
families, people in leadership, mosques, temples, groceries,
restaurants, and more, reflecting our incredibly diverse community. We
are not far from Dearborn, MI, home to the largest Arab population in
the USA. <br /><br />[UPDATE: We are located in the heart of the Yemeni
community, and we are in shock and horror at the bombing of Yemen by the
USA/UK instigated on 11 January. We call for an immediate ceasefire on
the beleaguered families of our neighbors!] <br /></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />Congresswoman
Rashida Tlaib is a friend and representative for many people in IYDC’s
immediate and extended community. Many of us have Palestinian friends,
neighbors, coworkers, and colleagues. These connections to the
Palestinian and larger Arab diaspora make this particular conflict even
more relevant to our studio community. Additionally, Hamtramck is a town
in the midst of Detroit, a metropolis with one of the largest Black populations
in the USA and an illustrious, globally impacting cultural and
political landscape.<br /><br />Hamtramck is also home to many young
artists, entrepreneurs, digital nomads, and more. </span></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The Metro Detroit area is home to a thriving Jewish community and
many of our Jewish students, along with students of all faiths and
backgrounds, are calling for a permanent ceasefire.</span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> <br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">We at
IYDC recognize that the crisis in Gaza and the occupied West Bank are
but current iterations of a longstanding occupation. Some of us have
intensified our research and study of Israel/Palestine in order to
comprehend the situation more fully. Professor and historian <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8MHx8zwfw1g">Rashid Khalidi</a>
describes how the early Zionist statements were explicit in their
settler colonial mission, freely using the language of occupation and
colonialism. However, as he describes, after WWII, the practice of
settler colonialism was no longer condoned by the international
community, at which point the Zionist project began using the language
of “self-determination” to define and justify itself. Because Europeans
had committed the unspeakable brutality of the Jewish holocaust, many
felt a burning urgency to unconditionally support the creation of the
State of Israel to absolve themselves of their deplorable actions and
inactions. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">But
as every historian and scholar, from Khalidi to Israeli
Ilan Pappé to Edward Said, point out, the Zionist project required the
dislocation of the current residents of the region. Millions in the
Palestinian diaspora have lost their ancestral lands because Israel has
deprived them of the right of return, just as the First Nations/Native
Americans were stripped of their land, cultural, and spiritual
practices, and endured forced family separation and assimilation. Here
on Turtle Island, indigenous people were and continue to be killed
through disease, military and civilian violence, and policies of
displacement, forced marches, and relocation.<br /><br />Yehudi Menuhin, a
renowned humanitarian as well as stellar artist, recognized the
injustice of settler colonialism. His father, Moshe Menuhin, spoke out
against Zionism from the outset. Moshe was raised in a Zionist
settlement in Palestine before the establishment of the state of Israel.
However he chose to live in New York as an adult, when he realized the
dream of Israel required a nightmare for the Palestinians. Moshe Menuhin
<a href="https://www.wrmea.org/1996-july/like-father-like-son-a-tribute-to-moshe-and-yehudi-menuhin.html">“left Israel because he saw the Zionists were worshipping not God but their own power.”</a> Other anti-Zionist Jews of his era include Martin Buber, Hannah Arendt, and Albert Einstein.<br /><br />Yehudi
Menuhin received backlash for his outspoken humanitarian stance. Is it
coincidence that one of the first non-Indian students of Iyengar Yoga
was an anti-Zionist Jew? Clearly both Moshe and Yehudi Menuhin were
nonconformists, able to depart from dominant narratives, and recognize
deeper truths about power, violence, spirituality, and identity. Perhaps
this same search for truth helped lead Yehudi to BKS Iyengar.<br /><br />Since
the 1950s, the occupation has drastically expanded, Zionism has become
more deeply entrenched, millions more have been displaced, and more
lives lost. The resistance to the occupation has also expanded. As
nonviolent resistance attempts were met with violent suppression, the
resistance erupted in violence more frequently. IYDC does not condone
violence, in keeping with the foundational tenet of yoga, ahimsa.
However we also view ahimsa, not only as nonviolence of thought, word,
and deed, but also as disruption of violence when it arises. We
understand settler colonialism as inherently violent, wherever and
whenever it occurs. Without condoning violent resistance, we also
recognize that suppressing nonviolent resistance creates conditions for
armed resistance to increase.<br /><br />IYDC occupies unceded land of the
Three Fires Confederacy of the Ojibwe, Odawa, and Potawatomi nations.
Over the millenia, this land has been home to many nations. Many of us
have been occupiers of this land for generations. Some of our ancestors
were brought here as captives through the trans-Atlantic slave trade.
Some of our ancestors came here as a result of the Cold War and the
labor demands of global capitalism. As settlers, Turtle Island has
become our homeland, and most of us do not have access to any other
home. However, we can devote ourselves to solidarity with those who are
of the land, support land-back movements, and challenge and dismantle
oppression in all forms. We embrace Lilla Watson/Australian Aboriginal
Movement’s understanding that “If you have come here to help me you are
wasting your time, but if you have come because your liberation is bound
up with mine, then let us work together.”<br /><br />Since October, IYDC
has offered opportunities to respond to the current atrocities in
Israel/Palestine, through Grief Circles, participating in the General
Strike for Palestine, hosting letter writing and phone calling sessions, Teacher
Education discussion groups, and āsana and prānāyāma workshops (Inner
Warrior, Resting for Solidarity, Learning/Unlearning). We invite the
global Iyengar Yoga community to join us in incorporating yoga philosophy more fully
to apprehend this crisis as responsible practitioners and citizens of
the world.<br /><br />Can we recognize the kleśas that require dismantling
in order to keep learning and evolving? We are all guilty of avidya.
This is natural and inevitable because there is always so much to learn.
We all, even the sages, as they say, get trapped by abhiniveśa, fear of
death, which may prevent right action. Yama and niyama also become
frameworks to guide right action, as well as the teachings of Bhagavad
Gita.<br /><br />No doubt, all our primary texts have been used to justify
every political position. IYDC strives to understand our scriptures as a
framework for personal transformation to build collective liberation.
In this instance, we advocate for collective liberation as an end of
apartheid and occupation.<br /><br />We recognize how difficult it is to
depart from what our parents and grandparents, or the dominant culture,
have taught us. We recognize the ways trauma informs our experience of
the world and how we respond to it. We understand yoga as an embodied
practice of sovereignty and ethics, such that instead of falling victim
to our circumstances, we strive to create lives that embody our highest
values, and integrate our ethics with our actions. We hope that as a
global Iyengar Yoga community, we can be in solidarity, to heal ourselves, and cultivate well-being for all.<br /><br /><br /></span><br /></span> </p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-83092039097496596142023-11-08T11:57:00.000-05:002023-11-08T11:57:00.222-05:00Prayer for Gaza<p><a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/Cy1MZmDNB8j/">https://www.instagram.com/p/Cy1MZmDNB8j/</a> </p><p>25 Oct 2023<br /><br /><i>Be so big that sky will learn Sky.</i><br />~ Alice Coltrane<br /><br />creator god<br />god of abraham and moses<br />son of god<br />holy spirit<br />gods and goddesses of mountains and oceans<br />of trees and roots<br />rhizomatic god<br />gods and goddesses of wind and rain<br />beloved and terrifying goddess of volcanoes<br />destroyer and transformer<br />all named gods<br />and all unnamed gods<br />i call upon you<br />i wail and weep<br />across many oceans<br />i beseech you<br /><br />make me sky<br />so expansive i cover all 140 square miles of gaza<br />a blue so dense neither cloud nor missile can penetrate<br />a fearless sky <br />so massive i absorb and dissolve all vengeance<br />and transform all terror<br /><br />make me rain<br />let me wash your wounds<br />let me soak into parched earth<br />let me pour down until<br />ash and cinder become rivers<br /><br />make me wind<br />hear me wail the songs <br />of your grandmothers<br />let me stroke your skin<br />and wrap around you like a dervish<br />let me lift you and carry you to safety <br /><br />make me so big<br />that i cannot remember my own name<br />so big that my ancestors<br />become yours<br />let me hold your multitudes and mine <br /><br />make my tears an ocean<br />turn my burning rage into sails<br />for ships that merge with stars<br />make horizons blur until ocean becomes sky <br /><br />make me mountains<br />rising out of both earth and ocean<br />make me lava<br />flowing into peninsulas and islands<br />expanding continents<br />that tremble <br />shake<br />quake <br />rock<br /><br />make me an `ōhi`a lehua tree<br />growing from the hardened lava<br />let my branches spread<br />and explode into succulent foliage<br />let my red spiky blossoms<br />remind you<br />of what is possible<br /><br />make me your home<br />let me feed your family<br />knead me into bread<br />make me gushing spring water<br />let the water table <br />fill again and again<br />and again<br /><br />make me empty<br />fill me with your stories<br />i will hold your dreams and nightmares<br />i will cradle them <br />and metabolize them<br />into fuel<br />to run incubators<br />cook dinners <br />and light lanterns<br /><br />creator god<br />god of abraham and moses<br />son of god<br />holy spirit<br />gods and goddesses of mountains and oceans<br />of trees and roots<br />rhizomatic god<br />gods and goddesses of wind and rain and volcanoes<br />i call upon you<br />i beseech you<br /></p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-39984258425800060182023-11-07T02:10:00.003-05:002023-11-07T22:06:27.069-05:00Day 30<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvxkxS682VCIDQsJYO0oBTR9FRIBHbgP36-ue8lcYHJGzItrlGvlh2805XgWpCM211P9__w5c3RgqDNQiKS-8yz5JFKeA6aa8GbTNmN7tRvkVREgaTgq8h2wvFvo0CdRdulfuqCUQT0A3SqIZcWYKo7c2uajljxKSKLBEhx5WsHxXTue-6u1pzHQfgLgYQ/s3024/IMG_4344.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvxkxS682VCIDQsJYO0oBTR9FRIBHbgP36-ue8lcYHJGzItrlGvlh2805XgWpCM211P9__w5c3RgqDNQiKS-8yz5JFKeA6aa8GbTNmN7tRvkVREgaTgq8h2wvFvo0CdRdulfuqCUQT0A3SqIZcWYKo7c2uajljxKSKLBEhx5WsHxXTue-6u1pzHQfgLgYQ/s320/IMG_4344.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>The bombs continue to drop on Gaza, everyday more babies killed. Everyone is either practicing extreme distraction and busyness, or absolutely pummeled by grief and rage. If I give myself enough space and resource, I manage to channel some of that grief and rage into reflection, and gestures toward healing deep intergenerational wounds.<br /></p><p>Born in 1963, I grew up steeped in systemic racism. Whether I was in Korea, Hawai`i, or New York, it was ever present. Of course I did not recognize it, nor could I name it. My immigrant parents, seeking better lives for themselves and their children, not once pointed it out. Nevertheless it permeated all institutions around me and like everyone else around me, I internalized it without realizing it.<br /><br />It took me decades to see it, and learn the larger histories of coloniality and the intersecting issues of sexism, classism, ableism, and more. Then I had to go through the process of denial, confusion, rage, and finally uproot my internalized racist. Can I claim to have dismantled it completely? It’s hard to demonstrate my “correctness” when all around me coloniality still rages on, and while my subsistence entails stolen land, destructive mining in Congo, and climate disaster. But I have only just turned 60 years old, I have 3 grandchildren, and I dare not give up!</p><p>I moved to Detroit, Michigan in 2013, to take my radicalism to the next level. At that point, Detroiters were resisting a huge corporate takeover. Key neighborhoods were targeted for extreme gentrification geared toward attracting white folks with money, and displacing the generations of Black families that had been fiercely holding it down, through the rebellions, crack epidemic, foreclosure crises, and much more. Meanwhile, Detroit residents were being deprived of basic services and maintenance, including street lights, water, infrastructure updates, and even security. Sound familiar? Many were living almost like refugees in their own city, in their own nation.<br /><br />When I moved into the near east side of Detroit, not only did I have to overcome the racism and anti-Blackness I had unconsciously internalized, my neighbors had to come to terms with me. Who the fuck is this “Chinese lady”? What does she want? It took months and years to build relations, friendships, and trust. I had to repeatedly demonstrate my solidarity, and prove I wasn’t a gentrifier coming to displace anyone. I had to talk to neighbors, go to block club meetings, teach free yoga classes, host potlucks, and more. My roommates and I would drive into the suburbs on Sundays to go dumpster diving at Trader Joe’s and bring back discarded flower bouquets, along with a ton of still-good food to share with neighbors. Some of my neighbors started to refer to me as the flower lady because I would bring them bouquets.<br /><br />Meanwhile I’m writing this on Day 30 of the 2023 War on Gaza. More than 10,000 Gazans have been killed by bombs, and nearly half are children. 30,000 tons of explosives have been dropped, more than the atomic bombing of Hiroshima. While global citizens are pouring out in droves into the streets to demand an immediate ceasefire, the USA and Israeli governments have yet to comply. I’ve been posting on social media daily, and have my share of detractors insisting that the bombing, is in fact, the only response possible, and that if thousands of innocent civilians are dying, Hamas is to blame.<br /><br />Those insisting that the bombing and killing must continue are speaking from trauma, as survivors, personally and intergenerationally. Some feel absolutely certain that Israelis will be decimated if Hamas is not destroyed, no matter how many others must die. There is no reasoning when someone is in this traumatized place; it’s not neurologically possible. If this trauma, along with grief and rage, remain untended for decades, it becomes culture, and the possibilities for healing seem ever more distant.<br /><br />In the midst of this devastation, I discovered a small gem of a podcast: “Disillusioned,” by Israeli Yahav Erez. Erez interviews Israeli Jews who have somehow come to reject Zionism. Each intimate conversation delves into their upbringing, life events, and the transformation of their consciousness over years. Each story is a story of decolonization, shedding former beliefs and structures, and striving to create new stories of healing and equity.<br /><br />What is the incentive for those with land to give up or change anything? All my life I had lived pretty much in middle class comfort. Why would I give even a shred of that up? My parents had sacrificed so much to provide that security and safety for us kids. <br /><br />But it turns out my middle class life was not true security or safety, just as life in Israel is not safe. Disparity foments violence. It’s inevitable. And apartheid is the most extreme form of government-sanctioned disparity. At some point the pressure cooker will explode. <br /><br />One Israeli Jew on “Disillusioned” described growing up in a settlement in East Jerusalem where, literally 15 meters away, her Palestinian neighbors led lives completely segregated from her. They lacked municipal services like garbage disposal, and resorted to burning their trash. Similarly, it’s been shocking for me to see stylish, colorful Tel Aviv on the news, in contrast to the crowded concentration camps of Gaza, now crumbled to gray ash and rubble.<br /><br />One person on the Disillusioned podcast describes how he wanted to meet Palestinians, and build friendships and solidarity, but was frustrated to find there were no avenues to do so. Finally he realized he had to overcome his internalized fear of the Palestinian West Bank, that he had grown up with, to venture forth on his own. He describes his journey of shedding his identity, learning to be vulnerable, and realizing “If I wanted to truly meet people in an honest way, I had to shed fears I had.” He noticed that “when fears disappear, the wounds start to heal.”<br /><br />This is where most of us are stuck. We cling to our identities, and surround ourselves with those like us, out of fear. Some of it may feel quite justified, and borne of generations of harm. And yet, can we open ourselves to what is possible? Otherwise, how will the wounds heal?<br /><br />The Palestinians I know only want equal rights. “From the river to the sea” is not a slogan for the extermination of Jews, but rather for the opportunity to live side by side with everyone, with no check points, no apartheid, and freedom of movement throughout the one-state region. Israeli apartheid is all too reminiscent of Jim Crow laws, which followed slavery in the USA,
out of fear that Black folks would vengefully decimate the white
population. But it never happened, because Black folks just wanted to be
free, to have equal rights.</p><p>Can we hold space for one another to air out the wounds? Can we lovingly tend them and cleanse them? Can we fathom the possibility of healing? I'd like to close with the most potent message I've seen today:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVmbW49VevUVzNER70BPtS3bly_jKpUBhRd0wZFNuDbXW-mrxJFDejH0XqvqVdanB9FCprnAAvooPKodyeuJkiT982MIvdsc6qRE81ZlBevmmyloGHwoIbR45gYTj9Do_2wEfonC7e6Bkbn_mTTBzbR6SP9AoEnGjf1ZCB2nLjcF4sLWy7TwikBVGro4wm/s1162/Screenshot%202023-11-07%20at%204.30.35%20PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="980" data-original-width="1162" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVmbW49VevUVzNER70BPtS3bly_jKpUBhRd0wZFNuDbXW-mrxJFDejH0XqvqVdanB9FCprnAAvooPKodyeuJkiT982MIvdsc6qRE81ZlBevmmyloGHwoIbR45gYTj9Do_2wEfonC7e6Bkbn_mTTBzbR6SP9AoEnGjf1ZCB2nLjcF4sLWy7TwikBVGro4wm/w400-h338/Screenshot%202023-11-07%20at%204.30.35%20PM.png" width="400" /></a></div><p>We can be strong and tender. We can be fierce and compassionate. We can be unwavering in our support for those suffering most, while holding space for each of us to heal our trauma. All of us heal, or none of us heal. Liberation cannot come at the expense of another. We must free each other, from the river to the sea. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ts00NPBCIkRzq8MKdB-VLrP3OeNSJnJ3QFgn9qhrC7dsBnIag4fbJbmwbo4UDLyfVthTlNJ3_MoEqLlmNJq2BALElW8-kWIMqsJ7Fsz283fkTBYkaIdI65nI8BImwjf5YIjImKHOr9z4rWy9AFpI9OzEIEOA5GZjpcPFRhNau4kb0iARnvSBbVySq735/s3024/IMG_4331.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ts00NPBCIkRzq8MKdB-VLrP3OeNSJnJ3QFgn9qhrC7dsBnIag4fbJbmwbo4UDLyfVthTlNJ3_MoEqLlmNJq2BALElW8-kWIMqsJ7Fsz283fkTBYkaIdI65nI8BImwjf5YIjImKHOr9z4rWy9AFpI9OzEIEOA5GZjpcPFRhNau4kb0iARnvSBbVySq735/w200-h200/IMG_4331.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p><br /></p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-89776590888963119712023-11-07T00:22:00.000-05:002023-11-07T00:22:50.786-05:00Turning 60, October 31, 2023<p><span style="font-size: medium;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimEPVQoXe0AtuybcNdfA9zrE7adw03XQkxGtzzNZGytqvQcr-K_wmntwvGdRLFA5c7eNpj_YTgW2ruDUZU2GFFynqW8Hfvg4lW5qydxxfd2kQ4oeQdRE6P4IZWhxE3Z5NlvbMfu5YzwmUu68cCJYEIICohjditT4AA4Qn2FrwVigJP0VkQQgAEyxqfyP8R/s3088/IMG_4323.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2320" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimEPVQoXe0AtuybcNdfA9zrE7adw03XQkxGtzzNZGytqvQcr-K_wmntwvGdRLFA5c7eNpj_YTgW2ruDUZU2GFFynqW8Hfvg4lW5qydxxfd2kQ4oeQdRE6P4IZWhxE3Z5NlvbMfu5YzwmUu68cCJYEIICohjditT4AA4Qn2FrwVigJP0VkQQgAEyxqfyP8R/s320/IMG_4323.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My CEASEFIRE! Halloween costume<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">much love and thanks for all the birthday blessings. i feel so grateful to have made it to 60 years, and perhaps i will have a few more decades to devote to this lifetime's journey. if i do, wonderful. if i don't, that is also fine. my embodiment is not what defines me. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">as usual, in past weeks, my first morning thought was not my birthday, but those unable to celebrate who are suffering in war. if we're lucky, we will grow more sensitive and aware as we age. we will be willing to be more vulnerable, and release our defenses. hopefully this makes us more present, more wise, more grounded, and more fierce. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">for the remainder of my time on earth, i hope to put myself to maximum use for the common good. i feel i am reaching my highest potential in my profession as an iyengar yoga practitioner and teacher. it's a very long journey and i still have so much to learn, but i feel i can access the wisdom of the practice, and share it with others, more so than ever before. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">i continue to decolonize myself. i am a humble student and steward of the `āina and all the beings of these islands, from the plants to the people to the deities. i continue to learn about my own ancestry and history and culture. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">i am a servant of my 3 grandchildren, and they teach me how to be more playful, more creative, more resilient, more compassionate, and how to be a strong, reliable anchor and co-regulator. i am a student of my 3 children, who have always been my teachers, who continue to challenge me and who will exceed me in all ways. all the learning and growth is through unconditional love and acceptance, which i never, even for one breath, take for granted. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">the genocide in gaza brings me to my knees. i am in constant prayer. i am flashing back to the wars in iraq and afghanistan which i tried with all my might to stop. even more recently, my heart continues to break for yemen. further back, i'm sure my dna is awakened by all the earlier wars, including the unspeakably brutal proxy war fought on the korean peninsula in the early 1950s. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">i'm ready to put my body on the line to protect the most vulnerable. this is the first time in my life i have not been a full-time caregiver, with someone to come home to, to feed and care for. it's a wonderful feeling to know you have nothing to lose. career? those who resonate with me will support me, and the others can go. wealth? i've already given it up. it's long gone, and yet here i am, still breathing and eating. reputation? whatever. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">may i speak truth to power. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">may i continue to learn and evolve. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">may i stand strong with a soft belly and open heart. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">here is a quote that shook me to the core that i will close with: </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">"Conflict: an opportunity for intimacy. An eruption of energy characterized by a deep feeling of hurt, resentment, loss, fear, and a challenge to one’s self-esteem. It is usually also characterized by the appearance of surface issues and demands that can be argued about, so that the deeper feelings won’t have to be felt. Conflict, when handled appropriately, can be a catalyst for increased awareness of ourselves and our connections to one another. It can be the crack in the hard shell of our persona, that allows us to begin a journey to the center of ourselves."
~ Warriors of the Heart, Danaan Parry </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">may the hard shells of our personae crack open over and over and over again. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">mahalo nui loa, </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">peggy gwi-seok hong</span></p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-58526584183328886502023-05-09T23:21:00.002-04:002023-05-09T23:21:50.588-04:00The Collective Nervous System in the Wake of Tragedy<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzVWV_EDuKINCk4KM8XgmZv4N0FP0CE1ynDeylVOo1DyuBLE2zCxLd3DnCZKJwuU8DnI4IijDbPnlP_D87X_P0rKzl1U66zEtDML9tyHg_lT-dye2wTSdnhLMAVLjmCcCzNuPIEqZZy7zNnu5HS6lPcrXzsB34qQg2l7K2YqsIdyTpPqMQT_ySQl_eGQ/s762/Screenshot%202023-05-09%20at%202.54.42%20PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="762" data-original-width="754" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzVWV_EDuKINCk4KM8XgmZv4N0FP0CE1ynDeylVOo1DyuBLE2zCxLd3DnCZKJwuU8DnI4IijDbPnlP_D87X_P0rKzl1U66zEtDML9tyHg_lT-dye2wTSdnhLMAVLjmCcCzNuPIEqZZy7zNnu5HS6lPcrXzsB34qQg2l7K2YqsIdyTpPqMQT_ySQl_eGQ/w317-h320/Screenshot%202023-05-09%20at%202.54.42%20PM.png" title="Cindy, William, James, and Kyu Cho" width="317" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cindy, William, James, and Kyu Cho<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p>I don't know about you, but I feel as though I've been thrown off a cliff. I cannot take anymore. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop.</p><p>But we cannot seem to make it stop. We can speak out. We can refuse to accept business as usual. We can call legislators until we're hoarse. And yet.... sure as the sun comes up, we hear of another mass shooting on the news, then another, then another.<br /></p><p>We are knit together by a collective nervous system. It operates like a <span class=" fc-falcon">mycorrhizal network</span> we cannot see. We sense and feel each other and the life around us. We shape and influence each other through our finely tuned limbic systems. If we slow down enough to really pay attention, we can sense imminent danger, and we can also sense safety. We all have the capacity to read the energy in a room, or a city, or a gathering of any sort, and respond accordingly. We recognize the collective nervous system when we tap into interpersonal, cultural, ancestral, and intergenerational joys and traumas. It might be a sports event, or an artistic performance, or a national tragedy. Social media is one way that the collective nervous system shows up.</p><p>Because we belong to collectives, when I pull a string, others will feel the tug. If someone else creates a wave, it will ripple outward. That is, we all have the capacity to affect the collective nervous system, whether it's to agitate and activate, or whether it's to quiet and pacify.<br /></p><p>As such, there is nothing more important in this moment, in the wake of tragedy, than to slow down, and tune into our own somatic state. I'm a student of <a href="https://www.resmaa.com/">Resmaa Menakem</a>, who offers the framework of "VIMBASI":</p><p>V: What is the vibe you are experiencing?</p><p>I: What images come to mind?</p><p>M: What meaning arises?</p><p>B: What behavior and urges are elicited?</p><p>A: How does this affect you?</p><p>S: What sensations do you feel in your body?</p><p>I: What do you imagine is possible?</p><p>Sit down, observe, and process. This is how we metabolize our experiences, and especially our traumas. The more I override my traumas, big and small, the more I get caught in loops that prolong the trauma. </p><p>In fact, suppressing my response does nothing but make me ill. My stomach churns, I lose my appetite, or I seek sugary, fatty, or salty foods in response to elevated cortisol. My breath shortens, my airways inflame, weakening my immune response. If I seek to break the cycle, I have to slow down and process what is happening.<br /></p><p>As Iyengar Yoga practitioners, let's metabolize the events of the day. Let's settle our nervous systems, not by spiritual bypassing, overriding, numbing out, or ignoring, but by becoming more aware, by feeling more, by sensitizing ourselves without judgment or conclusion. It's not about resolving or repairing, not just yet. First we have to calm the f*k down. Feel what we feel. Give others a chance to settle their nerves and to self-observe. In this way, the collective nervous system gets a chance to re-set. </p><p>In the wake of tragedy, this response may be mistaken for "doing nothing." Similarly, it's easy to ignore the mycorrhizal network underground. How do we even know it's there? Scientists call it the circulatory system of the planet. So I have to trust that when I am able to settle myself, it will impact the collective nervous system, the above-ground rhizomatic network of humans. Your family will appreciate it and respond in kind, as well as your neighbors, and everyone else you come into contact with. <br /></p><p>From here, we can create shifts, from a red alert trauma state to a calmer state where we are not acting impulsively nor defensively, but with clarity of mind. Consciousness evolves, and what was not possible a year ago, can become feasible now. Strong, decisive, effective action can emerge. This is what we can offer our communities in this moment as Iyengar Yoga practitioners. </p><p>Here is a simple sequence that may facilitate this process:</p><p>Salamba Śavasāna on bolster, Ujjayi II</p><p>Supta Baddha Koṇāsana on bolster</p><p>Supta Vīrāsana on bolster <br /></p><p>Adho Mukha Vīrāsana on bolster</p><p>Rope Śirṣāsana</p><p>Chair Dwipāda Viparita Daṇḍāsana</p><p>Chair Sarvangāsana</p><p>Śavāsana <br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-55728726897646893632022-10-23T16:51:00.002-04:002022-10-25T04:11:30.552-04:00Let's Talk About MONEY!<p>At many gatherings in the USA, you might find yourself engaging in casual conversation with folks about politics, sex, substance use, religion, and more. But beyond all that potential TMI, folks rarely talk about how much money they make or have.</p><p>We've been trained to be secretive about money. In fact, it may be the most secretive part of your life. If you have a lot of it, you're probably very private about just how much you have, in order to protect your wealth, and maybe because you don't necessarily want people to know how you acquired it. If you only have a little money, you're probably very private about it because you've been taught to be ashamed of being monetarily poor, like it's a moral failing.</p><p>Capitalism in fact relies on this secrecy. If we have lots of money, capitalism has trained us to hoard it and hide it, and devote ourselves to expanding our monetary wealth. Folks like Donald Trump base their power on a mystique of wealth, while never actually revealing their net worth, or exaggerating it to make themselves seem more powerful and influential. Conspicuous consumption is practiced by folks of all income levels as a pretense of wealth, like the way we're taught to stand tall and raise our arms when we encounter a bear in the wild, to appear larger and more powerful than we actually are.<br /></p><p>One of the results of the secrecy around money is that the wealth gap becomes ever larger. The wealthy find ever more ways to extract money, find tax loopholes, and monetize the hell out of everything, including air, water, and health itself. The poor become even more marginalized as prices continually rise, education becomes less and less accessible, and wages stagnate. One of the ways we can shrink the wealth gap is by breaking the taboo of silence over money with open bookkeeping, for businesses and organizations, and by talking openly about money with friends, family, and others we interact with.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgVZvGKZAzCInvjeXDwo1ssSYLE5O615FkiOEgg8d1MVWVUgMp_ytzHHqqgDNEu0LF_c8WPNkAdLcGKrVrhPoVen-qXqDdqzQzgHS1faLdYLzw5KHM72JzITNoqqLpg6YmFeo4EVHIBR1fAYzohdg9Ro6RTrLXc6fFhKa2BXALArH8I-ZKlSpbYRigQ1Q" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="990" data-original-width="656" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgVZvGKZAzCInvjeXDwo1ssSYLE5O615FkiOEgg8d1MVWVUgMp_ytzHHqqgDNEu0LF_c8WPNkAdLcGKrVrhPoVen-qXqDdqzQzgHS1faLdYLzw5KHM72JzITNoqqLpg6YmFeo4EVHIBR1fAYzohdg9Ro6RTrLXc6fFhKa2BXALArH8I-ZKlSpbYRigQ1Q=w424-h640" width="424" /></a></div>What if instead of dollars we had bananas? It would be obvious who had many and who had few. Those with many would feel awkward, to say the least, to be seen hoarding more bananas than could be eaten. Those with few bananas would naturally be given more bananas, because no one wants to see another go hungry. Money is currency: meant to flow. Like water, it finds its level. It seeks horizontality, not verticality. But when secrecy is enforced, we build dams that don't give a chance for money to flow. Instead it stagnates, pools, gets rancid, while some flood and others die in drought.<p></p><p>I've been rich and I've been poor. For the first 50 years of my life, I experienced financial stability and a middle class or upper middle class life. I walked away from 1.5 million dollars of assets when my marriage ended in 2012. The money felt ill-gotten, a huge karmic load I did not feel capable of processing in a healthy and equitable way. In my very bones, capitalism felt irreparably harmful and an extension of inequity, and I wanted no part of it.<br /></p><p>Since 2012, I've lived modestly on very little money, doing what I love, in voluntary simplicity. I practice gift economy, barter, and creative exchange. My motto is "If I won't do it for free, I won't do it for money." I live a life of incredible abundance on about $20,000/year. Liberating myself from wealth has proven to be spiritually liberating as well. I grow food, I forage, I skillshare with friends. I belong to cooperatives. I've learned how to make do, do without, or make my own. I reduce, reuse, recycle, and repurpose. I produce less than one small produce bag of garbage every 2-3 weeks. </p><p>I reluctantly live in a capitalist society. My goal is to find
cooperative housing, where I can live in community, have access to a
garden, and invest in collective liberation. Meanwhile, I pay $1500 in
rent every month for a high-rise apartment, owned by a friend who is
willing to receive an amount lower than market rate. To keep a roof over
my head I must engage in some capitalist practices. But I am continually
striving to move beyond these practices. I encourage those who have more to
give more, and for those who have less to take more. As a result I have
students who pay me very little, and others who compensate by paying
more. <br /></p><p>I will not glorify poverty. I recognize that our class structure
requires impoverishment of millions of people, who are suffering and
dying because of the restrictions imposed on them. I recognize that my
relationship with money comes from a position of privilege, as someone
who has always lived with generational financial stability, and who has many non-monetary resources to draw from. <br /></p><p>As yoga practitioners, we become more and more sensitive to our own bodies. As this sensitivity develops, we become more sensitive to each other, and to the collective and transgenerational body. We also become more sensitive to other non-human beings: the land, the trees, animals, wind, and water. We cannot help but want to be harmonious with all these beings.</p><p>As such, accruing material wealth is counterintuitive and counterproductive. We recognize that the consumption that capitalism requires has been destroying life all around us. We yearn to live in greater balance with other beings, human, and more-than-human.<br /></p><p>The same way yogāsana trains me to be in uncertain and uncomfortable positions with calmness and confidence, I have been practicing being comfortable with a low financial threshold. Somehow I always have enough to travel, study, grow, and thrive. Ironically I experienced more scarcity when I had lots of money than I do now, because of the socially conditioned drive to continually protect my assets, and the time and energy this required. Besides, it's all relative. I try to keep about $10k in savings for any needs that may arise, while knowing that for so many, this is an impossibly high threshold, and for others, it's such a pittance it's hardly worth it. </p><p>I renounced almost all my assets when I left my marriage: 2 houses, retirement funds, stocks and bonds.... I could not justify holding onto anything contributing to the bloated militaristic, capitalist, racist patriarchy. Also, I instinctively knew that to be in solidarity with my community, I had to expose myself to the same risks. Water seeks its level. I knew that to build community, I could only be trusted if I allowed currency to flow like water. I also knew that coming into a community with a disproportional level of assets would inevitably create a disproportional, imbalanced level of power and responsibility. I would be perceived as the de facto leader if I held the purse strings, and as a non-Black newcomer to Detroit, where I moved in 2013, I knew this would be deeply problematic. I yearned to contribute to the fabric of community already there, and not to displace anyone or anything. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgSNWWTENjr-6JQfzw5sFR2uTgyWBxlXUzZVYc1Qiw0Rjw7rLn-9n1pj68mtk_XBSmC1vA6Gcvoqhox7itmWGh_UZK4LYtJ-entf4iGPxywhymtkBzXwizgcw8enZiKqy79rV7ar7Cd7HmAqWND8fpOB4d1BIaULbYJAvEbXKhzhyS6WoiUwaq9zGVTEg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="798" data-original-width="694" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgSNWWTENjr-6JQfzw5sFR2uTgyWBxlXUzZVYc1Qiw0Rjw7rLn-9n1pj68mtk_XBSmC1vA6Gcvoqhox7itmWGh_UZK4LYtJ-entf4iGPxywhymtkBzXwizgcw8enZiKqy79rV7ar7Cd7HmAqWND8fpOB4d1BIaULbYJAvEbXKhzhyS6WoiUwaq9zGVTEg=w348-h400" width="348" /></a></div><p></p><p>This is why cooperatives have not become the dominant organizational structure. Those with material wealth have been deeply conditioned to guard it with their life, to hide it, and to continually grow it, not share it. Those with less material wealth have been conditioned to feel ashamed, and not recognize the value of their largely uncompensated skills.<br /></p><p>The opposite of scarcity is not wealth. It's relationships. It's community. I'm wealthy because I have good neighbors. I share my resources with them. I help with dog walks and Costco runs and other errands. Together, we held a grieving ceremony after the Uvalde shooting. I invited them to my Chuseok potluck. I ask them to help me with rides to the airport, borrowing tools, and sharing internet. I'm wealthy because I have flexibility in my schedule that allows me to spend ample time with my children and grandchildren, and to cook and share food. I'm wealthy because I have developed valuable skills as a healer and teacher. </p><p>I'm wealthy because I have experienced material wealth and rejected it. I recognize that it takes a tremendous inner safety net to be able to walk away from money. I also recognize that it's the ultimate power move, because it means you cannot be bought nor sold, and that you exist and thrive beyond the limits of money. I know that I had to experience wealth before I could reject it, and I completely understand why others do not have this relationship with money. I support those who have been intergenerationally and systemically impoverished in accumulating wealth. I had to go through the entire cycle of rich to poor to experience both the creative and destructive power of money.<br /></p><p>I am not unique by any means in choosing a life not based on material wealth. I know lots of folks in Detroit who lead revolutionary lives, and have long rejected the trappings of capitalism. They live on cash, have multiple hustles, live in multigenerational households, grow food, look out for their neighbors, belong to co-ops, and share, share share. The way I live has always been the indigenous way, but our lives have been corrupted by the individualistic demands of capitalism.</p><p>To be materially poor does not necessarily lead to scarcity and suffering. Finding alternatives to consumerism and capitalism can be incredibly inspiring and empowering. Yes, let's talk about money, whether you have it, and want to use it to disrupt the destructive status quo, or whether you don't have it, but want to live abundantly and joyfully. Stop hiding your bananas. Let the water flow.<br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-15545992652245865662022-10-09T01:53:00.004-04:002023-01-19T17:36:21.053-05:00Orland Bishop, Collective Trauma Summit 2022 in conversation with Thomas Hübl<div style="text-align: left;"><i>I first came across Orland Bishop when my children were small, at a Waldorf education conference. He embodied a resonance that contained deep wisdom and important messages that penetrated deep into my soul. Ever since then, he has continued to amaze me and take me to new levels of understanding and possibility. This interview moved me so deeply I listened to it several times, and finally sat down with it to take detailed notes. The notes are a way of taking the reflections into my body, to allow them to keep moving and evolving.</i><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Started in allopathic medicine at MLK Hospital, the most recognized trauma center in LA in 1980s</div><div style="text-align: left;">- primarily gun violence, looking at physical trauma, not so much psychological</div><div style="text-align: left;">- did fellowship at Franz Fanon Center at hospital, which centered accumulated transgenerational trauma<span> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- working on resilience, inner life - what does human being do in face of trauma?<span> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- consciousness field which becomes active when something unknown happens - what is soul response to mind/body experience?</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">The inner dialogue makes me a host for my wound</div><div style="text-align: left;">The outer dialogue allows me to engage with someone else who helps to orient me toward a sense of the future</div><div style="text-align: left;">The future is the space between 2 or more human beings that allows us to evolve, a reasoning process for what ails me </div><div style="text-align: left;">- it wakes me up to my wound, which awakes me to feel a resolve to search something</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- the resolve doesn't close the wound, it's an expansion of the healing consciousness that the wound leads to</div><div style="text-align: left;">The self requires a dialogue with other beings - the genesis pathway<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">- children who have been exposed to violence, damaged sense of trust which never closes because it is within the "I"- essential being of the self<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- if I can presence my I with theirs, a superconscious dialogue begins</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">As a child, beginning age 5, I chose to maintain a space beyond my cultural boundaries, beyond what was normal in cultural reality, to stay awake more than usual, because I wanted to see things happening beyond my control, and had an insight about how to live beyond these events</div><div style="text-align: left;">By age 11, I had a way to integrate it into my csns</div><div style="text-align: left;">- how to prepare myself for things others might not be aware of</div><div style="text-align: left;">- what is normal, what is a bit beyond normal that we can go to and come back from <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Resilience is an expanding of soul forces into the "perfecting realm" </div><div style="text-align: left;">- the soul forces come back to rebuild the mind/body relationship</div><div style="text-align: left;">Worked with children - without the expectation that I had to do something with their wounds</div><div style="text-align: left;">- create another kind of attention around them as protection - to protect them from others telling them what to do</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- then the mind will grow into a space, which is freedom</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- this creative act brings them back into a sense of beginning </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span>- this gap is not inherited - it's a choice that the human being always carries</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- I work within that choice - eg working with gangs, peacemaking - to </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- for cellular memory, this epigenetic space is there<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">How to create environment for own healing to take place?</div><div style="text-align: left;">Africa-gnosis - this gap is an initiation threshold</div><div style="text-align: left;">- between the mind and body is a purpose field in which energy and information accumulate, a feeling for other possibilities</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- separates person from what they know, put them into an experience in which energy gets released, in touch with archetypal/ancestral/prophetic world<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- releases body into a quantum development</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- indigenous knowledge puts person outside of time and body</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span>- cellular memory/mitochondria carries this knowledge</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span>- when I don't know what's happening, I contract - must trust the elder, who holds the string for maturation for forward development<span> </span> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- in western tradition we protect what we know - I only know my body, I really don't know my mind</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span>- my body memory tells me I am here, who I am, why I'm here - this is how we operate</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- this can be traumatic, when I don't know what else to do, because my knowledge doesn't give me this threshold</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span>My work has been to go to indigenous traditions to know how this threshold works, and be able to guide others - to go a little bit beyond the normal range of what we know</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span>- we know this as the transition from waking to sleeping, at point of death etc</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> At age 7, fell into a hole into water - body suspended breathing and something else awoke - observing self in water but no water in lungs</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span>- realized this was part of African tradition</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span>- sense perception expanded, intuitional space awakened, became clairvoyant</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span>- an initiation without a guide, except ancestors <br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span>- later invited to South Africa with _______ to practice Indaba </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span><span> </span>- learned about me through other dimensions<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span>- then in Burkina Faso with Malidoma and Sonbofu Somé in Dagara tradition for ritual work</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Deep dialogue work - With whom do you need to speak in order for your story to become true?</div><div style="text-align: left;">Indaba tradition - first level is to tell the story (personal or initiatory) </div><div style="text-align: left;">- wakes up the energy that reveals what is to be known </div><div style="text-align: left;">- awakens archetypal forces</div><div style="text-align: left;">- what is it to be known? what is my body to become? to ask the other or to ask self</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- this is what's most important in the tradition of dialogue <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">- we've forgotten that the mind is the witnessing space for dialogue</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- we have come to depend on intellect instead</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- we need to know not just the content of our lives but the purpose of our interaction - by giving attention to the energy to be reminded that there is something I don't know I know</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span>- this phenomena activates the 5 generations of ancestral memory which is in the body</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- 2 peoples' stories are trying to break out of the pattern that will keep me in my historical inheritances, and create a chemistry for a more self-conscious effect</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- dialogue not based on intellect but on energy</div><div style="text-align: left;">This energy catalyzes profound inspiration and aspiration of the will to move to the intuitive level, and this is where true dialogue begins</div><div style="text-align: left;">- I can ask a question about the future which is not in the content of my own life</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- put into my own energy processes higher forces of creativity to move to the prophetic realm, beyond the inspirational level</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span>- so you and I can go somewhere together if we build the energy field appropriate for a superconscious realm to emerge</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Building different, higher levels of resonance together</div><div style="text-align: left;">Sau bona - we see you - the intelligences emerging from our agreement becomes a shared reality - the prophetic realm - beyond the ancestral world to the archetypal and higher worlds of creation <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">When I look at you, you live in me and I live in you - because we are happening in each other's nervous systems - intraconnected</div><div style="text-align: left;">- if we can pay attention to that resonance, we are pulling in a mutual future that exceeds what we know separately - new space being created<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">What if I can't see you? cannot resonate with you?</div><div style="text-align: left;">- our sensitivity forces are conditioned by csns of mind - which is mostly sympathy and antipathy</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- we learn preferences which become prejudices - we push back on things we don't understand</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span>- initiation requires going into unknown - if we knew what our initiation would look like, we would reject it - we resist transformation, we like the forming of knowledge that meets my self-interest and self-feeling<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- we protect ourselves from change, including allowing someone else's cognizable mind to come into me</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The heart forces create empathy, another kind of feeling - a feeling for the other more so than self</div><div style="text-align: left;">- RW Emerson: "There's a power in love to divine another's destiny, better than that other can, and with heroic encouragements, hold him to his task."</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- when my heart forces recognizes another's energy field, I become a host for the future that is trying to live into their own being</div><div style="margin-left: 40px; text-align: left;">- this feeling of empathy substitutes their own feeling of antipathy, because it goes beyond the choice point of my sense perception</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- cognitive free forces go to another's without any judgment</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- catalytic memory starts to grow - creating sanctuary for the other - freedom from judgment of any kind, including needing to know their story</div><div style="text-align: left;">- the story I am interested in is the future story - need shared purpose for the memory, just hearing about their wounds does nothing for either of us</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span>- the future contextualizes the past<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span>- this kind of attention generates freedom for the other</div><div style="text-align: left;"> <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">An open free space that can invite transformation which has the power to overcome separation and to alchemize a new mutual space<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">We become together, incarnate into the self, a maturing of the will</div><div style="text-align: left;">The other person is protected from losing touch with their security - must enhance their security by telling them they are free</div><div style="text-align: left;">- most people cannot feel it just out of the mind - they need someone else to host a level of their own freedom</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- we can tell when we are in a nonjudgmental space through our sense perception</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">An immense struggle to fill in the space with the heart forces</div><div style="text-align: left;">- worked with young man diagnosed with schizophrenia after drug-induced psychosis</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- spent 20 hours/day for 2 weeks, only witnessing, not diagnosing, until he could recognize me</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- communicated an agreement to leave "here" - to move into another state where extrasensory perception could be normalized, and a new chemistry of boundaries could be created</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span>- took 2 months to bring chemistry back into range of mutual reality</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- when psychiatrists would come into the room, he would re-enter psychosis - that projection of knowledge transferred again</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- when they left, he would engage in normal range</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- invited him to choose which reality he preferred - he chose reality in which he could converse with me</div><div style="text-align: left;">Our minds are always trying to figure out who is the host for the reality in which more freedom can come </div><div style="text-align: left;">- instead of battling, we liberate the creative forces and allow the soul to choose, because soul knows more than the mind what and when a purpose should be fulfilled</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- we don't choose the place to be but we choose the time to be <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span> </span>- boundaries of other realities close when we choose </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span>- we are continually choosing our futures - we just don't believe in them strong enough for them to fulfill the other states of being</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Quality, fluidity of our inner space spacious enough to hold societal issues<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">- if we can hold this space it can have a big transformational impact - how is this done?</div><div style="text-align: left;">The space of our relationships - depends on timing<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">- timing is the first element for transmutation of personality and trauma so that body generates a new beginning<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">- how to get the mind to surrender to its beginning?<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- eg child speaks in third person because they don't yet have sense of self, body is not yet connected to I </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span>- soul force needed to mature child to incarnate into own body</div><div style="text-align: left;">- our truth is hidden in language, grammar, perception, and cognitive stages such that I choose which time-body to live in</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- I could choose to live in the ancestral/inherited realm, or I could choose to live in a state of transmutation</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span>- have to be willing to change my personality - I have to become another conscious being in order to allow my energy to evolve into creativity</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Henrietta Lacks - blood was transmuted, cell became immortal - her life is distributed into other forms, every lab, for future of human medicine<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">- transmuted self in ways that don't make sense in biological time, only in spiritual time<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- what it means to vacate memory from the body that allows it to become a host for time-forces, where it's always NOW</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span>- a constant pure life field in the cell, maintaining pure equilibrium free of trauma</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Sacred hospitality - in this time, a phenomena is trying to enter our lives</div><div style="text-align: left;">- if we could choose an agreement that is energetically appropriate for trust, this event will happen</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- metamorphosis of the given - the given is anything I carry in my perception or cognition to which I give attention</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span>- my attention is a spiritual activity that creates a space between you and me to go through a metamorphosis</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- I give my attention because it heals me when I give it, and heals you when you receive it</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- it can move between us to higher levels of creativity - can go into the unconscious, superconscious<span> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span>- the movement of energy without any content, to ask what are you willing to be if freedom is given?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- to give attention without asking for anything back, so that the person can choose what they give back</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><span> </span><span>- if they reciprocate with attention, becomes a communion of soul forces that allows the mind to receive something</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span>We become the future download for each other</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span>- healing alchemical quality which affects trauma stored in us, eg fragmented past or storage of information that is frozen</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span>- a mutual anchoring in the future which allows us to move into a new version of ourselves</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span>To put energy and cognitive feeling of truth into words - coming from heart as creative force, prioritizing other's future</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span>- a vessel for what is trying to begin in pure attentiveness - stepping out of the past into the present phenomena of feeling of trust - this space is between us<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span>A traumatic event creates a chunk of the past which is shut down and held in nervous system, and creates a mirror future in nervous system, which is an escape of the real future</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span>- healing allows for a reintegration which allows us to move into the real future</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span>- we open the space for one another</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> <span> </span><span> </span>- we don't want to be in the future by ourselves! the dialogue space/language structure allows us to ask who else agrees with what I know to be true</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- we can expand what we know to include levels of agreement we have not yet lived</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span>Indaba - cognitive steps toward higher agreement possible in superconscious, not yet mapped</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span>- civilization has to choose what has to be transformed in our ways of life</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span>- eg climate change requires different choices about environment<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span><span> </span>- initiation requires we need to give up something - content of our csns - we don't want to do this because we think we will lose ourself</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- healing is most profound when I choose to be the knower but not the knowledge</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span>Collective csns field has reached its limit of what knowledge through the intellect can do</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span>- collective trauma body in the world and its fear is the result of our knowledge<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span>- we need to choose now to leave it - our knowledge cannot complete the next step going into the superconscious field<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span>- our astral body has an electromagnetic force that unites us as a global csns being</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span>- our belief structures are held in common, esp regarding money <br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span>- we hold the threshold for an initiation into the superconscious phenomena, which includes our environment at a much higher level</span><span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span>- when we sleep our environment is different - we give up our csns field that limits us, through our chemistry, that our waking life elicits from us</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span>- sense perception is feeling, and so is our environment</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span><span> </span>- our fears are resonating in a field that is causing storms - we were asleep to the phenomena of our own human psyche</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- our psyche has to choose another level of integrity through soul force, not the mind</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- we must choose a true genesis power, through love, in which something new can happen</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- it starts with each other - we cannot change the environment without changing how we relate to each other</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>- we are the progenitors for integrity within environment - an initiatory threshold</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span>Environment is reflective of the inner calm and choices we can make</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span>- nature is so intelligent that it will reveal more of itself if we can resolve the inner conflict</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span>- ie we don't want to share the world - collective trauma and the world future is the same</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span>Sharing world, not just resources - shared space becomes fuel for liberation</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span>Leading edge is climate change - light forces in our astral csns get to be homolumous state - cognitive social memory, a psychic space to go into deeper dreaming</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span>- wake up from sleep into a new reality, a new chemistry</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span> </span><span> </span>- this sleeping/waking rhythm is important for the evolution of csns to the collective super conscious<br /></span></div><span><span> </span><span> </span>- witness insights and intuitions not projections for what can come into the world<br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span> </span><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-3149274360191163602022-05-18T01:49:00.000-04:002022-05-18T01:49:01.810-04:00Sacred Surrender: Thoughts on Roe v. Wade, the more-than-human, and the continuity of life<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIviMHt8DW2-jGJW9Iy1T1h6hWWAJk1LHmhWfY9-v8htpEjquAFeRtENNfKJmvU93QKMQu7vaXp7GZ-OUwHrivFAbnDmE9h8yrAcMmSOmN9YwzE-YQNkfi93wjF4spOIVnf4qNmgq9mfSF2d3lCxOv8Aqg3bhuCH74QRnNnewti_LRYzF1nOyNCbxvpw/s480/30A958C4-8BCE-4D68-92DB-1B94DE72B2C0_4_5005_c.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="360" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIviMHt8DW2-jGJW9Iy1T1h6hWWAJk1LHmhWfY9-v8htpEjquAFeRtENNfKJmvU93QKMQu7vaXp7GZ-OUwHrivFAbnDmE9h8yrAcMmSOmN9YwzE-YQNkfi93wjF4spOIVnf4qNmgq9mfSF2d3lCxOv8Aqg3bhuCH74QRnNnewti_LRYzF1nOyNCbxvpw/s320/30A958C4-8BCE-4D68-92DB-1B94DE72B2C0_4_5005_c.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandkids napping, 2021<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p>My Korean immigrant mother told me only one thing about sex: “We don’t believe in abortion.”<br /><br />It was the 1970s. She had recently been diagnosed with an autoimmune condition, myasthenia gravis. Chondoso-halmoni (“Evangelizing Grandma”) came and stayed with us while Mommy recovered from major surgery in which the doctors foolishly and violently removed her thymus gland, mistakenly thinking it was the culprit to her weakened condition. All her life thus far, my mother was a rather lukewarm second generation Christian socialized with Confucian values. But in her vulnerable, post-surgical state, Chondoso-halmoni—not our real grandma, but a community grandma, eternally old but unreasonably spry—turned Mommy into a repenting, born-again, Pentecostal Christian.<br /><br />I would never begrudge Mom or anyone else their redemption. But every redemption has its price, and in order to feel in the right, others have to be in the wrong. So I must have been wrong, terribly wrong, in 1984, a junior in college, to find myself pregnant.<br /><br />My body blossomed into pregnancy within weeks, as if it had been waiting for just this moment. I felt bloated, nauseous, terrified, but I couldn’t help entertaining the notion of keeping this baby—that’s how much my hormones had already begun taking over. I went so far as to write a letter to my parents on my manual typewriter, explaining the situation and my decision to become a young mother and postpone my senior year of college. A letter I never sent.<br /><br />In my 12th week of pregnancy, I finally committed to terminating the pregnancy. I was drowning in guilt, remorse, and shame, but I was resolved. I would go on with my life. I would finish school. I was in a relationship, but I would let it take its time, and not let it be shaped by an unplanned child while we were so young. The doctor at the clinic was a brusque, impersonal Korean man. He exuded no judgement, but I couldn’t help feeling guilty and sinful. I asked him what was the baby’s sex? And he scoffed and said, “It’s not a baby.”<br /><br />Nevertheless I felt I had taken a life. In my short pregnancy I had strangely experienced a budding relationship with this being that I was carrying. Politically I was, and continue to be, staunchly pro-choice and a feminist. But in my soul I experienced a severance and a deep sadness.<br /><br />I buried my sadness and proceeded with my studies. I won a writing award, and created a volume of poetry as my senior thesis. I told next to no one about my secret loss. I went on with my life.<br /><br />Maybe partially in response to my unresolved grief, I married early, at age 21, with my 25 year-old partner, took myself off birth control pills, and found myself pregnant once again almost immediately. Apparently my body longed to be pregnant, over and over again, like my basil plants that bolt within weeks, continually flowering and seeding. This time I knew I would keep the baby.<br /><br />I dove into motherhood and zealously embraced natural childbirth, breastfeeding, family bed and more. Motherhood radicalized me and awakened me to my own power. Becoming Meiko’s mother grounded me and gave me an undeniable sense of purpose and joy.<br /><br />As soon as Meiko began talking, she started referring to her big brother, Suki. Suki this and Suki that, we heard story after story about Suki. This went on for several years. It finally ended when she surprised herself by finding a photo of Suki, her imaginary brother, in the basement of my parents’ Korean Church in Buffalo, New York.<br /><br />“Look!” she said, startled. “There’s Suki.” She pointed to a boy in one of the family photos lining the walls of the church. He looked about 8 or 9, standing with his family. Meiko was maybe 4 or 5 at this time.<br /><br />“Oh, wow,” her dad and I said, humoring her, as surprised as she was. We went on with our day, Meiko grew older, and Suki faded away. But for those years, Suki was a presence in our family, and in Meiko’s toddler life. It doesn’t matter whether we regard an imaginary sibling or friend as an angel, a ghost, a projection of a mother’s guilt, or simply a product of a child’s imagination. I also embraced Suki, and some non-logical part of me even regarded Suki as my own.<br /><br />This is how I would describe my pregnancy and decision to end it: <br /><i>A being came into my life. After careful consideration, I declined to admit this being to fully manifest in my body. In the triangle of me, God, and this being, I stepped forward and said, no, not now. And released this spirit back into the ineffable cosmos. <br /></i><br />Once I departed from conventional Christian notions of heaven and hell, the spheres of spirit revealed themselves, and I recognized the unstoppable pulse of life everywhere. Once I shifted the lens from the human point of view to the more-than-human perspective, I realized that life reveals itself through all forms, including the wind, water, trees, art, and sometimes even the seemingly mundane.<br /><br /><i>When does life begin? </i>An impossible question, because when does life end? My answer is never. <br /><br />After Meiko, I gave birth 2 more times, to Katja, and her brother, Malachi. I experienced yet another pregnancy, when Malachi was 2 years old. Once again, I found myself struggling with how to relate to this being. Once again, I was caught off-guard. I felt complete with our 3 kids, and up to my ears in responsibilities, with barely enough time to care for myself, do any writing, or even rest.<br /><br />This time I did share my concerns with a few trusted friends, and eventually decided, yet again, to terminate the pregnancy. This decision pained me, possibly even more than the first time 9 years prior, because I never thought I would have to do it again. A friend accompanied me to my second abortion, and we walked through a phalanx of protestors at dawn. She held me while I cried when it was all over. Just because we commit to a course of action doesn’t mean we don’t grieve our losses. And just because I am grieving does not mean I made a wrong decision. I can be sad but not regretful.<br /><br />What is right and what is wrong? Life doesn’t operate in binaries. We live in the “yes, and.” We muddle through the contradictions and complexities. We do the best we can in any given moment. Why would we do any less?<br /><br />I released another being from my body, so that I could care for the 3 I gave birth to, with a modicum of energy left for myself. It was a profound and difficult act of self-care and self-love. <br /><br />BKS Iyengar observed, “Most people want to take joy without suffering. I will take both.” I, too, refuse to go through life trying to avoid suffering. Especially as mothers, we understand somatically that we contain both joy and suffering, both life and death, and that we must accept both. Pregnancy and childbirth themselves teach us this with magnificence, no holds barred. <br /><br />With each pregnancy, I realized that I was not a one-way channel, but that I was in relationship. As such, each agent practices sovereignty. We practice consent and dialogue. We are in circle with one another. Each party can decline to proceed at any time. <br /><br />I also realized that I am part of an ecosystem, a collective, a network of realms and beings, and that closing one door allows another door to open. We each extend beyond our individuality, and belong to collectives of consciousness. <br /><br />Shortly after my second abortion, my 2 year-old son, Malachi, woke up in the middle of the night crying. He wasn’t crying out of a physical need. “Baby,” he cried, “babeeeee.” He pulled me out of bed and took me into the playroom next door. He dug through the basket of dolls and finally pulled out the “fetus doll.” I was a natural childbirth teacher, and I had a model pelvis and model fetus doll, the size of a newborn human baby, with a cloth body and plastic head that the children loved to play with. He tearfully clutched the doll and we went back to bed. <br /><br />It’s easy to speculate and impossible to have firm answers, but I know that strongly in that moment, I felt the spirit of the child I released present in our own family. Who knows what dream Malachi awakened from that night? Who knows why he wept for the baby? What baby? Or whether he was picking up on my grief, tasting it through my breastmilk? We exist in constellations, we feel each other nonverbally. We cry together, we experience both joys and losses together.<br /><br />As Malachi became more verbal, he, like Meiko, referred constantly to his imaginary siblings. He had 3 brothers, Michael, Jonathan, and believe it or not, Goofy, who went on all kinds of adventures, and even died and revived. Our family, like all others, was a menagerie of beings and characters encompassing all levels of reality from the concrete physical to the imaginary invisible. I choose to let the mystery be, and embrace the weirdness and wildness of all possible life forms.<br /><br />Once I was in conversation with a young woman, who described herself as firmly Democrat in her political views, except for the issue of choice. She explained that because she was adopted, she was anti-abortion, because she would not be here today if her biological mother had aborted her. The observation struck me as peculiarly Western, in its individualism, as if her personal existence was in and of itself a victory.<br /><br />On the other hand, I’m inclined to say, although I did not at the time: <i>So what if you were never born? You would just take form another time, another place. Is our uniqueness that precious? Is your current life that perfect that you refuse to imagine another embodiment?</i><br /><br />Animism teaches me to be less precious, both about myself and other beings. It’s about the complexity of relationships rather than mere transactionality. <br /><br />Here in Honolulu, I discovered a grove of several mature, incredibly abundant mango trees. They are in an old cemetery from the early 20th century. At first I hesitated to take the fallen fruit at the risk of being offensive. But the trees, heavy with fruit, implored us to partake, and alleviate their burden. After all, the only reason they produce fruit is to propagate themselves. So now I visit the trees often, leaving flowers, stones, and tokens at gravesites, tidying up and gleaning. <br /><br />For many years, I was vegetarian. But I returned to being an omnivore when I realized I was not keeping up with my nutritional needs. I had not found it possible to adequately nourish myself without being in relationship with other animal beings. Vegans must be in relationship with plant beings, and be willing to sacrifice them to meet their own survival needs. Omnivores choose to be in relationship with both plant and animal beings. To some extent, we take on one another’s karma. I recognize my hands are not innocent, and that to live, I require the sacrifice of other lives. One might argue that veganism emerges from an anthropocentric view, and that once we remove humans from the top of the power pyramid, we recognize that we live as kin with plants, other animals, fungi, bacteria, viruses, and the elements.<br /><br />The peninsula of Korea is 75% mountains. While living there in 2014, I realized that the mountains, like humans, are constantly moving, changing, and shifting as living beings, but so slowly that it’s mostly undetectable to human senses. I’m talking not only about the obvious surface vegetation and animal life, but also the deep stony foundations. 1 day to a human being might be like 1 year to a mountain. The mountainous islands of Hawai`i where I now live remind me of this daily. <br /><br />Why do we refuse to grant sovereignty to the more-than-human, while some insist on giving rights to unborn humans? Has Christianity convinced people that humans indeed sit atop a hierarchy, to assert dominion?<br /><br />Or are we willing to consider, for instance, Elder Malidoma Somé’s description of his Dagara cosmology, in which trees are the wisest, highest beings, animals second, and humans third? Why do we easily choose to kill trees in order to build a house, yet harshly judge a woman who sacrifices an unborn human with whom she shares her body? <br /><br />Every sacrifice—a sacred surrender, letting go, renunciation—is highly personal and intimate. I suggest our current debate over Roe v. Wade indicates we need to reinvigorate ritual and spiritual practices into our everyday lives. Why do many cultures pray before eating? Because we universally perceive that eating requires sacrifice, and that for our own bodies to survive, other beings had to lose their lives.<br /><br />We understand that the energy from eating gets recycled, through our bodies, as we fuel our activities, and create waste, that then, if we complete the loop, goes back into the earth to provide nitrogen for plants. I hope that when it’s time for me to leave my earthly body, I can be consumed by creatures so that I am giving back to the earth all that has supported me through the decades.<br /><br />The Roe v. Wade debate indicates that we live in a death-phobic society. When we see death as a one-way road, with a destination determined by our goodness or repentance, it definitely can be terrifying. But I see death as a transition from one form into another. We will each give up our physical presence as we return to the earth, wind, and waters, and shift into spiritual presence, as stories, memories, dreams, and more. From a yogic perspective, we eventually reincarnate, and come back into an earthly form to try again, to learn the lessons our spirits long for.<br /><br />Yes, we grieve. Death rends the hearts of the living. We miss our dearly departed. We long for their physical presence. We lose too many too early due to war, genocide, disease, injustice, and inequality. We fight to change these conditions, while learning to accept the losses when we cannot prevent them. Grieving is a continuation of loving. Reinvigorating ritual and spiritual practices must include deep, daily grieving. Our capacity to grieve expands our emotional range, and our capacity for joy and pleasure. The goal of life is not to avoid death, suffering, and loss. We came here, I believe, to learn, grow, mature, evolve, and, hate to say, our hardships are sometimes our greatest teachers.<br /><br />My first intimate experience of death was the sudden loss of my older brother, John, when I was 24 years old, and he was 25. The event devastated me and my family, especially my mother. We don’t necessarily recover from huge losses like this. But his death opened a door for me, as a young woman, to come to terms and begin to accept the inevitability of death, and start to understand death in more nuanced ways than mainstream culture and religion taught. Later, in my 30s, I accompanied each of my parents through their death journeys. In my 40s and 50s, I had the privilege of being present with friends and mentors through their dying processes. Each of these experiences, as well as my abortion experiences, broke me open, so that I could receive profound teachings, about what it meant to be alive, in this body, in this time and place, in relationship with all other beings—human, more-than-human, embodied, and disembodied.<br /><br />Let us live into the complexities and contradictions. Let’s not police each other’s bodies. Let’s cradle, nurture, and cherish all life, realizing that life neither begins nor ends with the physical body. Let’s be present with each other, and hold each other in our grief. Let’s enter the wells of grief willingly and deeply. Let’s celebrate the stunningly beautiful temporality that gives us joy and pleasure: our bodies, our human loved ones, the waters, mountains, stars, moons, planets, the winds, the stones, songs, art, our plant and animal kindred, and so so so much more. May it be so.</p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-45812560008515039332022-03-23T14:18:00.000-04:002022-03-23T14:18:40.059-04:00My Ūrdhva Dhanurāsana Journey<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7sHKX2t5On5V4oU8mbhsw0bQbszDuXMoLHNnTG6FmZz_HgvjOJSUAmFranajfxSoHYbQGsf4_pOY64R7uDShUyziyUr1Hna9np-42atmgk76eXBaW2oDxgfq1TbIASml7xFlsJQlfHRTW0MNd_SMuaJDM5fv264eYo2orhd9RMrIndaA8zKur_OPtug/s944/Screen%20Shot%202022-03-22%20at%209.49.04%20PM.png" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="788" data-original-width="944" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7sHKX2t5On5V4oU8mbhsw0bQbszDuXMoLHNnTG6FmZz_HgvjOJSUAmFranajfxSoHYbQGsf4_pOY64R7uDShUyziyUr1Hna9np-42atmgk76eXBaW2oDxgfq1TbIASml7xFlsJQlfHRTW0MNd_SMuaJDM5fv264eYo2orhd9RMrIndaA8zKur_OPtug/s320/Screen%20Shot%202022-03-22%20at%209.49.04%20PM.png" width="320" /></a><br /></div><p>This Ūrdhva Dhanurāsana has been 26 years in the making. I’m not a natural backbender by any means. Every centimeter of this pose has come through struggle, and deep waves of healing.<br /><br />I began exploring yoga in the mid-1990s as a young mother of 3. I thought yoga might help me with balance and flexibility as a dancer, and classes fit in well with my youngest child’s kindergarten schedule. Little did I know the impact of yoga, particularly Iyengar Yoga, on the entire trajectory of my life.<br /><br />I remember the first time I learned Dwipāda Viparīta Daṇḍāsana on a bench with my first serious Iyengar Yoga teacher, Maria Luisa Basualdo, it just about killed me. I had no idea my spine was so resistant to movement. All this time, I had gotten around just fine, and in fact, was otherwise quite mobile. It was a strong message from my body to my mind: <i>hey, pay attention to this</i>.<br /><br />In retrospect, when I started yoga at age 33, I had just completed a 10-year nonstop streak of birthing and breastfeeding. I was depleted literally to my bones. My children had literally sucked me dry, but I didn’t know it. I was young enough to be fully functional, in fact more than functional, but your typical supermom. I parented long days and nights while my husband worked late. I chauffeured my children back and forth from Waldorf school, extracurricular activities, and playdates. I cooked constantly, tended a garden, and ran a household, while nurturing a life as a writer, writing teacher, and a part time job as the education coordinator at Woodland Pattern, a poetry center.<br /><br />At the same time I lived as an extreme racial minority in one of the most racially divided cities in the USA, Milwaukee, Wisconsin. It would be many more years before I would awaken to the ways I had allowed myself to live a marginalized life, and begin to reverse those inner and outer conditions.<br /><br />In fact I cannot discuss Ūrdhva Dhanurāsana without discussing race. My stiff, resistant dorsal spine was the armor I didn’t even realize I had put on. Apparently, I had developed a habit of bracing. It probably started as a young teen, when our family moved from Honolulu, Hawai`i to a suburb of Buffalo, New York, when I went from a pan-APIA culture to almost white-out conditions. Not only is the region notable for the piles of snowfall, but my school and neighborhood were a brutal experience of immersion into white supremacy.<br /><br />Of course, my readers know I’m not referring to KKK, but to ordinary, everyday global white supremacy, in which white culture undergirds every institution from banking to education to food systems to religion and more. All of a sudden I was in an ocean of whiteness and in a state of culture shock from which I never fully recovered.<br /><br />However, out of survival, I did assimilate. I learned to talk like a white girl. I learned to make fun of myself and my people. Through my teens and twenties, I learned to ally myself and identify with whiteness. I married into white culture, and gave birth to three half-white children.<br /><br />That first Dwipāda Viparīta Daṇḍāsana gave an inkling that something was off. Why did this particular part of my body present stiffness and resistance? What was being communicated to me?</p><p><br />I cannot discuss Ūrdhva Dhanurāsana without also discussing grief. My father died in 1999, at age 71. My mother died two years later, in 2001, at age 65. I served as a caregiver for both my parents as they were dying, and sat with them as they took their final breaths. As difficult and painful as the dying process can be, these were some of the richest days of my life which I treasure more each passing year. <br /><br />After my mother died, I developed asthma. The annoying post-nasal drip and nagging allergies of my twenties—symptoms of the autoimmune conditions I had inherited—bloomed into more serious forms of eczema, asthma, and digestive issues. It took another 10 years of working intensely with alternative and complementary health providers to understand and tame these conditions of chronic illness. Since then I have also come to understand autoimmunity through a psycho/social/political lens, and come to grips with illness as a socially manufactured condition. Covid-19 made this abundantly clear, as we watched those with high social status, like POTUS, sail through largely unscathed, with state-of-the-art medical care and drugs unavailable to others, while many Black and Brown folks, in places like my former home city of Detroit, fell through huge chasms of care, and lost their lives to the virus. We also witnessed how marginalized communities suffer disproportionately from chronic illnesses that make them especially vulnerable to Covid-19.<br /><br />I carried all of this knowledge unconsciously in my dorsal spine, and in anahata chakra, the heart chakra. The combination of grief manifesting in my heart and lungs, depletion from motherhood, and the allostatic load of racism showed up in my struggle with backbends.<br /> </p><p>One day, I attended class at the New York Iyengar Yoga Institute, with the illustrious Lara Warren Brunn. I believe we were walking our hands down the wall from Taḍāsana to Ūrdhva Dhanurāsana and back up. As I stood back up, Lara startled me when she pounded my sternum twice with her palm and said, “LIVE HERE!” I will never forget that moment, in which I recognized that, in fact, I had not been living there. Instead, I had been armoring, protecting, defending, and grieving.<br /><br />These days, most yoga practitioners in the USA agree that āsana itself does not constitute a yoga practice, and that all 8 limbs must be practiced. The Iyengar Yoga tradition embraces this, and teaches us to cultivate all 8 limbs. However, Iyengar Yoga famously emphasizes and prioritizes āsana practice as the primary gateway to aṣtadala yoga (the 8 petals of yoga). For me, this emphasis works. As a youngster, I would not have been able to stick with a practice that did not include vigorous physicality and a huge does of tapas. The subtle practices came much, much later.<br /><br />I turn 59 this year, and I appreciate the physical practices even more. What sense does it make that my Ūrdhva Dhanurāsana now is so much more profound, quiet, lifted, and aligned than when I was in my 30s? Believe me, it’s still a struggle, and I need to call up everything within me to do the āsana. <br /><br />But now I’m back in my childhood home, Honolulu, Hawai`i, in a pan-APIA community. Everywhere I go, I see myself and my children and grandchildren reflected back to me. My feet are back on the `aina that nurtured me as a child. Year-round I am warmed by the sun and warm ocean waves. The protective mountains surround me. The currents and breezes flow all around the island I inhabit. I’ve promised myself I will go hiking at least once a week, and to the beach at least once a week, even if it’s just for an hour. I see my children and grandchildren at least once a week. I’m also committing to having friends over for dinner weekly. I’m experiencing a harmony and ease in my life that is completely novel. It’s a good life, which is the understatement of the year, and has been nearly 60 years in the making. And it’s from this deep well of healing that my Ūrdhva Dhanurāsana emerges.</p><p><br />Deep pranams to my teachers, who never gave up, and kept pushing and challenging me, and infused me with their tapas and wisdom when I felt I could do no more, especially Lois Steinberg, Gulnaaz Dashti, Laurie Blakeney, and of course, Geeta Iyengar. Deep pranams to all my students, who provide bottomless wells of inspiration and motivation.<br /><br /><br /></p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-45200036041489424152022-02-03T00:47:00.000-05:002022-02-03T00:47:02.966-05:00The Lowdown: My Period<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1486" data-original-width="1146" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNQuXCx7UfHyYePz8gaTT8cAXlTrWhpXHG7Ip1gLPDnrloSolJzIa8n0zptSHTBsxbxisFDuIHD6Gv5jWUEPqhbf_mG9A0LAd-Sevi5GJl_u1aAjQ-nDCIF2Vrb5NAyQ2_54q14LJD1CdDDzPx1VnwlEQ5k-s9JhgzKRZkTkU7MUVrMBRcQ_Q_ir7idg=w494-h640" width="494" /><br /></div><p></p><p><br />I came to Iyengar Yoga through a side door: dance. I started doing yoga, casually and randomly, in my late 20s and early 30s, as something to do when I couldn’t make it to a dance class. When I experienced Iyengar Yoga and its rigor and precision, I realized it was worthy of study on its own, not just to supplement my dance ambitions.<br /><br />As I started going to weekly classes, my Iyengar Yoga teachers instructed us to let them know if we were menstruating. I had no idea why, and I never bothered to tell them. I was already habituated to tucking in that tampon and throwing my body around in dance classes for years. It never occurred to me to do anything less.<br /><br />However, as I became more steeped in the yoga practice, I started to notice a few things:<br /></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>I always assumed that a menstrual period lasted 5, 6, or 7 days. It was just something you put up with. But when I learned Geeta Iyengar’s menstrual āsana sequence, my period shortened to 3 days.</li><li>I would sometimes have cramps, headaches, and bloating. But doing certain āsanas alleviated or even eliminated these conditions.</li><li>The menstrual sequence felt good on my body and mind. Was I just being lazy? What was happening, really?<br /></li></ul><p style="text-align: left;">Geeta Iyengar referred to menses as a mini-childbirth. At first, this struck me as odd. But as I pondered it, this comparison started to make sense. By this point in my life, I was already a mother of 3, as well as a natural childbirth instructor. So I knew about the reproductive cycle, childbirth, and postpartum. I just had not connected it all to the non-pregnant state of menstrual cycles until I started reading and learning from Geeta Iyengar. <br /><br />Let’s say a doe is in the woods, about to give birth. If she is startled, she will get up, start moving, and her labor will stop. She will seek a safer location, then return to laboring. Not until she is safe and relaxed will she give birth. Humans are the same. What I realized is that the reason why my periods lasted nearly a week is because I was so active during it. The bleeding stopped and started according to my activity. When I started practicing the menstrual sequence, I supported my body’s natural rhythms and functions. I refrained from exertion and strenuous activity for a few days. For 2 days, I seemed to bleed profusely. Wearing pads instead of tampons helped me better discern the state of my flow. By the 3rd day, I was lightly spotting.<br /><br />I noticed that the supine poses in the sequence helped me to relax and sometimes even doze off. If I had a headache, 10-15 minutes in Supta Baddha Koṇāsana, supine “butterfly” pose, with a bolster under my back, and blankets supporting my thighs, seemed to cure it. I learned that during menstruation, due to the exertive uterine contractions expelling the endometrial lining, our body temperature slightly elevates, and Supta Baddha Koṇāsana, with its aeration of the armpit and groin regions, cooled off the body.<br /><br />Supta Vīrāsana helped to lift and tone the uterus: two effects I had never heard anyone mention. The uterus is comprised of layers of muscle as one of the strongest organs in the body. I found this pose impossible and painful at first, after years of building up strong legs in Afro-Caribbean dance. But with the help of bolsters, blankets, and repetition, the easier it became. <br /><br />Ardha Chandrāsana, half moon pose, with the support of a wall, a counter, or dresser, immediately alleviated the feeling of heaviness, bloating, and cramping. Utthita Hasta Pārśva Padanguṣthāsana, extended leg to the side, had a similar effect.<br /><br />The forward bends, done with plenty of support, were mentally restful, and taught me how to hinge from the hips while keeping my abdomen soft. Janu Śirṣāsana, seated pose with one leg bent out to the side, seemed to encourage my flow. In fact, afterwards, my flow would become quite heavy, and then the next day, dry up.<br /><br />My last period was February 2014, when I was 50 years old. So why am I writing this article now? We continue to live in a misogynist society. I continue to meet menstruators who neglect menses, who have never learned anything about their cycles except that we should engage in normal activity, and nothing should stop us from doing anything non-menstruators can do. At the same time, it seemed like, especially during the stress of the pandemic, almost everyone was having more than usual menstrual discomfort. Furthermore, even among yoga practitioners, there seems to be an enormous disparity in what folks believe and practice regarding menses. Some do no āsana at all on their moon. Some do everything except inversions. Some do everything with no exceptions.<br /><br />The proof is in the pudding. I suggest you try Geeta Iyengar’s menstrual sequence for at least 2 days, when your flow is heaviest. There are many versions, ranging from the full 2-hour sequence, to shorter 60-90 minute versions, and special poses for specific issues. Here is a common 90-minute sequence. Meanwhile, refrain from strenuous activity, including heavy lifting, running, and swimming. Use your heavy days as rest days. Consult with a trusted certified Iyengar Yoga teacher to learn the set-ups and particulars of each pose. At Iyengar Yoga Detroit Collective, we have a Tuesday evening Uterine Health Class offered online and in-person.<br /><br />I taught in the Dance Department at Alverno, a women’s college in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, for many years. I always covered menses and taught the menstrual sequence. Every week, I’d reinforce it and give modifications and alternatives for menstruators. In the end of the semester assessments, many students reported that learning about menses and the menstrual sequence was their favorite part, and testified to the benefits they received.<br /><br />Not only do Geeta’s recommendations make sense and feel good, practicing the sequence taught me how to slow down, and counteract the grind of capitalism and the incessant pressure of productivity. The tasks would just have to wait. I learned how to prioritize my health, and ask for what I needed. It gave me time for introspection to deal with emotional ups and downs. In white supremacist, patriarchal capitalism (thank you, bell hooks!) all these practices are deemed unimportant, so practicing the menstrual sequence becomes an act of political resistance.<br /><br />At first, I forced myself to do the menstrual sequence. Later, I craved it. Now, post-menopausal, I miss it, and practice it once in a while anyway. I still have organs down there, and the physiological and mental effects still carry benefits. Many non-menstruators, including men, sing the praises of the effects they receive from the beautiful sequences designed for menstrual health.<br /><br />I’ve not yet mentioned the post-menstrual sequence, a fantastic, inversion-centered sequence, which helps to dry out the uterus, restore energy levels, and balance shifting hormones. I love and value this sequence as much as the menstrual sequence, and continue to practice it. The depths of Geeta Iyengar’s revolutionary teachings continue to reap benefits. All I can say is try them out, preferably with the guidance of a CIYT. Consult Lois Steinberg’s <a href="https://www.loissteinberg.com/products/geeta-s-iyengars-guide-to-a-womans-yoga-practice-2006" target="_blank">comprehensive book on menstruation</a>. Gather your basic props and improvise as needed.<br /><br />Let me know what you notice. Be attentive to the more subtle effects. May the menstrual practice be a balm, refuge, and healing for us all.<br /> </p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-83974260081356756372022-01-04T00:10:00.001-05:002022-01-04T00:10:55.103-05:00Crying at Costco<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMGGyAPCyO709Xin2F-Hnwyg21nAgJEFgKhsPYORVty0KsgsH05L3fHuUDkyi6cFbz79DUe7dbnv1JSPBMWQ50fORo3IsTPLJoXsEQb1WxcJzD_hHbrHW2gbTxIML8KVYtPzSXBPezpS-f/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMGGyAPCyO709Xin2F-Hnwyg21nAgJEFgKhsPYORVty0KsgsH05L3fHuUDkyi6cFbz79DUe7dbnv1JSPBMWQ50fORo3IsTPLJoXsEQb1WxcJzD_hHbrHW2gbTxIML8KVYtPzSXBPezpS-f/w400-h300/IMG_1722.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset over Honolulu from my 10th floor window<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p>In an effort to stock a kitchen from scratch, I borrowed my son’s Costco card to buy staples: olive oil, vinegar, flour, and more. I resist these big warehouses because the size of the store and the quantities overwhelm me. Living alone, it would take me a year or longer to go through these products. However, I was heartened to see that prices were not much higher than on the mainland, as opposed to grocery stores where prices seem to be doubled. I figured I could freeze or share what I could not use. <br /><br />Unlike other Costcos, I found myself happily wandering the aisles, surrounded by Asian folks. There were many intergenerational group shoppers, and my ears caught many Korean conversations. The aisles were well-stocked with shoyu, gochujang, and lots of other Asian staples. I felt affirmed, mirrored, and blended in: a new feeling for me after so many years on the continent. <i>This is what it must feel like to be white,</i> I thought, <i>or to be Black in a city like Detroit</i>. I felt all warm and fuzzy inside.<br /><br />But I got to the checkout, only to be rejected. <br /><br />“You’re not on this member’s account. You’re not allowed to shop here.”<br /><br />“Can we call him?” I asked. I had just spent nearly an hour picking out what I needed.<br /><br />“No. This card says ‘non-transferable.’ You cannot use it.”<br /><br />A team of us routinely shop for Baba Baxter in Detroit at Costco and had never encountered a problem. I was sure there was some way to get around this. Now there were two staff members, insisting on the same thing: NO.<br /><br />Damn, it’s just some fucking groceries! I wanted to say. I was also tempted to ask the next person in line if they could buy my food and get reimbursed. Instead, I accepted the rejection and left the store.<br /><br />In the shelter of my car, I wept. <br /><br /><i>A waste of tears! Costco? How petty could I be?</i><br /><br />What came up for me was a feeling of being trapped in the capitalist consumerist machine. Being forced to spend money I’m trying to string out as long as possible. A rejection of the cooperative way of life I have been cultivating for so long. In Detroit, we share everything. My friends and I are all trying our best to hack the system, not get stuck in unfulfilling jobs, DIY, skill-share, live abundantly on less, practice interdependence, and reduce our carbon footprints. One Costco account can support several households. Living on less means we have time to grow food, take care of each other, and be available as needs arise. Now here I was back in the matrix. I felt forced to capitulate to the oppressive, exploitative, materialistic machine. <br /><br />After I got a chance to regain my equilibrium, I decided to go to my neighborhood food cooperative. I had been meaning to join and volunteer anyway. Even though the prices would be higher than Costco, I could get a worker-member discount, as well as build community. After the feelings of dejection faded, I was able to remember, and act on, my values. On my way over, I got a call, which I ignored because it was an unknown number. But they called twice, then texted me.<br /><br />Before I’d left home that morning, I had handwritten 3 notes. I slipped them under the doors of my next door neighbor, and the residents directly above and below me. The note read:<br /><i>Hello, neighbor! This is Peggy, in #1004. I’m wondering if you would like to share wifi with me? We could split the cost and each save money. Let me know if you’re interested.<br /></i><br />Who is “Peggy”? For the past 6 years, I’d been training my communities to use my Korean name, Gwi-Seok, instead, as part of my process of reindigenizing and decolonizing. But I’ve noticed something here in Hawai`i. Because I blend in so easily here, I don’t feel a need to assert my Korean identity. For the first time since childhood, I feel a sense of security about my racial identity. I don’t feel othered, exoticized, or like an outsider. I don’t feel like the people around me are whitewashing me; they are yellow-washing me, actually. As such, I’m as comfortable with “Peggy” as with “Gwi-Seok.” My family calls me Peggy and that feels fine. I introduce myself to casual acquaintances as Peggy because it's just easier. <br /><br />The phone calls and text turned out to be from my downstairs neighbor, an older Black woman, who was happy to share her wifi with me. She came up to talk to me, and we had a beautiful neighborly conversation, resulting in both of us saving $40 each month! I promised to invite her (age 75) and her husband (age 85) up for dinner once I got settled.<br /><br />Kokua Food Co-op also welcomed me with open arms. It’s a small neighborhood co-op and deli. The volunteers seemed to be mostly senior citizens. In the past, I have typically veered toward younger friends, because it seemed I had more in common with them than with people my age or older. Often I have found progressive white boomers exhausting and exasperating, because they are often entrenched in white saviorism and unconscious white supremacy, without an adequate analysis of patterns of power and harm. But here, in Hawai`i, many folks in their 50s and 60s+ seem to be a lot like me. Of course, the capitalism that defines our society still painfully prevails. But here at the co-op, I’m hopeful I can find folks who prioritize community over profit. <br /><br />Today I went to the People’s Open Market, just 2 blocks from my home. These markets were started in the 1970s as a way to promote healthy local eating, and support local farmers, while selling discounted fruits and vegetables. I picked up some inexpensive daikon and papayas, and plan to make ggakdugi later this week. Also, I found the compost bin at the local community gardens. Even though I am far down on their waiting list to get a plot of my own, I can certainly contribute to their beautiful compost pile. <br /><br />Another small victory resulted from my ask to the Facebook “Buy Nothing” group, listing the household items I am seeking. I don’t want to fill my apartment with new Walmart and Target shit produced overseas. I’d rather re-use and re-purpose what others no longer need, and spend my dollars somewhere it can support local community. One person is offering a batch of mason jars, another a small rug, someone has 50 clothes hangers to give away, and another person has pots and plants.<br /><br />I feel encouraged that I will be able to create a healthy, sustainable life in this new/old city. Fuck Costco. Hello, neighbors!<br /></p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-28791689975755705412021-12-20T19:44:00.000-05:002021-12-20T19:44:46.129-05:00An Apprenticeship with `Aina<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3FK2JSq-Kf23GR3UYx8SUwKlX6MsML9jDA8saXZeN1zF36sELsu9suz_f7zd8yAM-lPxVpIaVkBIPXGFaZGokeXVlgX82KyDsRWsDaoOQdlQNIol7X-1lDwgFc51fp9asN2kQSgfnL6aCRkM4-8JxOwouDT_TGdMdOoi5x2LNkZfheDyhnWmYif5vNg=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3FK2JSq-Kf23GR3UYx8SUwKlX6MsML9jDA8saXZeN1zF36sELsu9suz_f7zd8yAM-lPxVpIaVkBIPXGFaZGokeXVlgX82KyDsRWsDaoOQdlQNIol7X-1lDwgFc51fp9asN2kQSgfnL6aCRkM4-8JxOwouDT_TGdMdOoi5x2LNkZfheDyhnWmYif5vNg=w417-h313" width="417" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.tripadvisor.com/Attraction_Review-g60590-d11897697-Reviews-Haena_Beach_Trail-Keaau_Island_of_Hawaii_Hawaii.html">Ha`ena Beach</a>, Kea`au, Hawaii<br /></td></tr></tbody></table> </p><p>I left my home city of Detroit with nothing on my keychain. No house, no car, no keys. Modernity made it relatively simple to journey across a continent and an ocean. Instead of taking months or years to travel by foot and boat, I simply shelled out the money to jump on airplanes, and my belongings will be flown over later by the US Postal Service. <br /><br />My first initiation into this new stage of my life was shedding of my belongings, giving everything away that I could possibly part with. This took months, and still I was left with 18 boxes of drums, yoga props, books, and clothes. I still have not completed going through photos, and seemingly endless files, the bane of a writer’s life. Not only did I have to shed material belongings, I had to bid farewell to many loved ones, dear friends, teachers, and students. I had to cut short my apprenticeship to Detroit, with so many lessons still remaining, and so many projects left incomplete. My long journey from Detroit to Chicago to Los Angeles to Hilo was devoted to emotionally processing, grieving, and simultaneously closing and opening doors.<br /><br />My first morning on the island began with rainfall, as it typically does. I borrowed an umbrella and ventured forth. My senses opened up to receive the overwhelmingly lush stimuli, such a far cry from the dormant winter landscape of upper Midwestern North America. Bird calls I did not recognize, plants I am just getting to know, unfamiliar fragrances, a different rocky soil under my feet. <br /><br />Even though I lived here as a child, and I have been back numerous times to visit my children and grandchildren, I felt like a newcomer to the land. I brought tobacco from Waawiiyaataanong, my former home. I sprinkled it at the roots of trees as an offering, I walked across volcanic rocks and gave it to the crashing waves of the Pacific Ocean.<br /><br /><i>To the spirits of the land, the trees, the animals, and the ocean,<br />Greetings from Waawiiyaataanong.<br />I come in service and goodwill.<br />I ask to be in relationship with you.<br />I ask you to receive me.<br />I ask you to teach me how to be your faithful student.<br />I ask for your guidance.<br />I promise to take care of you, and ask you humbly to take care of me.<br />I hope to live out my earthly time on these islands,<br />and I gently ask for your permission to be here in intimate relationship.<br />Please teach me how to be a loving servant to the `aina, and all living beings of the islands.<br />Please teach me how to honor the indigenous people of this land.<br />Please teach me how to tread lightly on the land, and be in loving service.<br />I know I will make many mistakes, and that my presence will inevitably be harmful. <br />Please help me learn how to minimize harm, and live harmoniously with the land, water, people, and all beings.<br />I ask you to nourish me, and teach me how to sustain myself, lovingly giving and receiving.<br />May it be so.<br /></i><br />When I arrived in Detroit in 2013, Grace Lee Boggs asked me, “Why are you moving here?” I answered, ”To join the revolution.” White folks, entrepreneurs, and artists were bombarding the city, often to the detriment of communities. Many were coming for cheap rents or to purchase property or to start a business they couldn’t afford in their former cities. Instead, I made a commitment to be part of the fabric of community already here, and not to come as a colonizer. But old habits die hard, having grown up in imperialist white supremacist patriarchy, and I had my hand slapped a number of times when I did not adequately wait, listen, and respect the will of Detroiters themselves.<br /><br />Detroit taught me how to be in community, how to apprentice myself instead of coming with answers and solutions. Detroit taught me how to consult and listen to elders, and what it means to be an elder. Detroit taught me how to be part of the land and water, how to share it, how to listen to it, and nurture it. At the energy vortex of several Great Lakes, and a national border, Detroit is a hub and crossroads for every type of being and interaction. Detroit paved the way for me to move back to the islands, as an adult, this time.<br /><br />My second initiation back to the islands occurred three days after arrival. My daughter, Katja, and I decided to walk to the nearest beach from her house. The maps app told us it would take 1 hour, about a 3 mile walk. No problem. I put on my swimsuit, a wrap skirt and tshirt over it, and my sturdy walking “slippahs.” My daughter said, “It might be muddy, you might want shoes.” But I didn’t own any hiking shoes and I said, “I’ll just wash off in the ocean.”<br /><br />Ha. Famous last words. Midwestern mainland mud doesn’t even begin to compare to Big Island mud. Not to mention the wildly uneven terrain of volcanic rock and roots of trees in the dense rainforest. I felt ridiculous holding up my skirt, skipping from rock to rock and over roots. Several times I miscalculated and sloshed down into mid-shin mud. Several times I lost a slipper and had to drag it out of the mud. I won’t even mention the mosquitoes. Any number of times I could’ve slipped and fallen. It’s only by the grace of the gods I made it through the rough trail. <br /><br />Finally the trail opened up to a remote, empty beach, with breakers slowing down the waves to a gentle ripple at low tide, and a narrow strip of black and gray sand. My feet practically cried stepping into the soft yielding warm sand. The tiny bay was the meeting place of a river and the ocean, and the water currents flowed between the warmed ocean water and chilled mountain spring water.<br /><br />I laid down on the sand and looked up at the cloud-dappled sky and the waving palms. “This is what it must feel like to be dead,” I announced to Katja: unbelievable beauty, calm, and ease, having gone through an ordeal, probably much more harrowing than my short hike, and a feeling of joy mixed with the grief of having left behind so much that you love.<br /><br />After a swim and a delicious meal of leftovers, chips, and sliced mango, we decided to make our way back home before the predicted rain started. As we retraced our steps, each footfall became a prayer. Instead of <i>shit, damn, fuck</i>, I decided to say <i>yes, thank you, please, I am here, I am listening, I am receiving</i>. After a while, I started to use each step to bless the earth, to caress the stones, to send love to the `aina. It was still arduous, and I still fell in the mud once or twice. One false move and an injury could have required an airlift rescue, which happens frequently in Hawai`i. Thank god for my yoga practice and the moderate strength and balance I’ve managed to maintain.<br /><br />When we got home, I had to wash off my slippers several times, scrubbing them with gravel and rainwater. Even after soaking in the bath, I could not get all the mud off the cracks in my feet and in my toe cuticles.<br /><br />I asked the `aina to teach me. I am receiving my lessons. There will be many more to come.<br /><br />#####<br /><br />For those who’ve expressed a desire to come and visit me here, here are some recommendations:<br /></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Right where you are, honor your own land, and seek to be in harmonious relationship with all the beings of your land.</li><li>Learn as much as you can about your desired destination: history, politics, flora and fauna, language, etc. Read articles and books, listen to podcasts, ask questions.</li><li>Create an altar of images or symbols of the desired destination. Consult with the spirits of this place, and request consent to be on this land. Express your intention for this journey. Wait and listen.</li><li>If you feel a resonant “yes,” make plans to come in a responsible and respectful way. Bring with you an offering for the `aina. Include an offering for the indigenous people of the islands.</li><li>When you arrive, make a point, as soon as possible, to engage intimately with the land and waters. Create your own prayer and ritual of exchange.</li><li>Create opportunities to be in community, and to contribute your time and energy, which could include financial reparations. Come to be in relationship and reciprocity. </li><li>Whenever possible, support the local economy and local people. Do your best to avoid exploitative, tokenizing, racist businesses, institutions, and platforms.</li><li>Be humble and modest. Come to learn and to serve. </li></ul><p style="text-align: left;"></p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-79493849196746297532021-11-25T08:56:00.001-05:002021-11-25T08:56:54.965-05:00Thanksgrieving<p><a href="https://www.facebook.com/taddy.mista/posts/10159324459825272" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="778" data-original-width="898" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2stcFn8NmvDqF6A2iFjYRnSnAt0FTyyz9AcvR1WI5UaTFBq-j_TIt1pde77qGDNbqQ8KhVpQplTF5_igm4fcOxLDa1uSyHMyin9xxPlxQkFYeVzbUgTrKrlCaEN6FuvHIXlcSOCZtUQbf/w200-h173/Screen+Shot+2021-11-25+at+8.00.45+AM.png" width="200" /></a> <br />THANKSGRIEVING<br /></p><p>i am just beginning to dip my toes<br />into the ocean of grief<br />my parents tried to protect me from<br /><br />no longer here to shield me<br />no children i have to tend<br />i peer into the waters<br />and begin to wade in<br /><br />mmmmm, with cross-lateral arm strokes<br />forward and back<br />the water is ice-cold <br />but underground springs spurt volcanic hot currents<br /><br />this is the suffering i have put aside<br />in order to proceed <br />chopping wood, carrying water<br />ever mouths to feed<br />gas tanks to fill<br />compost to turn over<br /><br />i have listened to your stories of suffering<br />and held them in my body<br />believing they took precedence over mine<br />as if grief is finite<br />i used up my quota of grief on others<br /><br />but now<br />waking from sleep<br />or chopping vegetables<br />or humming on my exhales<br />my own ancestors peek through<br />lifting the curtain to enter<br /><br />true grief is abundant<br />wraps around us like river currents<br />grief begets more grief<br />like rivers flow into oceans <br />and oceans flow into other oceans <br /><br />grief tenderizes rage<br />keeps me on my knees<br /><br />healing has become commoditized<br />sold to the highest bidder<br />as if reparations can satiate my grief<br />as if the brittleness of justice is adequate<br /><br />give me the temporality of justice and repair<br />but let me stay here <br />in my ocean of grief<br />knowing it will never be commercialized<br />nor subjected to the ravages of capitalism<br /><br />grief is an elder to healing<br />we cannot heal until we have wept each other’s tears<br />i absorb your grief and mine<br />like the wetland absorbs the hurricane<br />like the willow tree flails and dances through the storm<br /><br />no one has exclusive rights<br />or a trademark for grief<br />no one queues for grief<br />all our ancestors call through the ether<br />in many tongues that i have come to understand<br /><br />may it wash over me<br />may it flow through me<br />may we weep oceans<br />may we bathe ourselves in one another’s grief<br />and hold each other with tenderness<br /><br /></p><p></p><br />hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-58757413844090771102021-11-08T10:39:00.000-05:002021-11-08T10:39:35.576-05:00A Humble Request<p>Beloved Iyengar Yoga Detroit Collective Community, <br /><br />I have been unspeakably blessed with our beautiful community. I am so deeply grateful to each person who has helped to build and evolve it. I will be departing in 1 month for my new home in Hawai’i. I will continue to teach weekly online, conduct study groups, and continue to be a worker-owner from afar. I plan to return to Detroit twice each year to conduct study intensives and daily classes. <br /><br />Here is my tentative teaching schedule as of January 3, 2022 in Hawai`i Standard Time (UTC-10) unless otherwise noted. Convert to your time zone <a href="https://www.worldtimebuddy.com/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br /><br />Sundays, 7-9am HST, Level 2<br />3rd Sunday, 3-4pm ET, IYDC Yoga Philosophy (Iyengar: His Life and Work)<br />3rd Sunday, 7-8:30pm ET, IYDC BIPOC Study Group (My Grandmother’s Hands)<br /><br />Mondays, 4-5:15pm HST, Level 1B<br />Mondays, 5:30pm HST, Level TBD<br /><br />Tuesdays 7-9am HST, Led practice<br /><br />1st/3rd Wednesdays, 8-9pm ET, BIPOC Apprentice check-ins<br />2nd/4th Wednesdays, 8-9pm ET, Mentee assessment prep check-ins<br /><br />Thursdays, 9am HST, Level TBD<br />Thursdays, 6:30-8pm ET, IYDC Common Ailments (formerly Yoga Therapy)<br /><br />2nd Fridays, 7:15-9:15pm ET, IYDC Pedagogy Study Group<br /><br />2nd Saturdays, 11am-2pm HST, Monthly Āsana/Prānāyāma Workshop<br />4th Saturdays, 6:30-8:30pm ET, IYDC Yoga in Society Study Group<br /><br />I have been happy to teach, especially since the pandemic, for nominal pay. I have thrived with a strong roof over my head, an abundance of nutritious and homegrown food, a generous community of friends, and none of it has required very much money.<br /><br />However, to be perfectly honest, I will be needing a much stronger flow of income once I move to Hawai’i on December 14.<br /><br />I have gladly led study groups, taught workshops, taught Community Gift classes, participated in committees, held office hours, provided consultations, and mentored teachers and apprentices for little to no pay. My particular skills, honed over many decades–teaching, writing, caregiving, holding space–do not translate to high pay under capitalism.<br /><br />As I transition to life in Hawai’i, I come to ask you to financially support me to any degree that is right for you. I will continue to follow my dharmic path no matter what, and give all I can to our community. Your financial support will not define my relationship with you, nor will it determine my teaching and mentoring commitments. <br /><br />Some of you already support my work monthly as Teacher Education Subscribers. Thank you! I appreciate your continued and/or increased support as I relocate.<br /><br />If you can offer <a href="https://accesstoinsight.org/lib/authors/various/wheel367.html" target="_blank">dāna</a> each month, beginning in January, that will make it much easier for me to devote myself to the yoga path and continue my work. As a full-time teacher over the past 20 years, I have sometimes taught up to 12-13 āsana classes each week, and I am prepared to do so once again if required. However, if financially possible, I would prefer to teach 6 or fewer āsana/prānāyāma classes/week, while continuing the monthly workshop, study groups, BIPOC Apprentice Program, mentoring, and continue to serve as an IYDC worker-owner on several committees.<br /><br />If possible, I would prefer not to open a separate Patreon account for myself. Instead, I prefer to ask you, as a practice of sovereignty, to take it upon yourself, if you choose to donate, to use the payment method of your choice and give monthly (Venmo @PeggyKwisuk-Hong, Cash App $gwiseok, PayPal to friend at paypal.me/gwiseok, Zelle kwisuk63@gmail.com).<br /><br />If it’s easier to conceive of paying me as a transaction for services provided, here is an itemized budget:<br /> </p><p>Teacher Education Subscription: Community Gift $50-200/month<br /></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Pedagogy Study Group, 2 hours monthly, $20-40/session</li><li>Yoga in Society/Philosophy Study Group, 2 hours monthly, $20-40/session</li><li>Monthly Āsana and Prānāyāma Workshop, 3 hours monthly, $20-60</li><li>IYDC Yoga Philosophy Study Group, 1 hour monthly $10-20</li><li>IYDC BIPOC Study Group, 1.5 hours monthly, $15-25 <br /></li><li>Email, text, and phone consultations, as needed, $100-150/hour</li></ul><p style="text-align: left;"><br />As further incentive, I plan to rent a 2 bedroom apartment, so that I can host visitors. A friend of my son is willing to rent her beautiful unit to me at a steep discount short term. I will need cooperative rental assistance in order to afford this $1500/month unit (normally $2300–argh!). If you would like to visit me for 1-4 weeks of intensive study and practice, please consider paying into this cooperative housing plan at an additional $50-100/month.<br /><br />Thanks for supporting me in my continued growth, as I strive to come ever more into right relationship, with the planet, with the land, with the practice of yoga, with each other, and all beings.<br /><br />Namaskar,<br />hgs<br /><br /></p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-81603962641441225122021-11-07T21:46:00.000-05:002021-11-07T21:46:14.273-05:00 Finding Home, Making Home<p style="text-align: left;"><i></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i></i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0DSwr5RWjwOpLdkW-8RYP1SZ24xK5YR-YF4YtJgLhCKf5zLNVjFKlmUnodeA6_QgZYOpdo2klzpzxgLQyj21b2dKJ-ytbvR5IkuEYPwQPH0JYpHUgScEf8Y3aZWKrA9CqAWC8Xhhp523K/s2048/B9DF9546-D941-490E-8B5C-AA5960124936.heic" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="359" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0DSwr5RWjwOpLdkW-8RYP1SZ24xK5YR-YF4YtJgLhCKf5zLNVjFKlmUnodeA6_QgZYOpdo2klzpzxgLQyj21b2dKJ-ytbvR5IkuEYPwQPH0JYpHUgScEf8Y3aZWKrA9CqAWC8Xhhp523K/w270-h359/B9DF9546-D941-490E-8B5C-AA5960124936.heic" width="270" /></a></div><i></i><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i> </i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3dMyPx08hNl6ufbFzOBLd3UemevmBWp_kNepwjhu21_mNnYvRuKiKfEbu6Tcbogh7ZxgxAFZb_n9KBDKDD9i7bW5oBTEhFsTsHmRHyqkGNjzNwSiZ3UbLdjUpm4_KFWsNlnvLRSTQBBAm/s2048/BE16FB97-DAE4-4410-B864-DC6AEF892014.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3dMyPx08hNl6ufbFzOBLd3UemevmBWp_kNepwjhu21_mNnYvRuKiKfEbu6Tcbogh7ZxgxAFZb_n9KBDKDD9i7bW5oBTEhFsTsHmRHyqkGNjzNwSiZ3UbLdjUpm4_KFWsNlnvLRSTQBBAm/w268-h356/BE16FB97-DAE4-4410-B864-DC6AEF892014.jpeg" width="268" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i> </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>“I’ve written a whole book on home and I still don’t know what it is.” ~ Bayo Akomolafe</i><br /></div><p><i><br />“If you want to fly, you have to give up the things that weigh you down.” ~ Toni Morrison</i><br /><br />I come from serially displaced people. Koreans take great nationalistic pride in their “purity,” and are dismayed to find out their racial and ethnic make-up is an amalgam of many peoples from many lands who criss-crossed the peninsula in the name of empire, adventure, accident, and plunder. More recently, my parents left Korea in the aftermath of war. A proxy war between two aspiring superpowers and their ideologies, it devastated the peninsula, divided it arbitrarily in half, and impoverished it in the wake of genocide.<br /><br />My parents ultimately embraced the occupying power, as all good survivors know instinctively to do, and brought their three children to the far fringe of the USA, Honolulu, Hawai`i, to suck on the teat of American empire.<br /><br />Torn from a primary caregiver, my maternal grandmother, and the land of my ancestors, and my mother tongue, I floated along, adapting with vigor. I entered school and quickly learned English and pidgin, leaving Korean behind. Whatever sadness I experienced at this rupture I learned to bury, and move on.<br /><br />I experienced further trauma when our family left the islands in 1975 seeking better research opportunities for my father at University of Buffalo. Overnight I became Asian, other, strange, alien, and fugitive, in the 7th grade. Desperate for some sense of belonging, I developed armor, practicing making fun of myself. I learned to wear pantyhose, feather and curl my straight hair, and start to speak with curled r’s.<br /><br />Since then I’ve made my home in many places: New York City, Nashville, Milwaukee, Detroit, and finally, I’m circling back around to Honolulu.<br /><br />This morning I said goodbye to a home in Detroit, a year-long housesitting gig for my dear friend Adela, who is now based in Puerto Rico. It was not my intention to live alone in the large duplex for the entire year. Honestly I’ve never lived alone. I went from living with my parents to living in dorms and apartments with friends, then having my own family in my own home. After my young adult kids left home, so did I, embarking on a new stage of my life, living in house-share cooperatives and intentional communities.<br /><br />Once I overcame my resistance to living alone, I savored it. I ate when I felt like eating, I cleaned when I felt like cleaning. I kept all the lights off and used a single candle. I drummed at all hours, turned music up whenever I wanted. My main room was my yoga room, stripped of all furniture. The whole house was my dance floor, the houseplants my witnesses. I didn’t realize how much I had conformed myself to the needs of others until this year. I experienced deep healing in this house, in this pandemic year, and I will be forever grateful.<br /><br />Now, as I prepare, at age 58, to make a new permanent home in Hawai`i, I am relinquishing this house, and so much more. I am determined to whittle my material life down to a dozen boxes, to ship to the island.<br /><br />I have been gradually dissolving the library that had me bound for decades: small press poetry, politics and social commentary, Korean language and history, yoga and healing.… In waves, I have given away hundreds of books, and I still have more to release. Yesterday, I took four boxes of books to the free store at the recycling center. A feeling of loneliness swept over me as I stacked the books on the shelves. Who the hell is going to appreciate these literary works? Avant garde poetry, experimental fiction, and essays? Many are first edition, small press, out of print. Many are signed and have personalized inscriptions to me. Yet I cannot keep hanging on to them. They hold me back, saying, “stay, stay, hold me, turn my pages, keep me.” But as long as I hold on, my arms are full, and I cannot embrace the new.<br /><br />It’s not just the books. It’s clothing: hand knit sweaters by my mother, a cashmere vest of my father’s, silken hanboks, myriad scarves–many gifted or inherited. It’s artwork–by me, my children, and friends. And endless photos, and albums from back in the day.<br /><br />Worst of all, the notebooks. What was I thinking, writing all this shit down? What do I do with them now?<br /><br />On the car radio, I heard a piece about a junkyard in Chicago, where the remains of significant historic buildings are piled up. You can see bits of beautiful architectural landmarks peeking out of the rubble. That’s what it felt like to see my formerly treasured, carefully curated books on the shelves at the recycling center, randomly stacked.<br /><br />All the parts of my life are open to review and renunciation now. All my identities. Remember “Peggy Hong”? The poet? The wife? From Milwaukee? Remember Hong Gwi-Seok? The daughter? Teacher? Caregiver? Activist? Detroiter? Remember when I shaved my head? The Badass Yoga Nun? In Hawai`i I will be Halmoni, Aunty Peggy, and Mom.<br /><br />In this grieving process, past, present, and future flow together, weave, and blend. Who am I outside of time? Who am I without my identities and their markers?<br /><br />This morning I swept clean every room of the upper flat I had been occupying. I opened the windows and smudged each room clean with tulsi and sage, singing, crying, and praying. <i>May we all move on, with grace, trust, and love. May all spirits be released and liberated. May we all joyfully enter the next stage of our lives. May this house be a blessing for the new family. </i>My final gesture was harvesting a handful of onions from the garden, resplendent with green stalks despite the recent frost.<br /><br />I’ve released so much, but there is still so much more to go. We cannot force or rush grief. I touch and stroke each piece of paper, each photo, each article of clothing. Keep, give away, recycle, or landfill? Some pieces I come back to three times, six times, ten times, undecided. Some pieces I photograph for a digital archive.<br /><br />I remind myself that the objects have their own lives, outside of me. I attempt to shed my anthropocentric, Judaeo-Christian, capitalistic notions of ownership. My books at the recycling center will continue their existence, even if they are discarded, burned, or destroyed. They are artifacts of a stage of my life that is now over, and artifacts of an author’s particular expression at a particular time. Aside from the raison d’être of the book itself, it exists as paper and cardboard, made from trees, and it will, like every object and embodied being, return to the earth and be composted. If we’re lucky, we will all ultimately feed the soil, beetles, rhizomes, worms, and bacteria. <br /><br />When identity through objects is shed, what is left? </p><p>The practice.<br /><br />Just what do I practice? Leaning into the unknown. Failing with magnificence. Dissolution of egoic attachments. Asking questions with no clear answers. Change as the only constant. I utilize the body, sound, image, breath. All of these modalities are available to me at all times, and have nothing to do with my possessions. This is how I find home, and make home.<br /><br /></p><p></p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-87195009532879008172021-10-20T22:38:00.010-04:002021-10-21T00:03:57.318-04:00Aloha `Āina<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRSV_jFz9X5zkXWOTKoqgmYX_jA_YWDqIx-GXtXm8FvL7DL8IoFFAhXpVjIf4komsnkrNcSu2v-K3-v34wAfYQNHY-3n2h9NyYCHXz5AryxdZsj2FjWDAR0BkhyOC-ayhRcQ_jdrvLxBwn/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="988" data-original-width="1108" height="347" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRSV_jFz9X5zkXWOTKoqgmYX_jA_YWDqIx-GXtXm8FvL7DL8IoFFAhXpVjIf4komsnkrNcSu2v-K3-v34wAfYQNHY-3n2h9NyYCHXz5AryxdZsj2FjWDAR0BkhyOC-ayhRcQ_jdrvLxBwn/w389-h347/Screen+Shot+2021-10-20+at+10.25.09+PM.png" width="389" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><p>I stayed up well past midnight last night, caught in endless clickbait of …… Hawai`i real estate porn. It culminated in a minor obsession with a 2-acre farm in Waipahu, with a house, mature fruit trees, off-grid with solar panels, and more. So what if they were asking $900,000? That’s a bargain on the island, and isn’t this exactly what I had been wishing for? <br /><br />I forced myself to close the screen and go to bed. All night long I dreamt of the farm, and my dream journey took me all the way from conversation with the owners, to a path to cooperatively finance the purchase, and plans to build a retreat center. The dream brought me full circle: a retreat center for whom? Tourists??!? <a href="https://www.huffpost.com/entry/hawaii-land-westernization_n_5afc9c72e4b0a59b4e003a35" target="_blank">When so many Indigenous Hawai`ians will never be able to own the land they came from?</a><br /><br />When I awoke to the light of day, everything became crystal clear: NO, I was not going to buy the farm, or buy any land. Even if I did have a million dollars.<br /><br />The morning clarity snapped me back to my values and ethics through the concept of `āina: the land. <a href="https://www.oha.org/aina/" target="_blank">`Āina is not real estate</a>. It is the living, pulsing land itself, which is the basis of all life. `Āina is land as being. <br /><br />Even though I have childhood roots in Hawai’i, I am not Native. My family, who came as settlers, albeit in the aftermath of war on the Korean peninsula, gave up any legal ties they had to the land decades ago. I come with no claim to the land.<br /><br />The best I can do is return to my childhood home in the spirit of aloha `āina: in loving and humble service–kuleana–to the land and all its beings. My grandchildren are an embodiment of `āina, and will largely be my focus on the island. The spirit of aloha is created through relationships.<br /><br />When I moved to Detroit in 2013, I made a commitment to come in the spirit of solidarity, and to be part of the fabric of community, already rooted here for centuries. I vowed not to come as a colonizer, to grab land, impose myself, nor exploit the community. I have done my best to be a student, to be of use, share my resources, and live my most authentic life. The generosity, which is the spirit of Detroit, has allowed me to do the work I love–teaching, caregiving, growing food, cooking, making, studying, building community–while requiring very little money. Even though I have lived below the poverty line, my life has overflowed with abundance. This has been tremendously healing for me.<br /><br />I hope to bring that spirit to Hawai`i. I have so much to learn and unlearn, and remember. As I study the maps, cellular memories are coming back to me: Amana Towers–the high rise we lived in when we first arrived, and the pool across the street where I fell in; the parking lot of Mānoa Elementary where we spent recess; the sloping back yard of our house and the plumeria, gardenia, and so many kinds of ferns; the fishing spot where my brother used to go.<br /><br />I need to immerse myself back into the land, back into the culture, reconnect with ohana (family), and build relations with my new ohana. I need to literally have my feet back on the land, feel the breeze, smell the plant life, immerse myself in the waters, and live among the people. This is how I can practice right relationship with the land. Will I eventually own property there? I don’t know. I must reknit the fabric of relationship to the people and the land, before I attempt to claim property of my own. <br /><br />Anyway it’s not like I have deep pockets to draw from. When I made the decision in 2010 to take the path of a renunciate, I made the vow that I would live and die in the hands of community. If I had something to offer that was needed, I trusted that community would support me. When I eventually arrive at a day when that support vanishes, it’s a signal that my work is complete. Perhaps there will be opportunity for community-based cooperative ownership of property in the spirit of aloha `āina one day. As the African proverb says, “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” I’ve already wasted much of my life rushing and going fast. It’s now time to slow down, and go together.<br /><br />I also urge visitors to the islands to recognize and practice aloha `āina. Hawai`i is not your playground. Exactly the way some wealthy suburbanites come into Detroit for a ballgame or a concert or a wedding, without any connection or sense of responsibility to the people or neighborhoods, I feel strongly that we should not travel anywhere just for recreation, in a world so lopsided with disparities through the ravages of capitalism, colonization, and cultural appropriation. What are some ways to practice right relationship and pay reparations? <a href="https://www.afar.com/magazine/be-a-better-traveler-hawaii">Here</a> are some thoughts.<br /><br />The land has pulled me back down to earth. The avarice has settled. Capitalism says, <i>hurry, the competition is fierce, buy it while you can!</i> I will take my time. I will learn the land. I will step tenderly, carefully, intentionally–in service, healing, and love.<br /><br /></p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-31167301136248661572021-08-15T11:46:00.021-04:002021-08-15T11:59:36.863-04:00 Once a Settler, Always a Settler<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc-U5s-tPm4up12oDjalW8X0BjtR1sZ_xHwLVXD8GYrnlNH6OvLFUW4x2T6Xsxh92IqTEjDYc3-yO2YvnXxXx21nugYCfu32qXATFN_FGmNWbUyxy3MKCe1OlSKxgnA7W2aznluAOyiT9C/s1142/Screen+Shot+2021-08-15+at+11.52.10+AM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="824" data-original-width="1142" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc-U5s-tPm4up12oDjalW8X0BjtR1sZ_xHwLVXD8GYrnlNH6OvLFUW4x2T6Xsxh92IqTEjDYc3-yO2YvnXxXx21nugYCfu32qXATFN_FGmNWbUyxy3MKCe1OlSKxgnA7W2aznluAOyiT9C/s320/Screen+Shot+2021-08-15+at+11.52.10+AM.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>You could say “settler,” or you could say “foreigner.” Or you could say “outsider,” or you could say “alien.” As an obviously Asian person in Detroit, I am in the most extreme racial minority of this city.<br /><br />The nature of the Black community in general has been to welcome other marginalized folks into the fold. My experience has been that, once I demonstrated that I sought to be part of the solution and not part of the problem, I earned my solidarity stripes and was welcomed with open arms. Once my Black neighbors and colleagues could see that I was not there to extract, colonize, exploit, or dominate, but rather to be part of the fabric of community, they treated me as comrade and kin. As an Asian in Milwaukee and Detroit, I have been welcomed into many Black spaces, and many wonderful relationships.<br /><br />The Black community gave me a grounding I never received in the white communities I was surrounded by, once my family left our homeland of Korea, and the Asian enclave of Hawai’i. Like many middle class immigrants, my parents were coached to select white suburbs to raise their kids. White communities welcomed me too. But on an unspoken basis of: <i>you must help us enact our agenda.</i><br /><i><br />What agenda?</i> some might ask. The unspoken agenda of white supremacy, domination, and empire. I never heard these words, of course, and only well into my adulthood, after I’d married into the white community, and given birth to three children, was I able to put into words what I had discerned unconsciously. I was welcomed as an Asian in white society as long as I served as a wedge between white and Black, and helped to keep other Black and Brown folks at the bottom of the hierarchy, by assimilating into whiteness. The message from white society was, <i>you’re different. You’re like us. Come on in, but close the door behind you.</i><br /><br />The message from Black and Brown communities was, <i>lean in with us, and help us get this door open! </i>Or, <i>let’s build another door to a better place together,</i> or <i>let’s work to get back what was taken away from us</i>. Or simply, <i>let’s tap into the inherent joy and celebration that is our birthright</i>. Once I started to decolonize my mind and body, these projects as a way of life appealed to me far more than supporting the status quo of a racist society.<br /><br />Yet, on some deep human level, I will still be othered, by white and Black communities alike. I will still be seen as a consummate outsider. <br /><br />As I prepare to relocate to Hawai’i, where I was raised until my teens, I am once again feeling the discomfort of the settler, because I am not native Hawaiian. Meanwhile, East Asians comprise the ruling class, and many have enacted the agenda of white supremacy. White folks, haoles, comprise a minority in Hawai’i, but still represent much of the wealth, power, and leadership. Hawai’i is one of the most militarized and colonized places on earth. So what business do I have moving there?<br /><br />Once a settler, always a settler. My homeland was decimated and torn asunder by American empire. My father came to Hawai’i in an effort to provide a better life for himself and his family. In the process, my brothers and I lost touch with our indigeneity and mother tongue, and assimilated into America. <br /><br />Where is home now? In Korea, I am <i>gyopo,</i> a foreign Korean. My Korean is bumbling and childlike, and my ragtag clothes, tattoo, and long gray hair mark me as an obvious outsider. In Korea, I am perceived as American, and I come bearing my privilege, granted by the empire. <br /><br />In Detroit, I remain a perpetual outsider. I am “the Chinese lady,” “that Asian woman,” and more. Last night I walked into a memorial celebration for a childhood friend of Baba Baxter Jones, the disabled elder I help care for. As usual, I was the only Asian person in the room, and the only non-Black person. In such a situation, I am typically overlooked, ignored, and treated as a servant, as most caregivers are: we become invisible. But in my case, I become more visible, and possibly suspect, because of my unusual appearance. <br /><br />At this event, I was actually told by the hostess, the widow of Baba’s friend, to stop going up to the buffet. I had already gone up 4-5 times, because they only had three items that met Baba’s dietary needs, they were serving on small plates only, and I was trying to feed two people. I felt immediately confused and shamed, like a child, and was speechless. There were a hundred or more friends and family in attendance. Had someone complained about me? <i>That Asian lady has gone up 4 times….</i><br /><br />I had forgotten how much I stand out at such events. I was seen as an outsider. As a settler. In addition, caregiving, and the needs of people with disabilities, remains unseen and unacknowledged. The accommodation of allowing a caregiver to take multiple trips to the buffet to feed a PWD was not understood. In a city like Detroit where so much has been stolen: land, labor, water, and more….I was perceived as another taker.<br /><br />I am a settler in Detroit. I will be a settler in Hawai’i. I am a settler everywhere I go. Wherever I go, I will be occupying stolen land.<br /><br />The best I can do is try to be one of the “good” settlers, like Grace Lee Boggs, who came to join the labor movement, and lived in Detroit for 60+ years, rooted on Field Street, organizing, writing, teaching, and learning, instead of myriad other settlers who came to build their fame and fortune, by buying up swaths of cheap land, making sweetheart deals with city government, and extracting knowledge, labor, and other resources from multi-generation Detroiters.<br /><br />What will it mean to be a good settler in Hawai’i? Is it even possible? I take seriously the <a href="https://open.spotify.com/episode/2huUduxYaBSsxteA32h1lF?si=iMpO9w80TTe7Ex-jp0LioQ&dl_branch=1" target="_blank">words of Haunani-Kay Trask</a>, who points out that Hawaiians are not Americans. Americans appropriated and colonized the islands by military force. Americans are the enemy, and from the Hawaiian sovereignty perspective, are not welcome on the islands.</p><p><br />In every yoga class I teach, I have been offering a land acknowledgment, always closing with “We commit ourselves to coming into right relationship with the land, its people, and its spirits.” How do I make this meaningful, and not trite or rote? I embrace the overall commitment of the yogi to sovereignty, and see the practice as one that trains us to take charge of our own lives, exercise agency, and liberate ourselves, while supporting others in their own sovereignty and liberation.<br /><br />I must surrender to the land and its people and spirits, including my two grandchildren. I must be a steward and a servant. At the same time, in Hawai’i, I must also challenge and dismantle the privilege of being East Asian. What will these commitments look like? What will they consist of? Caught in capitalist society, I must also make my own living. How will I do this in ways that support sovereignty and not empire? <br /><br />I remain troubled. I have no choice but to embrace the contradictions I cannot escape. The same way that, if I wish to stay alive, I must ingest the life force of a plant or animal, I must also grapple with the issues of land, place, and settler colonialism everywhere I go. I hope you will be troubled alongside me. How do you practice right relationship with the land you are on, its people, and its spirits? <br /></p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-45026992300819889942021-06-16T07:15:00.006-04:002021-06-17T08:47:01.281-04:00A Sigh of Relief: Teaching a BIPOC Yoga Class<p>As a person of color in America, I am habituated to doing an unconscious audit of each room I enter. How many Black and brown faces do I see? How many people who look like me, an Asian? I habitually read the room to gauge my level of probable safety in that setting. <br /><br />All too often I am The Only One: the only person of color, and/or the only Asian person. This happens in many settings, and alerts me to be on guard, and to expect microaggressions. How much I am on guard may depend on the degree of familiarity with the others present, whether there are strong, consistent allies present or not, the reason for our gathering, etc.<br /><br />BIPOC often end up The Only One, or vastly outnumbered in Iyengar Yoga classrooms. The BIPOC who do show up are often the ones who have assimilated into white dominant culture, whether by choice, by necessity, or by default. I have routinely experienced racial aggression in these settings, both from members of the white dominant culture, and sometimes by BIPOC who may feel pressured to conform or remain silent.<br /><br />The nature of racial aggressions, whether micro or macro, is such that the casual observer may notice nothing out of step. But those of us who have heard or observed these things many, many times are extra sensitized and on high alert. Here are some examples of racial or other aggressions from Iyengar Yoga classrooms:<br /></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>A white teacher touches or strokes the hair of a Black student without invitation or consent. <br /></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>A white teacher displays “fawning” or tokenizing tendencies toward students coming from underrepresented communities, giving undue attention and compliments. <br /></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>During class, we hear two presumably Black people in a heated exchange outside. One white student offers to call the police. <br /></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>A white teacher repeatedly corrects a Black student’s buttock actions, implying that their body is not “good” or “right.” <br /></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>White students feel free to frequently interject, ask questions, and centralize themselves and their experiences. <br /></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>When George Floyd is murdered, your teacher says nothing about it at all. When a student asks for their counsel about it, they give a bland, canned response, indicating they had not prepared any kind of thoughtful response, despite their status as respected spiritual leaders in the community. <br /></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Teachers hold colleagues, students, apprentices, and mentees to expectations based on access to expendable funds, childcare, transportation, and other factors that may not be realistic. <br /></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>When you point out such examples to organizational leadership they respond with incredulity and denial. <br /></li></ul><p>For all these reasons, a BIPOC class may be welcomed by many practitioners. It’s one place where folks of color can be that much more relaxed. Already, āsana requires us to do difficult things that may be quite uncomfortable, new, or make us feel vulnerable and awkward. Already we may feel we have had to be polite, well-spoken, and obedient in white dominant culture. When we remove as many of the potential barriers as we can, we can be more present, with more ease.</p><p></p><p>I have been teaching BIPOC-only classes with great joy since the mid-2000s. Here are some things I’ve learned. </p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Excellent āsana instruction is not enough. Students who choose a BIPOC class often seek other kinds of support, guidance, and a sense of community from the teacher and other students. <br /></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Take a few minutes to help students down-regulate their nervous systems when they arrive. BIPOC have greater exposure to potential harm on a day-to-day basis than their white counterparts. It may take some time in Supta Baddha Koṇāsana, Supta Swastikāsana, or Supta Vīrāsana to finally relax. <br /></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Allow for some chitchat in the first 5-10 minutes. Take time for introductions and check-ins if the class is small enough. White supremacy emphasizes timeliness and productivity. An anti-racist yoga space understands that productivity cannot necessarily be quantified, and that there are many ways to be productive. <br /></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Consider incorporating a land acknowledgement at the beginning of class, to help students contextualize themselves in the karmic interweaving of our larger time and place. If we are not native to our land, we arrived as captives, refugees, or settlers. Whatever brought us to this place, we hope to evolve into right relationship with the people and spirits of the land. Take your time to develop your own ways and words of acknowledging the land. I like to tie it into the invocation to Patañjali, and talk about the lineage of teachings.* <br /></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Take time to explain why you are choosing certain poses, sequences, and set-ups, and what they have to do with being BIPOC. For instance, in Supta Baddha Koṇāsana, you could talk about how we often feel we need to protect or defend ourselves because of the racism we encounter or anticipate, and how expanding the heart/lung region and groins is an opportunity to let down our defenses and nurture ourselves. When practicing arm balances, you could discuss how empowered we feel when we can bear weight on our hands, as a reminder of our inner fortitude. <br /></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Put less emphasis on textbook execution of the poses, and more on the physical, emotional, and mental impact. Help students by offering individualized instructions (otherwise known as “corrections”) to promote well-being rather than correctness. For example, teach them how to straighten the front leg in Trikoṇāsana so that they can access the full length of the spine and protect the knee from hyperextension. <br /></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Feel free to reference current events, and how they relate to the practice of yoga. Connect the personal practice to collective liberation. For instance, we’ve discussed the current Covid-19 crisis in India, and talked about the reluctance of wealthy nations to share vaccines and technology, which is connected to the history of colonization. We’ve also discussed how our teachers are in India, and how much we all owe BKS Iyengar and his family, and when we do not give back to them in some form, that is appropriation. <br /></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Feel free to share poetry, music, prayers, quotes, and other sources of inspiration, and invite students to do the same. <br /></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Offer a flexible payment structure as an alternative to the capitalist habits which undergird systemic racism. Our economy has been built on exploitation of BIPOC. Allowing students to determine what they can pay through a sliding scale model teaches them how to practice financial sovereignty. Students take responsibility for both their own learning and their desire to support BIPOC teachers. Seek sponsors for the BIPOC class to lessen the financial burden—reparations! <br /></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Offer more opportunities to build BIPOC Iyengar Yoga community, such as book discussion groups, celebrations, potlucks, panel discussions, etc. They can be low-key, and community-led, so responsibility is shared. For instance, a member of our community asked to start a donation-based BIPOC reading group for Resmaa Menakem’s My Grandmother’s Hands. Since we already practice Iyengar Yoga as a form of “cultural somatics,” we gladly welcomed this offer. <br /></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Ask your white colleagues to do parallel anti-racist work among themselves. At Iyengar Yoga Detroit Collective, white teachers and students formed Ahimsa in Action, which meets twice a month to do anti-racist work together, and support each other in dismantling generations of white supremacy. Iyengar Yoga provides the perfect backdrop for this work, because we already have a common vocabulary, ethical philosophical foundation, and a somatic practice.<br /></li></ul><p style="text-align: left;">Every participant releases a big sigh when they enter a BIPOC-only space. We feel less guarded, and more welcome. Hopefully, we extend that sense of ease into other parts of our lives, so that we can help our society and culture evolve toward the beloved, equitable community we all seek.<br /><br />*Here is a sample land acknowledgement and invocation to Patañjali, but each person will do it differently, and vary it each time:<br /><i>As you feel the earth beneath you, acknowledge the beings of this land, human and non-human, past, present, and future. Here in ______, we honor the ________ people. Whatever brought us to this land, we commit to coming into right relationship with this land, its spirits, and its people. We also commit ourselves to coming into right relationship with the lineage of yoga, passed on through generations, as we acknowledge our teachers, and chant the invocation to sage Patañjali.</i><br /><br />More reading:<br /><a href="http://stillinsirsasana.blogspot.com/2015/05/yellow-black-brown-and-beautiful.html" target="_blank">Yellow, Black, Brown, and Beautiful</a> </p><p style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://stillinsirsasana.blogspot.com/2013/05/it-is-time_4.html" target="_blank">It is Time</a> <br /></p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-80482652177231214802021-04-23T07:43:00.003-04:002021-04-23T21:55:25.992-04:00HOW TO TAKE DOWN A DISABLED BLACK ELDER: VIDEO DOCUMENTATION<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="goog_1435359195" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1268" data-original-width="1946" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4vljuG72Z1Ifw1z0myxMrD9g_EAipbQVV3F16kmqA_yESZlnidUik6n9iVy0BLF6nnEyVBWFv-GfTjHcHv1G4Ewgw2it6xuF-QAdubpLY1RKC8jwEVwup1k7K9_YIR6W6_a1LxuVTTg2o/w416-h272/Screen+Shot+2021-04-23+at+6.48.58+PM.png" width="416" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="goog_1435359195"><br /></a><p><a href="https://www.facebook.com/OneMichigan/videos/719453185507150">https://www.facebook.com/OneMichigan/videos/719453185507150</a></p></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p></p><p> </p><p></p><p></p><p>The allegation of sexual assault being used to discredit Baba Baxter Jones is captured in this<a href="https://www.facebook.com/OneMichigan/videos/719453185507150/" target="_blank"> Facebook video.</a> Read my detailed commentary posted with the video on the Facebook link. Here are the key points:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>The assault is announced at 2:10, loudly and publicly. The person yelling is wearing a white visor, seems agitated, and is looking over her left shoulder. The assault apparently happened seconds ago ("That man just grabbed my ass..."). <br /></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Watch the video from about 1:58, pausing every second to view each frame. Pause at 2:01, when this person is 6-10 feet to the right of Baba Baxter. </li><ul><li>Note the movement and pace of the march, set by the chants and drums. </li><li><b>To drive the chair, Baba's (dominant) right hand must stay on the joystick. To move his hand off the stick would STOP THE CHAIR.</b> It would also require that those behind him stop, while everyone else kept walking. Power wheelchairs to do not have "cruise control" or "auto-pilot." The wheelchair user's hand must be on the joystick at all times to drive it.<br /></li><li> At 2:05, see this person walking forward diagonally to her right to report the assault. <br /></li></ul></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li> The march was paused from 1:13-1:30 to let marchers consolidate. The person making the allegation is standing behind the DWB sign, with Baba about 15-20' back (1:13).</li><ul><li>As the march restarts at 1:30, Baba's right hand remains on his chair for the remainder of the video.</li></ul></ul><p>In conclusion, as a survivor of sexual assault, I support and believe other survivors. <b>If the person in the video claims harm, it needs to be investigated, and the harming party held accountable.</b> In this case, it's physically impossible for Baba Baxter to have committed assault as alleged, while driving his chair. Meanwhile, the actual perpetrator has not been held accountable.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><p></p><br />hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-53306710591100501672021-04-23T06:40:00.001-04:002021-04-23T18:28:01.582-04:00HOW TO TAKE DOWN A DISABLED BLACK ELDER<p>Just how do you take down a disabled, Black, community elder activist? Read on.<br /></p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp4H6a3dNdsAmKyAQ9soX0Ho2yy2hYNncjsVQ38F1878Apa0KzKcgzXfNEM-U5r6dv145lO8wUUi74nPaL6BHSqUsfgDoyxSLHnePdaz6lGT1ELGDwjPUM1MaASgOuTNaKUguU9hzhpSKw/s1400/Screen+Shot+2021-04-21+at+10.11.21+PM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4VEvBTbqiuPMPc9YF7E1snN8Lm9Jq01PPNfX4wfU68SNiivnFpJGzw_SNS7ydhAE0qPCwhpYkcQOCT13q47W__ekzDU4n0dRC3leFQtBWPNuuvU2Zy6X7Tzey7rWHX1A9asezFLoo9ONu/s804/Screen+Shot+2021-04-22+at+6.52.35+PM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="804" data-original-width="478" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4VEvBTbqiuPMPc9YF7E1snN8Lm9Jq01PPNfX4wfU68SNiivnFpJGzw_SNS7ydhAE0qPCwhpYkcQOCT13q47W__ekzDU4n0dRC3leFQtBWPNuuvU2Zy6X7Tzey7rWHX1A9asezFLoo9ONu/s320/Screen+Shot+2021-04-22+at+6.52.35+PM.png" /></a></div></div><p><br />June 29, 2020<br /><br />It was the height of the Black Lives Matter protests. I was at home, for a respite from the urgency of the daily protests, when I received an alarming text from a friend: “Seems ______ is saying baba baxter touched one of "her youth" inappropriately at the march. Just look out. She actively, consistently targets activists. And I dunno what happened but I would expect a shit show.”<br /><br />I had just come home from the rally with Baba Baxter Jones to protest the recent police aggression against marchers in Southwest Detroit. I’d been attending marches for several weeks by now, and had come to see the young protesters like my own children. The night before, the police had responded with such violence that protesters could’ve easily been killed. As a survivor of multiple incidents of racist police brutality, Baba Baxter felt passionate about these marches and attended as frequently as possible. I participated with him once or twice a week, and other nights we asked allies, friends, and advocates to accompany him. <br /><br />A little later I went to pick Baba up from the march. Several march organizers waited with him, to help load him and his power wheelchair into the truck and trailer. He seemed confused and shaken up, and I told him about the heads-up text I received from our friend. “What happened?” I asked.<br /><br />Baba said, “I don’t know, it was really strange. This big guy came up to me during the march and he was trying to talk to me. I was distracted because we were chanting and yelling, and I was trying to steer the chair through the crowd. I couldn’t really hear him, but he said something like, ‘I know what you did back there.’ I didn’t know what he was talking about, and then he walked away.”<br /><br />When we got home, we started to piece together the situation:<br /></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>A youth* claimed Baba had touched her inappropriately. This was in the midst of a crowded street march, with hundreds of people around, with Baba flanked by organizers, while he was trying to navigate his power chair.</li><li>For some reason, Baba was being targeted as the perpetrator. The man who came up to him was an organizer with the group, One Michigan, that hosted the youth.</li><li>The allegation had already begun circulating through the community.</li></ul><p><br />I contacted some of the march organizers by text to warn them of the allegation. Several responded right away:<br /></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>“that’s insane - here for baba 100%!”</li><li>“People have troubling personalities that need energy work. Sorry this must be stressful AF. We don’t believe that of Baba ofc. Love to you and Baba.”</li><li>“I was next to baba the whole time I didn’t see him touch nobody inappropriately”</li></ul><p><br />As of that night we did not even know exactly what was alleged. <i>What kind of touch? When and where did it occur? Who was touched on what body part? Why did they think it was Baba? Who witnessed it? </i><br /><br />The likelihood of the allegation struck me as nearly impossible for many reasons:<br /></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>We’re in a pandemic, Baba is immuno-compromised, and strict about spatial distancing. No hugs, only elbow bumps, masked, no physical contact.</li><li>He’s acculturated march organizers to have wheelchairs in the front line as an accommodation for disability. It’s extremely difficult and stressful to navigate a wheelchair through a crowd, and nothing’s worse than getting bumped from behind by a wheelchair. For safety and practicality, it’s best to put wheelchairs in the front of the march. </li><li>Because he is always in the front line, he is flanked by organizers leading the march. On the night of the 29th, One Michigan stepped in front of DWB for one section of the march.</li><li>The power wheelchair makes Baba highly visible and impossible to hide, sneak around, or do anything illicit.</li><li>Baba has a spinal cord injury and nerve damage in his arms and hands. He can only reach out so far towards people around him. He maintains a space bubble around the chair. With his right, dominant hand he must steer the chair continuously. His right hand cannot ever leave the joystick while moving. His left hand can only reach so far, especially while he is in motion. The likelihood of touching someone, anyone, in any way, while driving the chair, in the midst of a crowded march, with his left hand, seems nearly impossible. Those who’ve never used a power chair should try this out themselves, while imagining they have a spinal cord injury and nerve damage that restricts both lower and upper body movement. Someone would’ve had to be practically leaning on his chair to even be accidentally brushed by his elbow, and this was unlikely at the height of a pandemic.</li><li>If such a touch occurred, wouldn’t there have been witnesses? Hundreds of people were marching, and Baba was smack in the middle of the street, surrounded on all sides by marchers.</li></ul><p><br />So many other questions arose: <i>Why did the youth think Baba touched them? Why didn’t the adults in charge discuss the allegation with Baba, aside from the brief, threatening, non-specific reference from the man who came up to him? Who else at the march that night knew about the allegation? Did anyone investigate the situation that night, to get to the bottom of it, and clarify exactly what happened? <br /></i><br />To me, it felt like there was clearly a misunderstanding of some sort, and that the youth may have been confused about exactly what happened. After all, it was a hot night, a tense situation, and a loud, shouting crowd of folks from disparate groups and identities moving through the streets. Trauma confuses our senses and perceptions, and impedes executive function. If I experience inappropriate touch in a crowd, it would be easy for me to blame the wrong person, or mistake an accident for an assault, or be triggered and relive a past trauma. As a child, I would hope that the adults in charge would recognize these possibilities and respond accordingly. If the adults had calmly and rationally investigated the situation right then and there, the damage could’ve been nipped in the bud.<br /><br />Inevitably in community organizing—especially when coalitions are rapidly assembling to address urgent issues—rifts, disagreements, and factions start to bubble up. Rumblings at the marches had been ongoing for a couple of weeks or so. This is human nature, and no big deal, but these conflicts and growing pains present necessary challenges to work through in mature and strengthening ways. <i>Was this allegation arising out of these rifts? Was Baba being scapegoated? </i><br /><br />I felt strongly that, for some reason, Baba was being singled out and attacked, and that he needed immediate protection. The following night, June 30, I was unable to accompany Baba to the march but a friend, a well-connected Southwest Detroit resident and indigenous healer, volunteered to be with him. I asked her to smudge and cleanse the space and the people around them, because it seemed apparent to me that a lot of messy, destructive energy was circulating. I advised Baba to speak out and ask for protection, and specifically to ask members of the safety team to march alongside him because he was being singled out and accused of perpetrating harm. But when he finally got a chance to speak, a Detroit Will Breathe organizer cut him short and would not let him finish, saying “Nobody is beyond reproach,” implying that the rumored allegation may have been true.<br /><br />The next day, July 1, Baba and I had a phone conversation with a DWB organizer, acknowledging the allegation of harm made against Baba. Baba and I immediately requested investigation, dialogue, and a restorative justice or mediation process to address the allegation. DWB agreed to the process, and asked that meanwhile, Baba stop attending DWB events. I suggested that if a cooling off period was desired, then One Michigan, responsible for making the allegation, should also stop attending DWB events. DWB disagreed, because the organization was part of their coalition, despite my argument that all coalition members needed to be held accountable.<br /><br />Days went by, and we received no word from DWB about the dialogue. I also reached out personally to One Michigan, by phone and email, and received no response. At a July 4 community event, we spotted members of One Michigan whispering to our friend, one of the event organizers. Later, my suspicion that they were spreading the allegation proved true, although our friend did not take the bait, and instead urged One Michigan to take it up with Baba, and seek mediation.<br /><br />The following week, On July 6, I urged Baba Baxter to start attending marches again, because they are public events, and one cannot be barred indefinitely from public events. On July 7, I reached out to DWB to reassert the need for dialogue. They responded that they no longer planned to pursue dialogue because the youth didn’t want to participate, and also because they took Baba’s presence at the July 6 march as a gesture of disrespect. They closed our text thread with “We are looking for ways to move forward and will keep you posted.”<br /><br />Baba and I took it upon ourselves to reach out to a member of the Detroit Safety Team, an experienced restorative justice facilitator, who agreed to facilitate a process between Baba and DWB. They reached out repeatedly to DWB that summer, who failed to follow through with the requests for information to get the RJ process started.<br /><br />It was getting clearer and clearer that DWB and One Michigan had little to no interest in resolving the situation.<br /><br />We thought the whole ordeal may have died a natural death, until a representative of DWB revived the allegation, through an email listserve to the Coalition for Police Transparency and Accountability. I responded to the message with clarifying information, reiterating the ignored requests for dialogue and investigation. CPTA agreed to support the process and help move it forward. We are currently in that process.<br /><br />Most recently, the allegation resurfaced on Facebook, in the context of the upcoming Michigan Democratic Party Disability Caucus elections, to argue against Baba Baxter’s campaign for Chair. This person even posted a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=719453185507150" target="_blank">video</a> in which a voice can be heard saying, “that man just grabbed my ass, in the wheelchair, he just grabbed my ass!” (2:10)<br /><br />Rewinding the video frame by frame reveals the implausibility of the allegation. Namely, the accusing party was diagonally to the right of Baba (2:01). <b>He could not be moving in his chair, and grabbing someone on his right at the same time. </b>Apparently the accusing party and those perpetrating the allegation do not understand how a power wheelchair works. It doesn’t have “cruise control” or “auto-pilot.” The wheelchair user’s hand controls the chair, which will only move when pressure is applied to the joystick. If the user moves their hand off the joystick, the chair comes to a complete halt. To “grab [someone’s] ass,” he would have had to stop completely to reach his right hand out. The youth would also have had to stop to be within reach. Everyone behind them would then be forced to stop, and they would have witnessed said assault.<br /><br />Baba keeps his water bottle and food bag hanging on the right side of his chair. <i>Did she brush against something and think it was a hand? Did someone else in the march assault her? </i>Who knows what she actually felt? But what is clear is: <b>Baba’s right hand was driving his chair the entire time, and that hand never left the chair, and the chair did not stop moving.</b><br /><br />I wish this kind of scrutiny and logic could have been applied much earlier. So much secondary harm could have been prevented.<br /><br />The elephant in the room is ableism. I wonder how much Baba Baxter’s disability consciously or unconsciously scared the youth and adults who alleged inappropriate touch? PWD (people with disabilities) are often objectified, and seen as deviants from the norm. PWD can elicit fear because they are othered, kept out of the public eye, and dehumanized. Seeing them reminds us of our own mortality and vulnerability. A wheelchair often elicits fear, especially a power chair which we perceive as a small motor vehicle. Just like racism, ableism shows up without our conscious realization. Like white supremacy, it is both the air we breathe and the water we swim in. Baba Baxter especially stands out as a Black man in a wheelchair, not to mention an assertive, visible, unapologetic Black man. He often elicits trepidation. Is it possible that this young person unconsciously projected such fears onto Baba, even if he never touched her, then told an adult, who may have taken her literally, without scrutiny? A conversation and investigation could’ve addressed all of this months ago.<br /><br />Meanwhile, none of us in good conscience can allow further assertions of this allegation. We must put it to rest immediately. At the very least we each need to view this video closely, understand the mechanics of a power wheelchair, and understand Baba Baxter’s physical disabilities. We need to actually investigate the harm the youth may have experienced that night. Unfortunately, DWB and One Michigan may have put more energy into assassinating Baba Baxter’s character than to conducting a proper sexual assault investigation. We need a clear, well-facilitated restorative justice process to address all harm. Unless and until we take these steps, true healing remains elusive.<br /><br /><br />*A subsequent Facebook post stated that “the youth” was not a minor as we were originally informed, but a 19 year-old young woman.<br /><br /><br /><br />ADDENDUM: Baba Baxter’s Personal Statement, July 8, 2020<br /><br />When Black lives are under attack ... What do we do..? What do we really do? Is that just a hollow meaningless chant that makes us feel good when we say it? How can we say Black lives matter, if we're not prepared to actually protect Black life? How do we really protect Black life? What do we really do? How are Black lives being attacked? Is it just the police or are they just a symptom of a much larger problem? <br /><br />George Floyd was a Black life. George Floyd was a Black man. The whole world watched in shock as George cried out for his mother, as his last breath was squeezed out of his helpless body. Why was George attacked? Why wasn't George protected? George was not the first Black life, or the first Black man to be attacked. He was not the first Black life or Black man to not be protected, or not matter. <br /><br />Black lives, and Black Bodies have always been under attack. Black men have never known what it feels like to wake up and not be under attack. Black men are always perceived to be the 800 lb gorilla in the room. Black men are taught at a very early age that you have to tiptoe through life like you're walking on eggshells. A Black man can never appear too aggressive, or assertive, or confident, or masculine, or any characteristic that might intimidate or threaten others, except if the other is another Black man. <br /><br />A Black man is conditioned to live in fear. Fear of himself, fear of other Black men, and especially fear of others who do not resemble Blackness. The mere presence of a Black man causes others to feel insecure. So how can a Black man matter, or be protected in a society that is conditioned to fear him, a society that targets him, and places a bullseye on his Black body from the moment he is born? When a Black man tries to protect himself he becomes the enemy, When you try and protect a Black man you become the enemy. <br /><br />This society was founded on the oppression of the Black man. This society with all of its -isms thrives on the oppression of the Black man. These -isms are structured and institutionalized. A Black man is always under attack, and forced to defend his very existence within these -isms. Society has carved out a place for the Black man and if he dares to step out of place he's punished. <br /><br />Now what if that Black life, that Black body is a Black Man, and Disabled? Now it becomes even more complicated because another -ism is attacking. It's called Ableism.*<br /><br /><br /><br /></p><br /><br />hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-85213091949401730442020-11-22T21:38:00.000-05:002020-11-22T21:38:47.128-05:00Mask Up! Building Personal and Collective Resilience Through Prāṇāyāma and Masks<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiP5Ll56eMGmHyzF3-a1aZW0nZTl3JClO4zUMPS97Aevym_XDlyhrPJj65eM6vgCqUA9RZY1RF1bAeWsc0jlBPChMRKJsvifLHa-d3FhikLxibRWKOt0vlyDDI1ZXihMkwAukaBg2VFRLE/s730/Screen+Shot+2020-11-22+at+7.56.14+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="83" data-original-width="730" height="67" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiP5Ll56eMGmHyzF3-a1aZW0nZTl3JClO4zUMPS97Aevym_XDlyhrPJj65eM6vgCqUA9RZY1RF1bAeWsc0jlBPChMRKJsvifLHa-d3FhikLxibRWKOt0vlyDDI1ZXihMkwAukaBg2VFRLE/w596-h67/Screen+Shot+2020-11-22+at+7.56.14+PM.png" width="596" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Patañjali yoga sutra
II.50: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">As the movement patterns of each
breath - inhalation, exhalation, lull - are observed as to duration, number,
and area of focus, breath becomes spacious and subtle. </i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">(~tr. Chip Hartranft)</span><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1sbtjOy1J-PVdncDDAMX2Id2Z-OZkTTo2VdCueZ7vz4SGstL610I5EsSH_ADHGzkfQBxpS3H2borTkQlWDJ9eCHVtzGe88tWkMyCyYs0JDVA3TlJg8DiCnDU_Xx66BFRh91XDxnT48mNl/s581/Screen+Shot+2020-11-22+at+9.37.21+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="581" data-original-width="454" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1sbtjOy1J-PVdncDDAMX2Id2Z-OZkTTo2VdCueZ7vz4SGstL610I5EsSH_ADHGzkfQBxpS3H2borTkQlWDJ9eCHVtzGe88tWkMyCyYs0JDVA3TlJg8DiCnDU_Xx66BFRh91XDxnT48mNl/s320/Screen+Shot+2020-11-22+at+9.37.21+PM.png" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The COVID19 pandemic has been a fascinating opportunity to
study the breath, immunity, and the nervous system, for Iyengar Yoga
practitioners like me.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Today in class, we explored the idea of breathing through
and with resistance. From a yogic, and general health, point of view, the nose
is the perfect instrument for breathing. The narrow passageways, the mucus
membranes, and the hair of the nostrils serve as filtration, cleaning the air
as we inhale. The nose creates a small amount of respiratory resistance, toning
the diaphragm and stimulating the <a href="https://www.differencebetween.com/difference-between-vagus-and-phrenic-nerves/">phrenic
and vagus nerves</a> as we inhale and exhale. <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S1286457920300800">Nitric
oxide accumulates in the sinuses, which plays an anti-viral role.</a></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Mouth breathing, on the other hand, allows us to gulp large
amounts of air, with little to no resistance, for instance after a sprint, when
we may need instant oxygenation. However, during more typical day-to-day
activities, mouth breathing can be very damaging, ranging from mild discomfort
like cotton mouth and chapped lips, to hyperventilation, anxiety, asthma symptoms,
sleep apnea, and more.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In today’s class, we added another layer of resistance
through twists, creating an uddiyana kriya-like situation, deliberately
restricting the movement of the diaphragm. We noticed how the abdominal twists
prevented the diaphragm from fully descending to let air into the lungs. Instead
of fighting the restriction, we practiced breathing into the resistance, and
the whole circumference of the waist in this position of confinement. We also
observed how the breath could be re-directed into the spaciousness of the
chest, while using auxiliary respiratory muscles such as the intercostal
muscles, and how even the arms could assist, by externally rotating to spread
the collarbones, descend the trapezius, and engage the shoulder blades into the
back ribs to assist the actions of the intercostals.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We explored this further in supine Ujjāyī, Viloma, and in
seated Ujjāyī with prāṇāyāma mudra. We finished with a prone Śavāsana, with a
narrow folded blanket under the navel, observing the breath in the back body
with a mild restriction in the front body.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As always, Iyengar Yoga invites us to observe what these
practices bring up in us physically, physiologically, mentally, and
emotionally. The breath is one of the most obvious and powerful tools we have
for self-observation, developing sensitivity and understanding, and eventually,
transformation and healing. We undergo immediate changes in breath, heart rate,
and body temperature when we experience stress of any sort, and we can bring
immediate change to our state by consciously altering the breath.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Today’s breathwork in particular created the opportunity to <a href="https://iythealth.com/increase-co2-body/">build carbon dioxide tolerance</a>.
When we’re stressed, we easily fall into a cycle of overbreathing, disrupting
the balance of O2 (ideally 94-96%) and CO2 (4-6%). If we have low CO2
tolerance, we feel we must breathe more, thus exacerbating the stress, and
perpetuating the cycle. However, we disrupt the cycle when we build up our CO2
tolerance, which allows us to stay calm even in the face of stress, and keep
our breathing at a normal level. In other words, CO2 tolerance teaches
emotional resilience.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This is where masks come in. Most of us have an
understandable natural resistance to masking up. It’s uncomfortable. It’s
binding. It’s clammy. It pulls on our ears and our hair. We feel we can’t
breathe. Some feel the economic impact of quarantine outweighs health hazards,
and even the ensuing loss of life, so masking represents a huge sociopolitical
and cultural divide.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Strong emotions may arise in some who refuse to mask: feelings
of constriction, suppression, suffocation that bring up the urge to fight back.
No one wants to be told what to do, especially folks who are not used to having
restrictions. In our society, that tends to be the people on the highest end of
the social hierarchy who have the most freedom: white folks. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As a person of color, an immigrant, and a woman, I’ve
understood from day 1, without even being told, that I had to mediate my
behavior, and that I could not bring my full self to every situation, and I
always had to have my guard up. I’ve also been a frequent traveler to India and
South Korea, where masking is part of the culture, mostly due to issues of air
pollution, but also as an act of social responsibility to prevent the spread of
illnesses.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What I now understand through the yogic physiology lens, is
that masking can raise our carbon dioxide level in our bloodstream, and unless
one trains oneself to tolerate such levels, we may experience discomfort, air
hunger, and a feeling of gasping. Do you remember that old school cure for
anxiety and stage fright? You were supposed to <a href="https://connect.uclahealth.org/2020/09/16/breathing-into-a-paper-bag-can-calm-anxiety-attack/">breathe
into a brown paper bag</a> until your breath settled down. When we panic, we
tend to hyperventilate: too much oxygen. Restricted breathing, into the paper
bag, still permeable (like a cloth mask), helps balance the O2 with CO2, tones
the diaphragm, and awakens the <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CH36vtZnTw_/">parasympathetic nervous system</a>,
which signals us to calm down and slow down.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We have to train ourselves to breathe softly, steadily, and
evenly through our noses as we mask. Most of us habitually overbreathe. We
increase lung capacity not by gulping huge amounts of oxygen, but by mediating
the breath, as yogis teach, through nasal breathing with soft inhales, exhales,
and periods of retention (breath holding). Prāṇāyāma involves conscious mitigation
of the breath so that we build up our CO2 tolerance, and balance our
sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems to create a calm and alert
state.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">All of us need to stay calm while protecting ourselves and
others through masking and distancing. Can we shift our perception of the mask
from an object of restriction into an object of liberation? If we experience
strain in it, can we understand that strain as a signal to shift the way we
breathe? To apply prāṇāyāmic principles and practice softer, more subtle <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">bāhyābhyantara stambha</i> (exhales,
inhales, and stoppages)? We can make mask-wearing a practice for <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>healing and transformation for ourselves and
others.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-41002380396022353382020-11-13T12:28:00.000-05:002020-11-13T12:28:25.849-05:00An Iyengar Yoga Sequence for Sacro-Iliac and Hip Stability<p>Many questions have recently come up from folks experiencing pain in the region of the sacrum, low back, and/or outer hip. Current events, including skyrocketing COVID19 rates, may be contributing to the instability many feel. We all may need to step up our grounding, centering, stabilizing practices in the face of so much suffering and uncertainty.</p><p>I've had intermittent SI issues for some years, especially early in my practice. The issue seemed to resolve itself as my practice became more balanced and mature. However, since menopause, and some accompanying loss of strength and muscle, some of the sacral and hip issues have returned. At least once a week, I concentrate on strengthening and stabilizing this region, and the sequence I've developed through lots of exploration, research, and trial and error, has been helping a ton. I hope it helps you too. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9xgsH5ILyjHUz5Yt0-ksFekgXd8oJuO_fmhQ1EyAZk4cQczPHpCf1WB3fvugHaPdSMJPFQY-snuSoCxNZoBCrglB52GtQxQuyeoE3UiY90DtEUmfLjep77NgO0xRVqoPoW-G4Uugm6UPi/s1334/fullsizeoutput_2a8.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9xgsH5ILyjHUz5Yt0-ksFekgXd8oJuO_fmhQ1EyAZk4cQczPHpCf1WB3fvugHaPdSMJPFQY-snuSoCxNZoBCrglB52GtQxQuyeoE3UiY90DtEUmfLjep77NgO0xRVqoPoW-G4Uugm6UPi/s320/fullsizeoutput_2a8.jpeg" /></a></div>The wonderful, classic Tadasana with a sacral strap and block. Here, the strap is at the level of the pubis and horizontal center of sacrum. It can also be taken a little lower, toward the greater trochanter/outer hip. It's also wonderful to wear more than one strap: 2 or 3 at varying levels can be incredibly helpful. The strap/s should provide immediate relief from discomfort, and can be worn all day, while you drive, or whenever. Place the buckle at center front, so it doesn't dig into your skin, and you can easily adjust it. It should be VERY snug. The block is not a requirement, but is helpful in doing the next asana. You could add another strap below the block if you wish.<br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvRnEOdyBr2Fx8laugU5w-7HQN3vdhkJDVzialG-HU2_3vF3RUfxs89HzaMFwWhO86FGGztxMp5turuXev_nNwRWjFJD7kegLI5NbPqgAMmKtqH1qWc5pqLVYSfzyqOUqUrVxao5n4OFuX/s1334/fullsizeoutput_2a6.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvRnEOdyBr2Fx8laugU5w-7HQN3vdhkJDVzialG-HU2_3vF3RUfxs89HzaMFwWhO86FGGztxMp5turuXev_nNwRWjFJD7kegLI5NbPqgAMmKtqH1qWc5pqLVYSfzyqOUqUrVxao5n4OFuX/s320/fullsizeoutput_2a6.jpeg" /></a></div><p>Tadasana variation: Here I am shifting my weight to one leg. Try not to bend to the side or forward, but to make the weight shift subtle and slow and only until the other leg becomes light and the foot just barely leaves the floor. The standing leg will be working hard, and the gluteals, especially the medias and minimus, firmly engaged. The lifted leg and its glutes will also be engaged. Do both sides to correct asymmetries.<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh76aODGXSs2ZCJuw39lFyAH4zVEPS4EjqRO9Cg6Kgip4qKCzqJKnccSk1g_AVeJ93LHDrlktmHJM8IgyGMX_wVHDkBxzWFutwXMCMKvLCmA89I7rzAAQVSuNeEjcuw2mYzaAYIiOwfzYPH/s1334/fullsizeoutput_2a4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh76aODGXSs2ZCJuw39lFyAH4zVEPS4EjqRO9Cg6Kgip4qKCzqJKnccSk1g_AVeJ93LHDrlktmHJM8IgyGMX_wVHDkBxzWFutwXMCMKvLCmA89I7rzAAQVSuNeEjcuw2mYzaAYIiOwfzYPH/s320/fullsizeoutput_2a4.jpeg" /></a></div>Utkatasana is also helpful. Make it a shallow bend, emphasizing the knees and ankles more than the hip flexion, staying upright with the trunk. Lengthen the buttocks downward and press them forward, strongly engaging the gluteus medias and minimus especially. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcnB_A6RXZ_ej6EUKZbqqaWFIApLBW7wV87AocRohSL31o0rjtTIvDOe3ZTwvlg0mk1qCfC0zbvm2icLHjFVYUpR3v2aaVE_SriHZdVvVm6ZZ-xW9LWku1w_f0sPcSa3Uy7H7e5ojChii8/s1334/fullsizeoutput_2a9.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcnB_A6RXZ_ej6EUKZbqqaWFIApLBW7wV87AocRohSL31o0rjtTIvDOe3ZTwvlg0mk1qCfC0zbvm2icLHjFVYUpR3v2aaVE_SriHZdVvVm6ZZ-xW9LWku1w_f0sPcSa3Uy7H7e5ojChii8/s320/fullsizeoutput_2a9.jpeg" /></a></div><p>Here I am doing the same weight shift I did in Tadasana. Ekapada Utkatasana is quite challenging and will ask a lot of the legs and hip muscles to maintain symmetry. In other words, don't let the standing leg outer hip bulge out. In all poses, the work is to keep the femur heads deeply engaged.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiA8JI6V0p936j7_sGXOke-5fqC9lSXIl_vkPG_D8ACQwOyNd3WYMYq3PgCx8_NFAixcp4ROwmYOKtw-uXa0fHQ9Wnf9cnmp2-D79IT94gezZCM-lWf_HeNqA-0FJQ_oGTt5UJth8AF9aj/s938/fullsizeoutput_2aa.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="938" data-original-width="747" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiA8JI6V0p936j7_sGXOke-5fqC9lSXIl_vkPG_D8ACQwOyNd3WYMYq3PgCx8_NFAixcp4ROwmYOKtw-uXa0fHQ9Wnf9cnmp2-D79IT94gezZCM-lWf_HeNqA-0FJQ_oGTt5UJth8AF9aj/s320/fullsizeoutput_2aa.jpeg" /></a></div><p>From a narrow Utthita Hasta Padasana (not pictured), I apply the same concept of leaning from side to side. The strap is not absolutely necessary but will intensify the work of the pose and the training of the muscles. You can also use a resistance band if you have one. In either case, the lifted leg needs to stay facing forward while abducting and pushing OUT into the strap. The standing leg, as always, should be stabilizing the femur deep in the hip socket. The intensity can be adjusted by the distance between the feet: the further apart they are, the more difficult the pose. Make sure the gluteas medias and minimus are fully engaged on both sides.</p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzETOnTfBDLcyCiq6Eap-3SbONwjQzc6Pps7Q5pmaY_hIrQH1efrLqmAuiuhTNAK8uTjUKQepi6G_Q1RvdYVbD0PEJe4BLpDfzdElHjgM4ddZ-C-yu0kHYXmRQg61xSQeogKlIzhb-wPh9/s1013/fullsizeoutput_29d.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="732" data-original-width="1013" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzETOnTfBDLcyCiq6Eap-3SbONwjQzc6Pps7Q5pmaY_hIrQH1efrLqmAuiuhTNAK8uTjUKQepi6G_Q1RvdYVbD0PEJe4BLpDfzdElHjgM4ddZ-C-yu0kHYXmRQg61xSQeogKlIzhb-wPh9/s320/fullsizeoutput_29d.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>Vasisthasana variations: Here I have to work hard in the lower hip to grip the femur in. I can intensify the challenge by abducting the top leg, as in Utthita Hasta Padasana (no rotation), and challenge further by using a strap or band and pushing out into it. Resist the temptation to do the work from your abdominal strength, and instead redirect the effort into the legs and hips.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFYlubHJ4KbXskS7pZSnsZWB9I8bdRwPkghi8va5BGlPEjr7zJ6IhaWEi35W5SAg2_o4L3rLAl8c6sresY9tRvWqW2pNR1LCyRv9sS9FufuD9kwSqr-2fwEIFzQCuh-gXidtvdL9grmsa7/s1005/fullsizeoutput_29e.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="732" data-original-width="1005" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFYlubHJ4KbXskS7pZSnsZWB9I8bdRwPkghi8va5BGlPEjr7zJ6IhaWEi35W5SAg2_o4L3rLAl8c6sresY9tRvWqW2pNR1LCyRv9sS9FufuD9kwSqr-2fwEIFzQCuh-gXidtvdL9grmsa7/s320/fullsizeoutput_29e.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij021aVL_d_Vd29WwXygx05QeU7zmGODNz1C1MmSGOGqY2wZAT8qxa9xqtB9yNirllT6J3LCClvInH3-4Z23ZNae-En4HYWVtB3_nYV57n3Xz7rFPFhoVCDkNQ7XHmH2ikTViujzx6a71F/s1014/fullsizeoutput_29f.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="728" data-original-width="1014" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij021aVL_d_Vd29WwXygx05QeU7zmGODNz1C1MmSGOGqY2wZAT8qxa9xqtB9yNirllT6J3LCClvInH3-4Z23ZNae-En4HYWVtB3_nYV57n3Xz7rFPFhoVCDkNQ7XHmH2ikTViujzx6a71F/s320/fullsizeoutput_29f.jpeg" width="320" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij021aVL_d_Vd29WwXygx05QeU7zmGODNz1C1MmSGOGqY2wZAT8qxa9xqtB9yNirllT6J3LCClvInH3-4Z23ZNae-En4HYWVtB3_nYV57n3Xz7rFPFhoVCDkNQ7XHmH2ikTViujzx6a71F/s1014/fullsizeoutput_29f.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoUt1az_8Yy9R_Sri9df_ShXOTOvliHCvTCXwbbMCeMhlCIr1A6zfFJvX0KoyJ3C2OZutCvyb4mRUiO4GxZ-T3y9QVWLGacMyip6HBwpBUbae_qweK71MYqtTLg4EpEv_1jQKon9gvK7L1/s1106/fullsizeoutput_2a0.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1106" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoUt1az_8Yy9R_Sri9df_ShXOTOvliHCvTCXwbbMCeMhlCIr1A6zfFJvX0KoyJ3C2OZutCvyb4mRUiO4GxZ-T3y9QVWLGacMyip6HBwpBUbae_qweK71MYqtTLg4EpEv_1jQKon9gvK7L1/s320/fullsizeoutput_2a0.jpeg" width="320" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div></div><p>Coming down onto the forearm brings the body more parallel to the floor and increases the challenge. Even more intense (not pictured) is having the feet on a chair and the hand on the floor.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjENx5GKzYuQoqGWW-k6BWi3v5_KtSONqCM6Z6x22ATr1YMIj5OeER9JIKnAz6V4wj_xSQ69o9vUNRtIKYrio-b77ijNUD7Z-VdFDfzU9H8Ry_XknAdrlGtn04m2M7-oUNE9d2S-rdMxWd/s975/fullsizeoutput_2a1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="713" data-original-width="975" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjENx5GKzYuQoqGWW-k6BWi3v5_KtSONqCM6Z6x22ATr1YMIj5OeER9JIKnAz6V4wj_xSQ69o9vUNRtIKYrio-b77ijNUD7Z-VdFDfzU9H8Ry_XknAdrlGtn04m2M7-oUNE9d2S-rdMxWd/s320/fullsizeoutput_2a1.jpeg" width="320" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtcGpLzgzast6btVXdVclr0yc_dZgMBUgCII0GZ9T8X1CDiV3THTmgnjAz5puBuVC9Mu8UVGgU8tym_guQFHZDDlLnNVKdarVpTQwbN7qsJA4ZCM3S4KLgiew7rPe64wkQxRVJgm4PeAkw/s1007/fullsizeoutput_2a2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="704" data-original-width="1007" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtcGpLzgzast6btVXdVclr0yc_dZgMBUgCII0GZ9T8X1CDiV3THTmgnjAz5puBuVC9Mu8UVGgU8tym_guQFHZDDlLnNVKdarVpTQwbN7qsJA4ZCM3S4KLgiew7rPe64wkQxRVJgm4PeAkw/s320/fullsizeoutput_2a2.jpeg" width="320" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Chatush Padasana variations: this is one of the very best for SI and hip issues. You could also hold the block between the thighs here. Ekapada requires strong effort in the standing leg to make sure the hips stay level and square. You can work up to it, by doing the weight shift as in the earlier Ekapada poses, or with the lifted leg foot on a wall or chair. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Enjoy and good luck!<br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <br /></div></div><p></p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-18234467417627400872020-09-28T08:08:00.005-04:002020-09-29T06:53:11.794-04:00More on Trauma, Retribution, and Iyengar Yoga<span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqR9u6wyjGE7OSVd-ntF0Iav4DiYRTfAzjwCJ-MAYTbkV8i3E2GQbUkYzYmIXrwCVtdVEXoif3EH8NFEjhmyPu3393JUBjkOHc56MAfDfH8acn7OxJm0o9RyYbo7e2OrEzE2rERlt2oyI6/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="468" data-original-width="779" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqR9u6wyjGE7OSVd-ntF0Iav4DiYRTfAzjwCJ-MAYTbkV8i3E2GQbUkYzYmIXrwCVtdVEXoif3EH8NFEjhmyPu3393JUBjkOHc56MAfDfH8acn7OxJm0o9RyYbo7e2OrEzE2rERlt2oyI6/w532-h319/Screen+Shot+2020-09-28+at+7.09.03+AM.png" width="532" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">from </span></span><i><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql oi732d6d ik7dh3pa fgxwclzu a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d3f4x2em fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v knj5qynh oo9gr5id" dir="auto">Leading with Love: Inspiration from Spiritual Activists</span></span></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Like love and wisdom, trauma is cumulative. Every new trauma
re-opens the doors of past traumas. The traumas can be personal, collective,
and intergenerational. No one is exempt from experiences of trauma, but
definitely some people have experienced more traumas, and more repeated and
severe traumas, than others. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Global white supremacy, empire, patriarchy, and capitalism create
a breeding ground for both individual and collective traumas. Theft of people,
land, and resources over centuries…wars fought to control these people, land,
and resources…ensuing genocide…divide and conquer strategies pitting neighbor
against neighbor…hypermasculinity as a survival response to incessant violation…abuse
within families, especially of women and children, repeated over generations….I
hope you get the picture.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">We are all trauma stewards. We are all required to tend to,
and hopefully heal and recover from, our own traumas, if we are to survive in
this world. As adults, we each need to develop ways to feed and house ourselves,
which requires some level of functionality, despite the blows we have endured.
We’re extremely fortunate if we develop livelihoods that nourish us
spiritually, and enable us to be present as trauma stewards for each other. Due
to structural inequities, as well as cultures of violence, neglect, and blame
developed as a response to trauma, many people are just surviving. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Even some with accumulated material wealth are just
surviving, from a soul perspective. They are spiritually bereft. #45 reminds us
daily of the brutality and systemic violence our nation is built upon, and the
ill-gotten generational wealth, shaped by generations of abuse, that put a
sociopath in power. We witness daily the unspeakable ravages such a person,
operating within systems and institutions built on oppression, can commit. We
witness the hordes (stil a significant minority of this nation—30%) who respond
to the dog whistle of his trauma, which resonates with theirs, who support him
unquestioningly. They resonate with his fear of white annihilation, scarcity
mindset, desperation to blame the other, and inexorable smugness of white
superiority, because what else do they have to cling to? They even insist their
God is white.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">This is what our nation is made of. This is the culture Iyengar
Yoga has emerged from. This is what all our institutions have emerged from,
including IYNAUS. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Our nation is also shaped by struggle, boldness, vision, and
resilience. Too many heroes to name from over the centuries, but off the top of
my head, Harriet Tubman, Frederick Douglass, Grace Lee Boggs, Charity Hicks….</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Will we take it upon ourselves to shift and transform our
culture and its institutions? There’s a part of me that says, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">fuck it</i>. I am so thoroughly disgusted
with mainstream society and I long to disengage from all of it. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">But then I get hungry, and thirsty, and cold. I need a
vehicle to acquire necessities. I need electricity to heat my home and wifi to
communicate and get information. I need a goddamn debit card. I have not
managed to get off the grid.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">So like most of us, I am carving a middle path. I practice
harm reduction. I am stewarding my trauma through somatic, creative, spiritual
practices. I build community with others on parallel paths. We compare notes,
teach each other, share food and resources, and support each other.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">We are all survivors of abusive lineages and colonization.
Most of us have been both survivors of harm and perpetrators of harm. How could
it not be so? What parent has never lost their temper and lashed out at their
innocent child? Or have times of shutdown or dissociation, when we are
emotionally unavailable? In our intimate relationships, haven’t we all done and
said hurtful things? When we open up so wide for each other, we make ourselves
vulnerable to each other’s traumas. I’ve not met anyone who is exempt.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Iyengar Yoga in the USA is no exception. No institution is
exempt. We need to regard each other and all our institutions through a
trauma-informed lens. Why the fuck would I ever expect an institution to
protect and serve me? Every institution and system was designed to serve the
dominant power structure, and to protect their property. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">IYNAUS emerged from a need to control who could represent,
control, and access the teachings of BKS Iyengar. The community had grown
exponentially worldwide, and Guruji was no longer able to personally mentor
each teacher, nor monitor what each nation was doing. So associations were set
up, with guidelines established locally, and overseen from a distance by
Guruji. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Is it any wonder that despite the extreme minority of men in
yoga classes, at least the past 5 presidents of IYNAUS included only 1 woman?
Is it surprising to anyone that the culture of IYNAUS and Iyengar Yoga is
overwhelmingly white? Even in a nation that is increasingly BIPOC, and will
soon be majority BIPOC, the culture of Iyengar Yoga lags far behind. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">IYNAUS as an institution reflects the community that
comprises it. In our nation it has traditionally been a practice of the
educated upper middle class. The middle class serves, in this nation, as
functionaries of the upper class, and have been given access to many resources
in exchange with compliance, and willingness to uphold the power structure. As
such, are we surprised that our community struggled to figure out how to hold
Manouso Manos accountable for decades of sexual abuse? And that allegations of
other men abusing their power in the Iyengar Yoga world remain unsanctioned and
unabated?</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">We excuse none of it. But I am thoroughly convinced that
healing will come from outside the institutions. I hold their feet to the fire,
at the same time that I actively build the alternative.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Iyengar Yoga Detroit Collective has a reach that extends
beyond our city and region, due to globalized technology in the face of
Covid-19. We have Iyengar Yoga practitioners from around the world able to
participate in our webinars, workshops, and weekly classes. We are able to
share our imperfect, evolving, trauma-informed, anti-oppression practices. We
have study groups and committees explicitly addressing the prevention and
correction of harm. We have a fund to support our many projects. We are in
conversation with other communities with the same goals. We identify with the global
Healing Justice movement, as defined by Cara Page and Kindred Southern Healing
Justice Collective, emphasizing the relationship between social justice and
healing trauma, individually and collectively.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">How do we hold each other accountable without relying on
institutions bound to repeatedly betray us? This is the starting point for
radical, revolutionary love. We must create these containers for each other.
It’s our only hope for healing. <a href="https://transformharm.org/">Transformative
justice and restorative justice</a> circles can meet with or without survivors,
with or without perpetrators, because participants understand that harm occurs
in social and historical contexts. There are many ways TJ/RJ sessions can be structured,
and no one structure fits every situation. Each community must take
responsibility. TJ/RJ is not a quick fix. It will require multiple sessions,
with expert facilitation, possibly over weeks and months, and even years. As we
know, healing happens in layers and spirals, and hopefully, never truly ends. TJ/RJ
is the alternative to cancel culture, which never really works because it doesn’t
address root causes. If healing happens in layers, acts of harm result from
layers of trauma.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">In the words of abolitionist Angela Davis, “We have to
imagine the kind of society we want to inhabit. We can’t simply assume that
somehow, magically, we’re going to create a new society in which there will be
new human beings. No, we have to begin that process of creating the society we
want to inhabit right now.”</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><style>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></span></p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-86072388946036348182020-09-22T08:01:00.031-04:002020-09-22T09:57:34.071-04:00Is Guruji the Problem?<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG7acoqrlWPF2nmMPi393DlrUNdCdhxvNGU3PiAPv6BUfVOJqdjSMy506ofwvlMhgFg-aa6V0knRQwOIHdhZxVCqoY77pH7FSBwkUiMfPO1Me1CD_Zb1DLv-X0LUBko_vuxEB_trLLb9kQ/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="272" data-original-width="646" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG7acoqrlWPF2nmMPi393DlrUNdCdhxvNGU3PiAPv6BUfVOJqdjSMy506ofwvlMhgFg-aa6V0knRQwOIHdhZxVCqoY77pH7FSBwkUiMfPO1Me1CD_Zb1DLv-X0LUBko_vuxEB_trLLb9kQ/w403-h170/Screen+Shot+2020-09-22+at+7.35.34+AM.png" width="403" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Remember <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uV6iBcFeu70">that scene</a> in the “Black
Panther” film when the white man wakes up from his coma in Wakanda, and Shuri
addresses him as “colonizah”? Our Detroit audience <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">loooved</i> that line. The dynamics between them illustrate a classic
misogynist, colonizer mindset. “Alright, where am I?” Ross demands gruffly of
Shuri, who is clearly in power, but whom he is treating like a servant by his
tone of voice, body language, and incredulity. If you glance at the comments in
the YouTube post, you will see colonizer mindset of white folks upset at
Shuri’s use of the term, decades and generations after historic colonization of
Africa, evidence that there is no such condition as “postcolonial” to be found.
Our minds remain colonized, and colonization has become more subtle, through
institutions, economics, and multinational corporations moreso than
governments.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Meanwhile I am reeling from another <a href="https://annekelucas.com/writing/2020/9/17/beat-kick-slap">exposé of harm
in the Iyengar Yoga world</a>, and heartbroken to learn of a senior teacher’s
alleged abuses. I sincerely hope restorative and transformative justice
practice will be employed to address lingering trauma and prevent future harm.
It’s the only way to heal and go forward.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Furthermore, author Anneke Lucas uses this situation to build
the argument that the harm inflicted is rooted in the patterns and behaviors
set by BKS Iyengar himself. Guruji.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">It’s not a new argument, and I’ve addressed the issue in <a href="https://stillinsirsasana.blogspot.com/2018/09/transforming-wounds-of-our-elders-and.html">previous
essays</a>. Lucas’s perspective grounds itself in a larger anti-guru,
anti-lineage movement. Too many spiritual leaders have inarguably committed
harm, and the conflation of spiritual devotion with unchecked power is absolutely
toxic and nearly ensures abuse. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">If it <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">were</i>
possible to oust all abusive spiritual leaders, would we also dismantle the
spiritual traditions? What is the role of elders, gurus, and mentors? Would we cancel
our own grandfathers? It’s one thing to write off someone we have no relation
to, as an intellectual exercise. It’s another thing to attack an entire lineage
and tradition in which a teacher has been treasured and beloved, despite harms
committed. I firmly believe we need to wrestle with the contradictions, hold
that tension within ourselves, without clinging to either/or positions that
fail to address deeper issues.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">What deeper issues? </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Our embrace of hierarchy as a species, for example, can
create unhealthy power dynamics. Why do we continually put certain people on
pedestals and give them power? We need to acknowledge that as complex social
beings, we yearn for leadership, and benefit from others’ experience, talent,
and genius. We need to acknowledge that at the spiritual core, we are all
equal, but we are not all equal when it comes to knowledge, experience, and
wisdom. We need to build firm containers for each others’ brilliance to be
taught and shared. We need our teachers and mentors if we are to grow, as
individuals and as a society.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">The other side of this coin entails our desperate hunger for
scapegoats. “If there were no prisons, we would realize that we are all in
chains,” observed Maurice Blanchot, 20<sup>th</sup> century French philosopher.
This explains why mainstream America rejects abolition of the prison industrial
complex and the Defund the Police movement. As long as the problem remains “out
there” and not within each of us, we feel safe. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Our unprocessed trauma compels us to point fingers at the
other, and makes it unnecessary to look within. As long as lynching mobs
believed that the negro was the problem, they avoided the recognition that they
themselves, white people, created the brutal and violent racial hierarchy based
on their imagined superiority. And that the great lie of white supremacy was
rooted in their own feelings of inferiority and fear, borne of generations of their
own trauma and oppression. All too often, the oppressed, given half a chance,
become the oppressor. Their ancestors had fled the wars, genocide, starvation,
plagues, torture chambers, and class oppression of Europe, only to recreate the
trauma here in the New World, with a new underclass.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">So now we come back around to BKS Iyengar.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">We are not yet engaging in a robust public discussion about
the issue of race and colonization in the context of Iyengar Yoga. Born in 1918
and raised under British colonial rule, BKS Iyengar was of a generation and
temperament that swept racism under the rug. What he knew to do was the same
thing my parents, growing up under Japanese colonial rule in Korea, knew to do:
put your head down and work hard. By work hard, I mean, as if your life
depended on it. As if it’s the only thing you can do to ensure survival. <br /></span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuzJJRYdWk1WO2vw8zgrvLs3PTfF13nz-Xpj1qjVHhT4_ZwnO0JJM_E4QhE7pTUKLYWJ-muOc3qwsglThyphenhyphenBB2yUgQvnmwL2PN1Q_E9M5nZQxu_pfdswjb2uEos3yZ6VJ08QcXUwJLX5GRf/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="239" data-original-width="450" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuzJJRYdWk1WO2vw8zgrvLs3PTfF13nz-Xpj1qjVHhT4_ZwnO0JJM_E4QhE7pTUKLYWJ-muOc3qwsglThyphenhyphenBB2yUgQvnmwL2PN1Q_E9M5nZQxu_pfdswjb2uEos3yZ6VJ08QcXUwJLX5GRf/w389-h207/0a415f7fb085fa1d90d5a3e31a920a73.jpg" width="389" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Perhaps they did not have the language for oppression and
exploitation. The ugliness of colonization is that it’s designed to take over
our minds as well as our resources, livelihoods, and culture, so that you
admire the colonizer, emulate them, internally reject your own upbringing, and
question your own right to autonomy and independence.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">BKS Iyengar, Guruji, was indeed “the Lion of Pune.” But he
was also a product of generations of colonization. It was the particular time
and place his soul chose to reincarnate in, just as each of us have spiritually
chosen to be here now.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">He was 29 when India gained independence in 1947, but a
nation does not shake off nearly a century of colonial rule overnight. Yoga as
an indigenous practice, like many indigenous arts, was in disrepute, and he
found little interest among Indians in the yogic path. Not until the Western*
elite “discovered” him did he begin to gain recognition, and even then, only
under their terms.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">[*I deliberately use the term “Westerners” in this essay, as
used by many Indians, to describe white bodies of the European diaspora, and
people raised in nations established by white bodies, which lie primarily to
the west of India.]</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">American violinist Yehudi Menuhin hired him as his personal
yoga teacher, and began taking him on his travels. Guruji was introduced to and
embraced by European royalty. But what were the terms of that embrace? He
describes the conditions of apartheid of the nations he traveled to, without using
this terminology. He was exoticized and objectified, treated as a mascot, like
an unusually skillful servant one would show off to friends. A status symbol. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI_3ECfgE7fCWtJ67dnWqBoUpyT6vWFjXGMjyqdVHxASGwprjqsBtCBJMW4VKLYUkW6JE-W0RWo7hkAfV5O6X4HFma3cbj6XEmSEuzzC2uHequEr93W7a54hqzqFEx18n7DbUAQhyphenhyphenAs5lY/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="850" data-original-width="1000" height="279" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI_3ECfgE7fCWtJ67dnWqBoUpyT6vWFjXGMjyqdVHxASGwprjqsBtCBJMW4VKLYUkW6JE-W0RWo7hkAfV5O6X4HFma3cbj6XEmSEuzzC2uHequEr93W7a54hqzqFEx18n7DbUAQhyphenhyphenAs5lY/w328-h279/IyengarMenuhinAttenborough.jpg" width="328" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">No one in the aristocratic circles of Europe wanted to house
this foreign black man. On one visit, he was stuffed ungraciously into a dusty storage
attic, into a space so small there was no room to even practice. This is one of
very few stories on record, told by his granddaughter at the 2019 Iyengar Yoga
USA convention, that mention the racism he faced. Guruji himself, just like my
parents, never ruminated on those days publicly, and never criticized his
sponsors. They say he fell out with Menuhin eventually, but I don’t know the
terms of that disengagement.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">In only one interview I have seen does Guruji mention the
dilemma of racism and colonization. He describes how the slave, so to speak,
had to teach the slavedrivers. He had to find the inner strength to not only
face the colonizers, but to demand their respect as a trusted authority. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I believe that’s what accounts for his reputation as a harsh
disciplinarian in the classroom, in contrast to his playful, nurturing
personality described by his family. Guruji had to break through the tamas of Westerners' comfortable habits and entrenched minds, and the conditioning of
Westerners to habitually and unconsciously view Indians (and other Black and
Brown bodies) as inferior. Sometimes Guruji conveyed his lessons angrily, an absolutely
understandable and healthy response to the colonial condition. You could say he embodied the suppressed
rage of generations. Guruji’s anger never emerged outside the yoga hall, and I've heard no stories of private abuse. His outbursts were channeled through the teaching of āsana. Before and after class,
everyone describes him as good-humored, loving, unfailingly generous, and
affable. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Geeta Iyengar, an infant when Indian independence was won,
was of the first generation to get out from under the boot of British colonial
rule. Geetaji, bless her heart, was often openly furious with us Westerners,
and minced no words. Her voice would bellow in the hall and make us all quake:
“You people come here to take. You don’t come to learn. You don’t even read
Guruji’s books. You come for ‘points’ to take back. You go home and have workshops,
‘Teachings from Pune,’ and teach the points you get in class, and make money
from what we teach you. You don’t even care about Guruji. You don’t even practice.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Geetaji was describing the colonial condition. Europeans,
North Americans, South Africans, Australians, and Israelis—the entire white
global colonial world—and later the Chinese, other East Asians, and practitioners from all over the world, were
constantly pouring in to RIMYI to bow before their Indian teachers, but some, to Geeta's sharp eye,
coming as “spiritual tourists,” extractors, capitalists, and egotistical power
mongers to take back trinkets of knowledge and sell them to raise their own status. Geeta was calling out
the extraction and commodification of a sacred practice. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">[A generation later, RIMYI decided it was their turn to
capitalize on the popularity of yoga and Guruji’s reputation and legacy, and
cash in themselves. A month’s study at RIMYI went from $200 in 2005 to $450 by
2017. They started hosting mega-conventions with 1000+ students just like the
other regions of the world, and charging Western rates. They relaxed the RIMYI
admission rules, so that instead of requiring 8 years of study and letters of
recommendation, virtually anyone could come, pay the money, and take classes.
Why beat them [sic] instead of joining them? Or is this a redistribution of wealth? Reparations/compensation for generations of exploitation?]</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Meanwhile, many in the first generation of foreigners
compelled to travel to India to study with Guruji directly were responding to
his particular vibration and energy field, no doubt influenced by their own
unprocessed trauma. <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/CFVhRDbBc3l/">Tada
Hozumi comments</a> that, “The reason why (almost all) famous embodiment
teachers are white is because white people are the most dissociated people on
this earth, so the medicines themselves simply decided to travel where they
were needed.” </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">That is, the first generation of mostly white practitioners
in the USA and elsewhere recognized something they needed from Guruji: the way
the practice made them feel, the healing it provided, the insights they gained.
They wanted to share it with others, and took it wholesale to their white
communities. Some in the first generation went on to internalize his harshness,
and project it on to their own pupils. They said things like, “My teacher would
never allow that. Do it this way instead.” Or “You would get slapped for doing
that in front of Mr. Iyengar. Never do that again.”</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Many in second and third generations of Iyengar Yoga,
however, had time and distance to process the emotional baggage of the
teachings, and develop teaching in ways not shaped by colonization, that did
not include bullying and shaming.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I fear that we are experiencing a clash of generations and
cultures in Iyengar Yoga. Second and third generations of Iyengar Yoga students,
especially those who have never studied directly with BKS Iyengar, are no
longer willing to subject themselves to the methodology of the Guru and his
“disciples.” We have language and reference points for abuse and trauma that
were not employed in popular culture a generation ago. We will not tolerate
misconduct or abuse in the yoga classroom or elsewhere. We agree that corporal
punishment has no place in the yoga classroom.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">At the same time, it’s almost exclusively white folks who
are calling out the Guru and his followers. They are operating through a white
lens and the POV of the colonizer, and its residual effects and traumas, which
can last for generations. If the healing that was required in the 1970s and 80s
was simply embodiment (as a departure from dissociation), perhaps the healing
that is required in this decade is empowered embodiment to heal trauma. That
is, we are seeking somatic practices that address the harm we’ve experienced,
individually, collectively, and intergenerationally.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">But we cannot do this effectively without understanding and
coming to terms with the harm experienced by the accused perpetrator, Guruji,
through the unspeakable harm of colonization. As timeless as we claim yoga is,
we cannot remove Guruji’s teachings from the context he was living and
practicing in. As Westerners, we cannot absolve ourselves of the hegemonic
imperialism of the West and the lasting effects of the brutal British empire.
Even now, we cannot escape coloniality, and our own distorted, colonized minds.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">If Guruji developed his famous fire and shakti as a response
to overcoming the oppression of whiteness, then it feels disingenuous for white
folks now to blame him, as an individual, for aspects of the culture of Iyengar
Yoga they reject. It’s like blaming street protestors for making trouble,
without acknowledging the systems and institutions they are protesting, and the
reasons behind their drastic actions. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Certainly we all have free will and individual choice, but
we must contextualize our actions and decisions in history, politics, and
culture, if we are to understand it and transform it.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">I will not reject Guruji, nor the tradition of Iyengar Yoga.
I straddle both worlds, as an immigrant from a colonized nation, who is now an
unwitting representative of the American empire. I identify with Guruji and
Geetaji’s anger. I recognize and resist white supremacy daily, and with every
breath. My resistance is not always pretty nor graceful. I employ the profound
tools I was taught by the Iyengars to wrestle, question, explore, evolve, to
pray, and hopefully, heal. I carry the trauma of generations of colonization,
and I hope, I also carry the healing. May it be so.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><style>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></span></p>hong gwi-seokhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04634063684075535944noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6019236288932552169.post-56096373414973387912020-09-15T20:03:00.003-04:002020-09-15T20:10:45.535-04:00The Gift of Somatic Particularity in Iyengar Yoga<p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB-b5hqcLAHPTeAPRmAJAnNf3TvhEs4a5kdYHdkLQ6vqd_eE0W5vAs5jkQ_gTcX5OiDx_5I8XjBj9azNAp9neQsO7ZmJwvBcB1_sQjLPf1sg0LLlTPB4J3xMIPyIlpl1M9s1QuYPtTGXVx/s548/Screen+Shot+2020-09-15+at+7.53.22+PM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="208" data-original-width="548" height="147" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB-b5hqcLAHPTeAPRmAJAnNf3TvhEs4a5kdYHdkLQ6vqd_eE0W5vAs5jkQ_gTcX5OiDx_5I8XjBj9azNAp9neQsO7ZmJwvBcB1_sQjLPf1sg0LLlTPB4J3xMIPyIlpl1M9s1QuYPtTGXVx/w389-h147/Screen+Shot+2020-09-15+at+7.53.22+PM.png" width="389" /></a>
</span></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">What in the world could that mean?</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">It’s a term I made up and just now started using, to
describe what we are doing when we say we practice Iyengar Yoga. To say Iyengar
Yoga is about “alignment” is both too narrow and too vague. Narrow, because
usually folks are referring to the physical body only, and vague, because just
how do you align the body with the mind, and the mind with the soul, as we are
urged to do?</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">When we say Iyengar Yoga is about precision, that is also
misleading. Yes, we frequently engage precise, incisive actions. Not just
“stand on your feet,” but perhaps “join the feet and lengthen the big toes
forward, while pressing the outer edge of the feet down and the inner heels
together.” Why? Is it just to be bossy, dogmatic, and controlling? Precision itself
is not the goal; it must serve a larger purpose.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">So, what if we define the practice of Iyengar Yoga as a
methodology to somatically understand and heal ourselves, by developing sensitivity
to the particularities of our complex body/mind/breath matrix, through the
technologies of āsana and prāṇāyāma? ie Somatic Particularity.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">BKS Iyengar gifted all of us with an entryway into the
body/mind/breath matrix. He taught us how to pay attention, feel, and come into
relationship with the particularities of our bodies: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Is the weight more on my right foot or the left foot? Why is one foot
turning out? How does that relate to the hip pain, or to abdominal cramps? What
about tension in my temple when I sit at my desk, or feelings of anxiety?</i></span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Through the somatic particularity of Iyengar Yoga, we learn
to pay attention to ourselves. We start with the basics, the placement of the
arms and legs, and how they relate to the trunk. With practice we become more
observant and more detailed: how do the actions of my arms and legs affect my
spine, my physiological body, and my emotional state? In āsana, we start to
connect the observation of the physical body with the state of the mind, our
feelings, and thoughts. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Through our individual practices of somatic particularity,
we also learn to pay attention to social and cultural conditions and patterns.
We become more sensitized not only to our own state, but also to the “energy in
the room,” in our neighborhoods, in our cities, and beyond.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">This is where the gift of somatic particularity comes in.
Iyengar Yoga gives us specific tools to shape these observations into actions
of healing and transformation. We learn not only how to heal the tweaky knee or
aching neck, but also how to regulate our nervous systems, lower our blood
pressure, calm the breath, manage trauma, and much more. Perhaps we can also
apply somatic particularity to shift the dynamics in relationships, at home,
work, and beyond.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">How does this happen? There are no easy recipes or universal
remedies. Sometimes the healing can happen in a flash, with one well-timed and
attuned āsana. But usually the transformative healing evolves over years and
decades. Through somatic particularity, we begin to understand how an action in
one body part has a ripple effect through the entire organism. </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">Often the particularity is important. We move, as we are
taught, from the gross to the subtle. The more particular and granular we
become in our awareness and our actions, the more we access the subtle body.
Abstraction does not typically bring about transformation. Abstraction usually
happens in our minds, intellects, and imaginations, but the body functions concretely.
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">No ideas but in things!</i> as poet
William Carlos Williams insisted.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">This concreteness, this “thing-ness,” is the profound gift
of Iyengar Yoga and somatic particularity. I have not experienced another
somatic practice which consistently awakens this level of concrete sensitivity.
Iyengar Yoga gives me the specific tools and techniques to engage the complex
and magical instrument of the human body for the purpose of transformation and
healing. We press this, we pull that, we turn this way and that, we invert, we
extend, we compact, and all the while we are reshaping our minds and souls,
always coming back to the body and its particularities.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial;">May our devotion to this practice of somatic particularity
be a transformative tool, to liberate ourselves and our communities, to expand our
minds, hearts, and imaginations, to create the world we know is possible.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">
</span><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><style>
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