Lake Junaluska: bridge closed, what to do?

So much floating in consciousness. It takes time and patience to find words. 

Guess first, I will stick with basics: that is, how Plan B was liberating and amazing.

Decided on Ashtanga in India at last minute and that my shoulder could handle it. Plan A was to warm up with Andrew Hillam, then go to Mysore to study with Sharath or Saraswatihi. Due to my own errors and various snafus at the Shala, the latter part was not possible this year. 

What to do?  Ke garne? (getting into the N. Indian lingo of things - oops that is Nepali!)

Such exciting prospects!  How about study with certified Ashtangi Louise Ellis in Rishikesh? How about a visit to Ellora and Ajanta, a dream of mine since grad school? How about some spare days that are wide open? All fabulous! 

And so Plan B became the best plan ever.

As for life here, there is no Plan B if Hillary does not win this election. There is a world-wide energy now, that I believe originates in the first chakra (issues of physical survival, safety and security fueled negatively by fear and insecurity.) It has a nasty crocodile-brain edge to it where action and words of violence, illusion, and hate have been awakened to varying degrees in almost all of us. I certainly will cop to it.

So much to say about all this. Briefly, it seems the opposite of the youth, left wing culture of the Sixties when the Red Guard in China and the hippie culture in the West held sway. Be that as it may, right now the situation is causing me great anxiety, dread. What happens if this mad man wins? 

image at Lake Junaluska
 my own (First Chakra) portrait of the other presidential candidate

I've been losing sleep over it, but have discovered a Plan B for insomnia (and perhaps even politics.) Usually after 2 to 5 hours of sleep, I awaken and—this is key—at some point give up trying/waiting to release again into slumber. I begin to observe my mind with curiosity, as if it belonged to someone else. At times, waves of universal love wash over and emanate from me (haha so far, only at night.)  One time, I did something that I always thought was so corny: I counted blessings, or said another way—acknowledged gratitude. 

And you know what? The last of many things I truly saw/felt filling me with joy and gratefulness—was my breath. 

metta metta metta


for the eyes, ears, and heart


photography as spiritual practice

A few times a week these days, I run or walk around Lake Junaluska, and most of the time, everything there seems unremarkable—trees, clouds, flowers, water, signs, paths, bridges, etc. the usual outdoor stuff.  I am focused on a sort of moving meditation, counting breaths, running at a certain pace, avoiding eye contact with others, and often, just getting around the lake quickly.

However, recently I grabbed my phone and car key; threw them in a little bag around my neck; took a deep breath; and walked—without naming and unconsciously dismissing what I saw. 

Observing surroundings without the presumptive lens of knowing, (with mu-mind) unlocks worlds, universes. In Encinitas last winter, it just happened, spontaneously and continuously. First, at the beach I noticed that every day, every minute was different. I began to take pictures of every magical (to me) object or phenomena—no matter how small, monumental, terrible or cosmic it was—from planets, clouds, water, a dead seal, seaweed, plastic, and rocks—to grains of sand. 

After I returned to North Carolina, the nonjudgemental, unflinching seer continued for a while; then faded as shoulder pain dominated just about everything. So, when last week I brought my phone-camera to the lake—I did not expect to see much of anything. 

I was wrong! That little three mile walk turned out to be full of wonder and realization: what is present at Encinitas and the lake is everywhere. All things change as much as the seashore, and are never ever the same. What is more, we don't have to go anywhere to be inspired by "beauty." It is here, even in the distasteful or "ugly"! It is present in the most ordinary most overlooked surroundings. Even inside the home or office—the spectacular is happening.

Methodist sign, Lake Junaluska

I am NOT at all a photographer, though smiling as I write—but I do know what good art does—it expands consciousness, first artist's and then, viewer's. Hmmmm, so which comes first, greater awareness or the camera? Maybe Elin Slavick* knows. The many photos she shares on FB and elsewhere  are great examples of "seeing."

Joshua Tree, CA

sound as spiritual practice

Last Friday I attended a performance by a group called Battle Trance at the Black Mountain College Museum + Art Center. These four saxophone players, true to the traditions of Black Mountain College and John Cage, provided another transport to consciousness for those of us in attendance, (those who did not walk out.) 

This sound art is not for everyone, and is not conventional music in any way. It pushed me right to the edge! At several points in the performance, and I cannot say why—I wanted to cry, to sob. The only experience I can liken it to is the intensity of the MRI that I had a while ago ( mu-moon-MRI ), because basically, in a far more wonderful way, it emptied my brain! 

And the breath. These guys are pranayama masters! They blew Blade of Love all 3 parts of it for about 45 minutes without a break, and at some points - they merely breathed into their instruments or whistled. 

Of course, live performance is very different from a recording, but here's a link, if one cares/dares to listen: blade-of-love, part 1


art as spiritual practice

Here is something I wrote in response to a radio conversation between my teacher and an artist: 
Creativity and spirituality are the same. 
Creativity comes from emptiness. It is accessible and present in everyone. Being present in the moment is part of it. 
I believe Truth can only be expressed and grasped through what we might call “art." However, art as it is a culturally defined, is a limited outlet because not only is art present in the traditionally accepted suspects —painting, sculpture, music, theater, dance, poetry etc., but whenever we are aware and present - we are making art/living creatively in truth. 
On a non-verbal  level this conversation fueled my trust in creativity/spirituality and in the ability to accept  all things. I yield gratefully to this energy.

Asheville, my house

yoga as spiritual practice

Now let's get real—my shoulder! This injury has been a VERY *difficult* and enlightening adventure. I have connected with some wonderful people who have provided support and information— an Ashtangi MD, Orthopedist, Physical Therapist Eileen Reihman, Ashtangis Karen Cairns, Larry Hobbs, and Lewis Rothlein, to name a few. Oh, and an MD in Asheville named Groh with some answers and a plan (other than shoulder surgery and giving up yoga—NOPE and NOPE!!) 

Am also connecting with doctors at Emory if all else fails, to see if ligament replacement (transplant) or stem cell (my own) therapy might be an option.

So issues relating to ego, pain (what is it? just very strong sensation?), aging, attachment, adapting, acceptance, perseverance and just about everything else have come up. Glory be! What's true on the mat is true off the mat.

 And if, after trying everything, I have to give up (Ashtanga) asanas, I will become a runner yogi, a breathing yogi, a meditating yogi, a healing yogi, a laughing yogi, a bad yogi, a silly yogi, a nothing-yogi and/or a WHAT —EVAH YOGI.


everything as spiritual practice


my brother died august 4





soldier shoulder : stage 4

"Perhaps the most important thing to understand is that a wrathful deity is but the other face of a benevolent and peaceful deity, and that the message of each is
"Do not be afraid. Nothing is happening." -from Open Space Forum

Don’t get so attached to the asana thing… Your body will change but your state of mind shouldn’t change. Become wiser in your thoughts… I used to be able to catch the backs of my knees. Now I can’t. So what?… Asana practice is just physical at first, until you develop wisdom… The yoga is what happens inside you – that should be alive all the time. - Sharath Jois 

Today I pushed up from floor into backbend and did a headstand!

So what's the big deal about that? Well, I'm elated, for one. It feels like I'm starting Ashtanga all over again: hey, I just nailed a new pose! True, neither was pretty, but getting into a solid backbend (other than ustrasana) felt magnificent.

For months intense shoulder pain has said, "No!" and "Stop!" The MRI results showed "effusion" (fluid) in the joint area, tendonitis, a spur, and—"stage 4 chondromalacia." Without a clue about most of the language, went to internet where I found this:

Stage 4, the most severe grade, indicates exposure of the bone with a significant portion of cartilage deteriorated. Bone exposure means bone-to-bone rubbing is likely occurring...
Yikes, no wonder I've been in pain. So, I got the dreaded steroid shot. And the needle experience which had me quaking in fear, was not a problem.

Currently not pain-free, but so much improved, that I'm smiling. (Nice also, to lose subtle, background depression.)  Will definitely get another shot if pain increases again, and I will also have arthoscopic shoulder surgery, if needed. (They can clean out the junk in there.) No more playing around with this.

Hooray for the shoulder soldier! (Tibetan wrathful deity! See above image.)

Have a great physical therapist
*, also. Just happened to mention that my brother has been in hospice for over a year (15 months), and she noted I am carrying a lot on my shoulders. Although I know about body pain relating to life issues, and am aware of being a "fixer," it had never occurred this idea might apply to me. Felt lighter and freer since that session.

I do rejoice in getting back some poses, but I also hear Sharath's words:

"Don't get so attached to the asana thing...yoga is what happens inside you." 
Deep bow to you, wise guru. One of the many things that has happened inside me is increased clarity, compassion, and a slowness to respond in conditioned ways. There are so many troubling things going on in the world today—from national politics to acts of individual and terrorist violence. It often feels overwhelming. However, I do not have to shoulder the weight of the world, I can contribute by being aware, showing kindness to ALL (ha! even Trump supporters), and doing my best in small or even large ways. And small is powerful, like the 360 Project where it all comes together. (And where, sadly we have had to add new origami cranes for Nice, Orlando, Brussels, among other distressed sites.)

Gratitude in sharing here in the ethernet—where words and ideas can hang waiting to be picked as needed or drop into the vast emptiness. Either way—


Spiritual awakening is a remembering. It is not becoming something that we are not. It is not about transforming ourselves. It is not about changing ourselves. It is a remembering of what we are, as if we'd known it long ago and had simply forgotten. At the moment of this remembering, if the remembering is authentic, it's not viewed as a personal thing...But in a true awakening, it is realized very clearly that even the awakening itself is not personal. It is universal Spirit or universal consciousness that wakes up to itself. Rather than the 'me' waking up, what we are wakes up from the 'me.' What we are wakes up from the seeker. What we are wakes up from the seeking.
~ Adyashanti

 360 Project

*Physical Therapist, Eileen Reihman



MU (often translated as emptiness or void)
Eikaku Hakuin, 1686 - 1768 

Today is special. It is the summer solstice, the longest day of the year and on this shortest night there is a full moon! It will be over 20 years before this event occurs again. So I am celebrating with a moonlight walk around the lake and here, images from my favorite Zen artist, Hakuin. These paintings express better than any words what I—and I believe we all—experience.  

A few days ago I had an MRI (magnetic resonance imaging) done for my shoulder. Tied down to a  table to prevent movement, given puny ear plugs, and gripping a panic button, I was electronically moved into a small tube. There I experienced sound vibrations so aggressive, loud, and threatening that all thought was forced from my mind. 


I walked out to the car, ears ringing, dazed, and zapped into a stupor of happiness. Had I experienced a rare form of torture or a very confrontational form of meditation?  A vibrational version of electroshock therapy?


And my shoulder? I have now tried everything. Finally gave in to a week's course of steroid tabs—certain, after reading the side effects—they were going to land me in the ER. Hasn't happened. With some pain relief, I am surprised how much that ever present drain of energy (pain) in the background and/or foreground affected me. Am getting glimpses of a fully restored (cautiously) yoga practice. 



I know, death (and a lot of things) are not pleasant. Even Hakuin's kanji above has an ominous and vaguely violent look. But there are many kinds of deaths. Death of illusion. Death of desire, frustration, hurt—suffering and ego. Seeing what is causing suffering and letting it go is a beautiful type of death.  But you have to see it and allow it to be, first. Not easy.

Not easy. Yesterday I recalled something as a result of a discussion in Ashtanga circles about sexual assault in Mysore. Something unpleasant happened my first time at the shala in India. My second day ever in class, a Conference day, after a week of being in bed with the flu, I ended up scrunched behind a huge man who was probably close to double my weight of 107 lbs. and about a foot taller. I felt weak, miserably uncomfortable, and squirmy on the crowded floor. When we all got up to leave, this man, angered by my squirms, elbowed me hard. I was shoved back several steps and fell. I could not believe this had happened inside the shala. (Apparently, no one else could either, because no one said a word to him or me.) Outside, this man confronted me angrily, and whether it was fear or good sense, I did not/could not respond. I could only gaze deeply, uncomprehendingly into his eyes. He turned away and moved on. Whew! I felt shaky and sick again.

Realizing, that I, like many victims, feel/felt shame, guilt, and later, anger over this incident is liberating. 

Like sunlight on vampires, these emotions are turning to dust. 


So on this beautiful longest day of the year, I honor crossing bridges, death, form, yes-no, oneness, and emptiness.

one hand clapping
One question I want you to hold is 'Can I be only aware right now?' I don't mean exclusively, that nothing else intrudes upon your awareness, but 'Can I be aware without judgment, without an opinion, without a description, without any story?' 
~ Adyashanti 
The Way of Liberating Insight


The Illuminating MEH

Ai Weiwei work in Berlin, Germany at the Gendarmenmarkt:
14,000 life jackets worn by refugees trying to come to Europe

Art tries to have a deeper understanding of color, of our sensitivity, our rationality, ultimately who we are. What is the real mystery and what matters. My conclusion is we are one humanity. If anyone is being hurt, we are all being hurt. If anyone has a joy, that’s our joy. 
“Be more involved. Take responsibility. Do what you should do. You may help and you may not help. But your intentions will be expressed. Provide yourself opportunities at the same time you provide opportunities to others.

This quote by Ai Weiwei lights up the sky with lightning and thunderbolts for me. Art, yoga, life, body, spirit - kaboom! it comes together. Omit certain words like "color" (though even that works), and Weiwei speaks to the essence of everything—yoga, spirituality, life, love, nature. Beautifully, the second paragraph seems to say, do something, do your best, express your intentions (artistic or otherwise) and you will be changing the world for the better. 

As for getting a deeper understanding of microcosmic/macrocosmic chunks of life, I've been contemplating the effects of not having a daily yoga practice. I have been doing an adapted first series twice a week and stretching out daily. The shoulder issue/injury has led me back to running, which I believe is a wonderful, primal form of movement.

But it's not the same. 

My days have felt off and oddly directionless without a morning moving meditation that affects every part of my body. The joy of visiting another city without the promise of practicing with teachers and fellow Ashtangis is diminished to meh. NYC without a visit to the Brooklyn Yoga Club or another Ashtanga studio leaves art, theater, and food. Sound great? Sigh.... 

And there's more. Had not realized how attached I had become to this practice. At the root is ego. Ashtanga is one of the last things that mind still identifies as "me." There's a few more layers left to this onion, but this is getting way close to the core. 

Four months of this dukkha! It's time to give it up. 

It is said that pain is inevitable; suffering, optional. I get it. 

And underneath all is the source, expressed inadequately and incompletely with various words— love is one of them. 

May all beings everywhere be happy and free.

May the rulers of the earth keep to the path of virtue
For protecting the welfare of all generations.
May the religious, and all people be forever blessed,
May all beings everywhere be happy and free
Om peace, peace, perfect peace

Swathi Praja Bhyaha Pari Pala Yantam
Nya Yena Margena Mhim Mihishaha
Go Brahmanebhyaha Shubamastu Nityam
Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu
Om Shanti Shanti Shantihi

Ashtanga closing mantra


the cruelest month(s)

Manjusri, the Boddhisattva of Wisdom from Rubin Museum. 
He is supposed to be gentle - so this must his wrathful aspect. Perfect. 
He is cutting through the baloney of our/my illusions. The path to truth is not always easy.

The Wasteland (opening verse)

April is the cruellest month, breeding

Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing 

Memory and desire, stirring 

Dull roots with spring rain. 

Winter kept us warm, covering 

Earth in forgetful snow, feeding 
A little life with dried tubers. 

- T.S. Eliot

How perfectly the Manjusri and TS Eliot express my experience! But where to take it from here? Usually in these vignette-like posts (blogs, as it were), there is a general direction. Much like riding a horse (at which I was never good), the writer leads and restrains an episode.

Not I. Not a clue.
Dull roots and dried tubers.
No horse.

In the Future
they shall be called
the atavistic months when
memory, desire, and despair were
awkwardly twined, and talk between
the coupled body-soul shouted
and whispered

"As we go through our trials and tribulations, outer circumstances seem to be exquisitely put together specifically to test each part of our realization. These trials and tribulations will also occur from the inside. Your unconscious at some point will start to reveal itself...

shoulder pain can't sleep
diminished yoga practice


hello past heartache
years since feeling that
what is happening
thought this self was long gone
ice packs

....with awakening our means of suppression and denial are either torn apart completely or wounded so severely that we can’t repress as much. The unconscious elements of our mind come into conscious awareness, and that is another kind of trial...

This week I had an x-ray physically and emotionally. The view of my shoulder bones indicates calcific tendonitis—finally an explanation for the pain and a possible solution! An unkindness from a volunteer yogi led me to realize (and feel) many things. Then all the other stuff (including a persistently obsessing ego) faded in dukkha dominance.

So I am left with what? Gratitude for the support I received—unknowingly from friends, teachers (see quotes!) and my physical therapist, a true healer. Even if yours truly is headed for more grit, she is buoyed by the loving energy of many.

...What’s being asked of you is to meet all of that inner material from the standpoint of divine being, from the standpoint of eternity - to meet it, to understand it, to resolve it. That may sound quite easy, but when it’s actually happening it’s a little more gritty and real than the description suggests." ~ Adyashanti, Resurrecting Jesus

And this too is yoga.
Metta, metta metta!

Yoga was created to free people
in all ways—from the limitations
of our minds and bodies,
from teachers, teachings, attachments,
expectations, from dependency
on any person or thing.
It is a personal, private journey to liberation

- Danny Paradise

No matter what spiritual path you’ve walked or what teachings you’ve followed, they must lead you back to no path and no teaching. A true teaching is like a blazing fire that consumes itself. The teaching must not only consume you, but consume itself as well. All must be burned to ash, and then the ash must be burned. Then, and only then, is the Ultimate realized.
~ Adyashanti, The Impact of Awakening

Give in any way you can, of whatever you possess. To give is to love. To withhold is to wither. Care less for your harvest than for how it is shared, and your life will have meaning, and your heart will have peace.
- Kent Nerbern, Letters To My Son - (via Lewis Rothlein's Ashtanga led primary class)


Spiritual Maturity

bridge, Lake Junaluska, Waynesville, NC 

At a retreat a few weeks ago, the teacher quoted his teacher: enlightenment is simply being a spiritual adult.

Agree and believe many of us have a mostly unconscious need to find someone or some systematic path to tell us what to do - to be happy, wise, or enlightened. How do I find Truth, God, or—a rose by any other name? 

The Rose Walk, Lake Junaluska

Someone, show me the way, please! In my case, this conditioning probably came straight from my DNA. Raised a Catholic, my mother's ancestors and I were given a clear-cut map of how to get to heaven. When that no longer made sense to me, I was sure the way was as simple as a macrobiotic diet, and then, encounter groups, Zen, and several other paths to get there 

sign, Lake Junaluska

On a very deep, wordless level I believed it had to be through a teacher or system, one that required me to unconsciously or consciously give up responsibility for knowing truth for myself. 

What is a spiritual adult? Wonderful, grounding, and difficult, at the moment. Getting glimpses of what I can only call truth has not been fun, easy, or for that matter—stoppable. Am thinking the so-called "dark night of the soul" is for some of us—a deep sadness and despair at how utterly alone we are after a certain point.** At the same time, and this feels humorous—I have a serious allergy to proclamations, memes, interpretations of how we should behave, and what we need to do in life. Especially in spirituality words can be so far off the mark, and so solid and inadequate as guides to truth that they become impediments to it. (Slap me with a sweaty yoga towel if I ever start spouting advice here!)

So I give up! The things I care about are falling away, and I'm left with...nothing—which is exactly the point, my teacher would say. No one told me it would be so UN-fun. My yoga practice is in shambles from shoulder pain; genuine communications are at a standstill; dear cat Buster died unexpectedly last week; and my brother languishes in hospice. I don't want to do anything, and so many things hurt in so many different ways.

bridge, Lake Junaluska

Oddly, a useful meme/cliché comes to mind, "It's all good."  And I am doing something: observing, letting things be, not running away/running away, and mostly not looking at life through anyone else's (no matter how venerated) truth lens. 

showing up, growing up
amazing grace

What's in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet

- William Shakespeare

Rose is a rose is a rose.
- Gertrude Stein

sign, Lake Junaluska
a ritual involving Coca Cola or notice that one's travel plans are affirmed?

sign, Lake Junaluska
Am I there yet?

Please excuse the errors and typos in the original post. Edited  4/17/16 

sweet words from Bob Dylan:

You used to be so amused

At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used

Go to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse

When you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose

You're invisible now, you've got no secrets to conceal

How does it feel, ah how does it feel?
To be on your own, with no direction home
Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone