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Last night, The Cop and I went to my parents’ house for dinner and to rescue a couple of palms. Their neighbors wanted to get rid of a couple of small trees, and The Cop and I agreed to be the rescue team. Well, I agreed, and he was the team.

It’s kind of nice because my parents live in Sun City — a retirement community on the other side of the valley. Their neighbors are all old. Having a strapping young fellow agree to pull some trees out of their yard was a welcome treat.

So I had the pleasure of watching The Cop and my Dad work together to try to get the first tree out of the ground. After lots of digging, it turned into a chain-and-truck operation. Fun! The Cop loves tearing things down by strapping a chain to the truck and backing it up.

He looked sweaty and aggravated and as my Mom and I watched through the kitchen window, I said, “He’ll replant it in our yard and forever call it ‘that fucking tree.’” She laughed. My parents love The Cop.

The first tree was such a project that the second tree rescue was shelved. We had dinner with the folks before we headed home with our prize.

At dinner, we had law and order stories — no, not the TV show, the real stories of The Cop on the job. My Dad LOVES those stories.

And then I told them that My Gift’s roommate has decided she wants to raise chickens. The Wacky Roommate became a vegetarian because she dislikes the food animal production cycle. So she figures she will raise and kill her own chickens. My Gift is horrified, because she knows she will grow attached to the chickens. My Gift has been a vegetarian pretty much her whole life.

I’m horrified at the idea that The Wacky Roommate might actually be capable of killing a chicken. The Cop said that he is a hypocrite, because while he eats chicken, he knows he could never kill one (he is a tender-hearted animal lover). My Dad mentioned that as a kid he once killed a chicken for dinner at his Mom’s behest. He didn’t ever want to do it again.

I guess I am behind the idea of people being responsible and killing meat if they really want to eat it — there’s a certain kind of honesty and responsibility in it. Still… why not just skip the whole thing?

And in that mindset, I just read an article about the current meat recall. I imagined, when I first read the headlines, that this was about listeria or possibly mad cow, but as it turns out, it is even more heartbreaking than that.

Westland did not routinely contact its veterinarian when cattle became non-ambulatory after passing inspection, violating health regulations…

Authorities said the video showed workers kicking, shocking and otherwise abusing “downer” animals that were apparently too sick or injured to walk into the slaughterhouse. Some animals had water forced down their throats.

Despite the supposed revulsion of the authorities, the recall isn’t because living creatures who had fallen down and were unable to get back up, or who were injured or crippled or ill, were abused and then slaughtered. The recall is because sick animals may have made it into the food supply.

How does that logic work? Who concocted the “we’re so appalled to see this abuse” spin? The animals were abused. But the recall is in case any of them were sick. It’s not about their suffering or their abuse.

God.

Yoga and zen retreat at the zendo yesterday. Started off with chanting at 5:30. Gah! The chanting stuff. It always makes me feel like hell when we do it first thing. Not sure why. Though starting at 5:30 is much less traumatic than at 3 AM, which is when things kick off when it’s a multi-day retreat. After chanting, tea, then sitting. Ahhhh. Sitting instead of chanting. Already my preferences are kicking in.

Sitting is MUCH easier physically since I started practicing yoga. Duh, right?

After a couple of rounds of sitting, the yoga teacher drops in. We stand in a circle in the zendo and she starts talking. OH HOLY GOD, she’s using Vinyasa Voice! “Reeeeeach up to the beauuuuuuuutiful cloud-filled sky, oooooopen your heaaaaaarts to the grace that is streeeeeeaming down…”

Crap.

I never expected this. They combine yoga and zazen in a retreat and here I am with a huge obstacle in my mind. Definitely did not expect this. Okay, so that begs the question: What WAS I expecting?

Nothing. I wanted to go into it with “no mind.” No preconceptions, just an openness to the experience. Easy, right? Because, after all, it’s about yoga and zen — two of my favorite things.

Except not THAT kind of yoga.

Apparently my no-mind wasn’t.

Sneaky.

***

So I tried to work through my derision. And yes, that’s what it was, I’m very sorry to say.

Not sure what I was imagining (secretly, back there in my sneaky mind) but I suspect it was that we would bust out into some rarified version of primary practice, and then our zazen-prepped minds would launch us into a magical uber-series that transcended… well, everything.

Okay, so I can see why I was disappointed.

***

Breakfast, like all meals at the zendo, was silent and taken on the cushion. You get three bowls, and there is a form that is followed to allow the servers to interact with the practitioners with a minimum of fuss, noise or motion.

First bowl: a kind of porridge with pumpkin seeds and honey. YUM! Second bowl, some pieces of orange. Eh, whatever. Third bowl… Plop, into my bowl goes… Oh, damn, it’s an egg. I don’t like to eat eggs. The whole chicken situation makes me sad and I don’t want to play.

But eggs are precious items at the zendo, which runs on a shoestring. And when you are given food, you eat it gratefully.

Alrighty.

***

I threw away my concentration for one sitting session (25 minutes) to satisfy my curiosity about how much the fellow down the way was swallowing. Yup, I decided I would keep count. Where is Hokaku when you need him? Hokaku sits in the corner and keeps order as necessary. “Wake up!” he yells, or, “No moving!” or, “No yoga breathing!” He has a big voice and it’s shocking as hell to hear after hours of silence.

“God, I wish Hokaku was here,” I thought when I first became aware of the swallower.

Then, of course, his persistence started to make me crazy.

And then I thought about how he was sitting there, thinking he was drowning in his own spit, which surely is unpleasant.

The thing is, though, the swallowing thing is like the itch thing. It seems overwhelming, but if you leave it alone and don’t respond, it goes away.

That’s how Hokaku rolls. He screams, “NO SWALLOWING!” and the offender then has to sit and NOT swallow. And after doing it for one, two, or however many sessions it takes, the person realizes that the sensation that one will DIE if they don’t swallow is just a nervous tic of the mind.

Sokai, who was running the retreat, is a more progressive sort, I guess. He’s gonna let the swallower swallow until he figures it out on his own.

Not sure which is more compassionate. I guess this is one of those same or different questions.

And not for me to say.

Swallow count (25 minute session): 15. After that, I gave up noticing, though I did check back at the very end of the day, and The Swallower was clocking in at more than one per minute. More practice is necessary. For both of us.

***

What do I “get” out of practice? Always an interesting question. In “real life” we tend to wonder what we’ll “get” for doing just about anything we think is worthwhile (i.e., exchangeable). How much should I get for doing my job? How much extra (bonus!) for going above and beyond? What do I get out of different interactions with people? Etc., etc., etc.

Expecting to get something — even ineffable things, is such a good source of disappointment! What did I think I would “get” out of the retreat yesterday? I thought I was going into it without expectations, with “no mind,” but I guess, since I was surprised when the teacher busted out with Vinyasa Voice, I must have had some kind of secret expectations.

C.K. recently posted a link to an article about Dharma Mittra. In it, he speaks about merit/benefit.

The mistake so many yoga students make is expecting benefits from their practice, Dharma says. “That is the natural tendency. People are always expecting. If you practice meditation, you’re always expecting to have some results. Even in your prayers, you’re always asking, asking, asking.” Expectations frequently give rise to disappointments. When selfishness is stripped from the practice, when the ego recedes, the benefits will come, and swiftly he says.

Let’s see. I know the zen fellows had much to say about expecting stuff. They were particularly derisive about the idea of expecting to get merit for one’s actions.

Huang Po, will you weigh in?

One should emulate the great earth. All Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, devas and human beings tread upon the earth, but the earth does not rejoice because of this. When the sheep, oxen, ants, etc., tread upon it, the earth does not become angry. Adorned with jewelry or rare fragrances, the earth does not give rise to greed. Bearing excrement and foul smells, the earth does not exhibit hatred or disgust. The unconditioned Mind is without mind, beyond form. All sentient beings and Buddhas are not different; the Perfectly Awakened Mind is thus. If Dharma students are unable to let go of conditioned mind suddenly, and instead practice in other ways, many kalpas may pass but they still will not have reached Bodhi. Because they are tied down by their thinking of the merits of the Three Vehicles, they do not attain genuine liberation.

Most people’s minds are hindered by the mind-realms and only perceive the Buddha principle polluted by and mixed with phenomena. Thus, they are always trying to escape the mind-realms and calm the mind. To attain Pure Mind, they attempt to eradicate phenomena and keep the principle, not realizing that the mind-realms are hindered by Mind and that phenomena are hindered by the principle. Without mind, the realms are empty; when the principle is tranquil, so are phenomena. One should not turn the Mind upside down for some personal use. People do not really want to realize the state of being “Without mind”, fearing that if they fail at their attempts at cultivation a one-sided emptiness would result. Foolish people only try to wipe out phenomena but do not wipe out mind. The wise man wipes out the mind and does not bother with phenomena. The mind of the Bodhisattva is void, having abandoned all and grasping neither bliss nor merit.

Hongzhi Zhenjue, what do you think?

Forgetting About Merit Is Fulfillment

Separate yourself from disturbance and face whatever appears before you. Not one iota seeps through from outside. The two forms (yin and yang) have the same root, and the ten thousand images have one substance. Following change and going along with transformation the whole is not clouded over by previous conditions. Then you reach the foundation of the great freedom. Wind blows and moon shines, and beings do not obstruct each other. Afterwards, settle back within and take responsibility. Wisdom returns and the principle is consummated. When you forget about merit your position is fulfilled. Do not fall for occupying honorable stations, but enter the current of the world and join with the delusion. Transcendent, solitary, and glorious, directly know that transmitting is merit, but having transmitted is not your own merit.

***

P.S. Entry:

The Cop just got up, had his coffee, and, as I discovered, read this post. As I walked past him into the kitchen, he burst out with, “Reeeeeach up to the sky, Kaaaaaren. Let the clooooooouds urinate in your ooooooopen moooooouth….”

He should be a yoga teacher.

Yes, it’s Saturday, a day off from work and practice. So why did I get up at 4 AM? A one day retreat at the zendo. A yoga and zen retreat. I’m very curious about this. I think they’ve brought in a local teacher to talk about yoga as an aid to sitting. A physical aid, I imagine. Could be wrong, though. Maybe we’ll talk some philosophy.

Speaking of philosophy. Yesterday, Cody mentioned raja yoga. Which sounded familiar to me, but I needed a refresher. So I turned to wikipedia. Oh yes, a familiar list: yama, niyama, asana, pranayama, pratyahara, dharana, dhyana, samadhi. I sang the words in my head, just as I learned them from Volleyball Guy.

And then the breakdown of yamas: ahimsa, satya, asteya, brahmacharya, aparigraha. Yup, chanted them in my head to remember them. Just like in practice with Volleyball Guy.

And the niyamas: sauca, santosha, tapas, svadhyaya, isvaraprandihana. I remember the day he taught us that. And all the days we chanted them.

And then I remembered the discussions about dharana, dhyana and samadhi — the concepts that I, coming from zen to yoga, could recognize and feel at home with.

So as it turns out, I learned Ashtanga yoga (SKPJ’s sequence of poses) AND Ashtanga yoga (Raja Yoga is sometimes referred to as Ashtanga — eight-limbed — yoga because there are eight aspects to the path to which one must attend.).

I wonder if this is usual practice? To learn both? VBG actually teaches the second Ashtanga more persistently and holds it in highest regard. I love that I learned it by the oral tradition (I can pretty much only remember the limbs, yamas, and niyamas if I chant them like the alphabet and then translate them into English in my head). This is really saying something, because I am astonishingly language-learning challenged.

Anyhow, I am grateful for what I’ve learned, and how I’ve learned it. I feel very lucky. Thanks, VBG!

Coldplay at practice this morning. Very nice.

***

The tyranny of success. It breeds a belief that we can bend everything to our personal will. Dangerous place to go. And God forbid, we use our practice to shore up that delusion.

In practice, in those “successful” poses, the ones that are easy or that you can zip through, there can be spots of blurriness, where you kind of gloss over the moment(s) of the pose — where your consciousness is working to avoid experiencing the pose, to avoid experiencing any difficulty or lack of ease or even any difference from yesterday’s practice. Yikes! I thought it was the difficult poses, the impossible poses, I was trying to solve for. Turns out it may be the successful ones that are most insidious…

All I have to do is wake up, right? Experience where I am now. Don’t gloss over the moment with “success,” or “I’ve got this one,” or what I want, or a sense of mastery.

Dealing with other humans makes for a great practice: there is an impulse to have mastery over one’s experience, to “know” the other person (always an illusion), or insist they do what you want (even if it’s an unspoken, passive kind of insistence). These are great ways to avoid actually experiencing another person, a great way to dissociate yourself from the moment. And as with people, so with asanas.

Repetition certainly can exacerbate this impulse. I had this fleeting vision in practice this morning, of a series that is simultaneous – that transcends the sequential. In the meantime, though, I guess I’ll just try to work my way past the tendency to inject a sense of mastery into life by gaming the fact of routine. That routine — it looks like mastery on the outside, but it’s just a glossing over, a closing down, an avoiding.

Be here now.

Put everything down.

Stop fussing about ME. (Gah! The tyranny of ME! How tedious that little show is.)

Right or wrong is never the point. Good and bad are never the point. Getting through the moment “successfully” is never the point.

Being present. Yeah, that’s it.

My Gift just sent me a link to one of our favorite science writers: Oliver Sacks, neurologist, humanist, and delightful writer. The link is about migraine, a subject of great interest to both My Gift and myself, as we are (as are the majority of people in our family) migraineurs. I used to get pain after the aura, but for the past almost 10 years the pain has not been an issue; all I get now are the visual and neurological effects. It’s kind of cool.

For Valentine’s Day, I sent My Gift a Playstation 2 and her favorite video game, Amplitude. She left those two items behind when she went off to school and The Cop sold them on eBay or Craig’s List or something. Anything that is left around for more than a minute or two gets sold online by The Cop. If ever I go missing, head over to Craig’s List and search for “Small woman, obsessed with yoga and deeply attached (with great delight) to the relative.” And then, buy me back! Actually, The Cop mostly buys and sells cars and trucks and motorcycles. He likes to have a project in the garage at all times, and has done all kinds of work on his various mechanical toys, which are then sold before the next toy moves in.

Despite his bad habits of selling other family members’ stuff and swearing (loudly) at projects in the garage, I got a Valentine’s gift for The Cop. Check it out. I always feel like a big space-hog when I go to a shala with my black mat. I lent my extra one to The Cop when he wanted to practice with me, but even though the Manduka is big, it cannot contain his vinyasa-y goodness. Seriously. His feet always go off the end. And not because of poor form or lack of control. It’s ’cause he’s 6’2″. Is the 85″ mat a lot longer than the 70″? Well, yeah, duh, by 15 inches. Seriously, though, when you unroll this thing, it seems to go on forever. It’s kind of hilarious.

So My Gift has a new toy and The Cop has a new mat. A big mat for a big man. Wink, wink. Happy Valentine’s Day, honey!

The mind of the Great Sage of India is intimately conveyed from West to East.
Among human beings are wise ones and fools,
But in the Way there is no northern and southern Ancestor.
The subtle source is clear and bright;
the tributary streams flow through the darkness.
To be attached to things is illusion;
to encounter the absolute is not yet enlightenment.
Each and all the subjective and objective spheres are related,
and at the same time independent.
Related, yet working differently.
Though each keeps its own place,
form makes the character and appearance different.
Sounds distinguish comfort and discomfort.
The dark makes all words one;
brightness distinguishes good and bad phrases.
The four elements return to their natures as a child to its mother.
Fire is hot, wind moves, water is wet, earth hard.
Eyes see, ears hear, nose smells, tongue tastes the salt and sour.
Each is independent of the other.
Cause and effect must return to the great reality.
The words high and low are used relatively.
Within light there is darkness,
but do not try to understand that darkness.
Within darkness there is light,
but do not look for that light.
Light and darkness are a pair,
like the foot before and the foot behind in walking.
Each thing has its own intrinsic value
and is related to everything else in function and position.
Ordinary life fits the absolute as a box and its lid.
The absolute works together with the relative,
like two arrows meeting in mid air.
Reading words you should grasp the great reality.
Do not judge by any standards.
If you do not see the Way, you do not see it even as you walk on it.
When you walk the Way, it is not near, it is not far.
If you are deluded, you are mountains and rivers away from it
I respectfully say to those who wish to be enlightened:
Do not waste your time by night or day!

– Shitou Xiqian

Pec pain. Last night, The Cop laughed at me and said, “It’s Karen logic: ‘Oh, my shoulder can’t rotate in either direction, but that’s okay, because my chest is opening!’”

Today I really did back off. I think.

Put the consciousness in my legs and moola bandha and set off. Practice was good, though the pec was pretty achey for the second half of primary.

Got to urdhva dhanurasana and collected my prize for being good: I’ve been pushing and pushing to get my hands closer to my feet, my chest more open, etc. Tightening the bow, basically. Today I went with a looser bow, a backing off, and in it, I found a super lightness in my arms. All of the energy/weight was in my legs and moola bandha, and my hands are starting to come up off the floor a bit. A new kind of counterbalance. Wouldn’t have found it if I’d been working harder.

So I’ll play with light and loose for a while.

And then go back to tightening the bow.

Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

***

From Moola Bandha: The Master Key:

The yamas were designed to harmonize one’s social interactions, while niyamas were intended to harmonize one’s feelings. Together the yamas and niyamas were taught in order to reduce friction between one’s outer actions and inner attitudes.

This is a really interesting book. I totally didn’t get it the first time I read it. Important to keep going back to the things you can’t understand…

***

Thanks for the suggestion about lying over the blocks, Arturo. I didn’t have time this morning (yes, another early meeting!) but will try it later. A good way to keep the muscles open without putting too much stress on them.

Early meeting this morning. And a late night last night — dinner/drinks at The Cop’s sergeant’s house. We didn’t get home and to bed until (gasp!) 10:30.

So practice this morning saw a tired, grumpy Cop practicing along with me as I zipped through primary. Four breaths per asana. I didn’t tell him about it, because I was curious if he’d notice. He took his shirt off when we finshed up standing poses, looked a bit sweaty at dandasana, and I heard him panting a tiny bit during the marichyasanas.

As we finished up, I asked if practice seemed quick. He said that it did.

“Four breath per pose because of my meeting,” I said.

“More like two breaths.”

Usually he knocks off at navasana, then does his urdhva dhanurasanas, then an abbreviated finishing and a lightning fast savasana. At which point he hops up and makes a run for the kitchen, where his second cup of coffee is waiting. This morning, though, he paused to share his thoughts.

“It’s too bad, really, how you sped through practice and didn’t have time to experience each pose.”

I think he was just messing with me.

***

My persistent pec pain is not subsiding. Why? Well, because I keep pushing at it, tearing into those urdhva dhanurasanas and stretching over the rack. It occurred to me this morning that I might want to back off a tad. I’m never sure how to think about this impulse. With supta kurmasana, it was all about pain in my collarbones for a LOOONG time. And then it went away. Is this the same thing? My usual mode is to ignore pain until I just can’t, and in this case, the pain is not so bad that I can’t keep ignoring it, but when does that add up to negligence?

Or maybe I am just attached to no-pain.

Ah, the slippery slope. Blur those edges of overthinking and ignorance and psychospirituality. The tyranny of hyperarticulation?

Two words.

Chili relleno.

Gah! What was I thinking?

Mexican food is spicy and that makes pitta go crazy. This morning, as we stood next to each other on our mats, I kicked at The Cop. “Don’t make me angry and wanting to fight before yoga,” he said. As is the custom in our house, I then said, “Touch gloves.” We touched our fists together like fighters at the start of a match. Then we breathed in and began the suryas.

Did I mention the chili relleno?

I had a very heavy tummy this morning. My joints felt fabulous, as they often do after I eat fatty food, but the penalty (pepper burps) was too great.

***

Started a really interesting book last night: In Defense of Food. The whole “food science” thing freaks me out to start with. I mean it’s cool to know how leavening works chemically to make a cake rise (I’m less bitter about the whole thing now that the oven seems to be back on track) — but this book is talking about the food science that fiddles with nutrients and processes food-like pseudo-food to sell to people for profit.

It was fascinating to read about the way the industry focused on macronutrients (i.e., protein, carbs, fats) and then started mucking about with proportions, etc., in order to deliver “healthy” nutrition. The catch: these “ideal” ratios of proteins/carbs/fats are then delivered in a processed food item designed for maximum “deliciousness.” Except that deliciousness is processed, too, and messes with the organism’s taste and ability to discern healthy food.

I love this book because I don’t like processed food, and if other people catch on to the idea, I won’t be the weirdo eating rice and veggies at work anymore. We’ll ALL be doing it!

***

Yesterday I had a huge hankering for barley tea. I had some in Singapore. It reminds me of zendo meals. Basically, I love the stuff. So when The Cop and I were out running errands yesterday, I tried to find some at Whole Foods. No luck.

Sure enough, though, I found a recipe online. All I need is some barley. So I wrote “barley” on the shopping list for this week. The Cop does the shopping, I do the cooking. As I was leaving for work this morning, he reviewed the list because, according to him, sometimes I put weird things on the list.

“Barley?!” he exclaimed.
“Yes, for my tea,” I said.
“Where do I find barley?”
“I told you last night, remember?”
“Yes. I wasn’t listening.”
“It’s a grain. It should be near the rice. All I need to do is roast it and then boil it in water and strain it for tea.”
The Cop laughs delightedly, “Whoa! That’s gonna suck!”

***

Urdhva dhanurasana update: Things are going well. Current focus is on stretching open from the ribs to the hips. At least I’m thinking about the front of my body. That’s a new one! Incremental progress…

***

Today is the last day of Lurkers’ Amnesty. What a fun thing that was. Feel free to de-lurk anytime you like, folks. It’s really nice to hear from people.

Tomorrow the baton is passed to you, Yogamum. Everyone! Go over there!

Wow, what a practice this morning. One of those ones where I kept thinking of things I should do and things I should write down and things that I should think about. Yikes. It really wasn’t until bhujapidasana that I kind of settled down.

You know, we always tend to think of practice as a kind of ideal situation, where you have a long string of Yoga Journal moments, but how often is that really the case? I consider myself very lucky because I get a good number of blissful practices. But the bumpy ones, the ones where I have pains or am just dragging my sad ass through the sequence, well, those are the practice, too. And not just a sketchy part of the practice. Nope, those moments are as legit as the spectacular moments. I think the “yoga industry” has done us a disservice by taking pictures of people always at the top of their form. YJ makes it look like some people have 100% perfect practices and the rest of us are either losers, or people who just need a little more practice in order to have a 100% perfect practice. As if you can crack some barrier and then always be perfect. In the end, though, I think it’s more like a batting average. I’d love to ask Richard Freeman or Tim Miller what they figure their lifetime blissful, easy practice average is.

Okay, so forget the nice clothes and the pristine space and the new mat. Get your shoddily-clothed (or underpants-wearing) sluggish butt on the floor of your dust-bunny ravaged home (or shala) and set to it. THAT’S what practice is.

***

As Christopher Walken wants more cowbell!, so yogis want more moola bandha.

The mind is illuminated in stages as the kundalini rises through the spinal cord, piercing the chakras. it does not actually travel through each chakra one by one, but ascends the sushumna to the brain and sahasrara chakra where all the chakras are situated. It actually works on them at a psychophysiological level, that is, on brain and mind simultaneously.

The scriptures indicate that in order for kundalini to achieve its final upward movement to sahasrara it must first pierce through three major granthis (psychic knots). These are brahma granthi, vishnu granthi and rudra granthi, situated in mooladhara, anahata and ajna chakras respectively. Each granthi represents a particular state of consciousness, or attachment, which acts as an obstacle on the path to higher awareness.

1. Brahma granthi, situated in mooladhara chakra, symbolizes attachment to possessions — body, material objects, etc. It is associated with feelings of lethargy and ignorance, and minfests as severe limitations in the ability to act.

2. Vishnu granthi, situated in anahata chakra, symbolizes attachment to people inclusing relatives and friends.

3. Rudra granthi, situated in ajna chakra, symbolizes attachment to psychic visions and powers (siddhis).

Kundalini cannot begin or continue to rise until the granthis are pierced or, in other words, attachment is broken.

The scriptures go on to state that by the practice of the three bandhas (moola, uddiyana and jalandara) the sixteen adharas are closed. Adhara means ‘a support, a vital part.’ The sixteen vital parts are the thumbs, ankles, knees, thighs, prepuce, organs of generation, navel, heart, neck, throat, palate, nose, the middle of the eyebrows, forehead, head and brahmarandhra (the aperture in the crown of the head through which the soul is said to leave the body at death). When the sixteen adharas are closed, the consciousness becomes completely introverted with no means of escape, and meditation spontaneously takes place. This moola bandha helps us to gain deeper internal meditative states. It also pierces brahma granthi, liberating us from attachment and taking us inward.

Through the practice of moola bandha the yogi attempts to reach the source or ‘moola’ of all creation. His goal is the complete restraint (bandha) of the patterns of consciousness (chitta) which include mind (manas), intellect (buddhi) and the ego (ahamkara). Through controlled restraint, he achieves union with the universal flow.

***

The “more cowbell” reference reminds me of my favorite Christopher Walken SNL skit: The Continental. It seems like everyone is familiar with “More Cowbell!,” but few have seen “The Continental.” So check it out here.