donutszenmom.com

Why is it difficult to practice? We face a lot of pressure in this world to go fast, and we’ve become very complicated. We have to make our minds simple, present, attentive. If we don’t make our minds simple, it’s very difficult to pay attention to what we’re doing.

I read about an experiment that was done on dogs. I hesitate to talk about it because we want to protect animals from research, but it leads to an interesting point you may have discovered in your own practice. They kept young dogs in cages until they were very, very hungry, then put some food on one end of a special cage. Between the dogs and the food was a metal grid. When the dogs tried to reach the food they received a fairly strong electrical shock. After a couple of times the dogs would not cross the grid even when there was no electricity. Even if the dogs were starving they wouldn’t try it, and they would jump off if the researchers put them on the grid.

Then the researchers went a step further and found the only way to get rid of that conditioning was to hold the dogs on the grid when there was no shock. The dogs didn’t learn very quickly. Each dog went through everything it went through when it was shocked – trembling, screeching, urinating, completely losing control. But after it had gone through this whole reaction the dog would realize there was no more shock, and then it could cross the grid.

This has relevance to us because our karmic conditioning is the same. We’ve conditioned ourselves to react to certain situations. To get free of that conditioning we have to put ourselves into the situation and stay there while we go through all the trembling and sweating and urination in our pants, until we realize there is no shock in the grid. Nothing is really going on there. In my experience the tendrils of karma are very deep. Dharma Master Ji Kwang Dae Poep Sa Nim says, “Your karma seems really heavy. But when you finally take it off, it’s just like a thin piece of paper.” You have to be willing to practice with your whole body and mind to digest it, to de-condition it, and to see very clearly what is there and what isn’t there. Then even a shock won’t affect you.

– Zen Master Dae Bong

[My Gift grew up answering the question "What would Dae Bong do?" Hilarious when applied to schoolyard dramas and high school hijinks. Still, it's never steered us wrong.]

James, not Jane. “I,” not “e.”

I understood that James H. Austin writes about meditation, attention and the brain, but I didn’t realize how prolific he is. Here’s a terrific article that looks at the difference between allocentric and egocentric processing.

I read this paper last night before bed, tried to post the link here, but was somewhat stymied by the iPhone (well, too impatient to use the iPhone and too tired to get out of bed to use the laptop). When I was looking it up this morning, I also stumbled across this older book by Austin and discovered that Csikszentmihalyi has a book on creativity. I think I may have known about this book but set the info aside somewhere in my brain? Either way, I’m psyched to know about it this morning.

Csikszentmihalyi’s book Flow is a classic. If you haven’t read it, check it out. It’ll change your life.

***

Okay, so I’m trying to drink coffee and write this entry, but there’s an intervening factor. Waylon. Who, in this cooler weather, has reverted to sitting on my lap in the morning after his breakfast. Did I mention that he weighs 80 pounds these days?

When I type: si!*d0qjcnksl@)jqwem, that’s me pinned to the couch and smothering under bulldog love.

Interesting podcast with a neurologist & long time zen practitioner. Love the way this guy speaks — talk about geeky! His delivery reminds me of my advisor in grad school.

Very interesting discussion about how the brain pays attention — what structures are involved, and what they bring to the party. I was particularly interested in egocentric processing as distinct from allocentric processing. He makes the case that this is consistent with the difference between concentration states (egocentric) and choiceless awareness (allocentric) in meditation. I couldn’t help thinking of Freud’s “hovering attention” — the centerpiece of psychoanalysis: maybe this is a good example of turning on the allocentric processing?

Regardless, I’m going to think about egocentric vs. allocentric processing at work tomorrow. I have a HUGE preference for allocentric processing, and will be at an all day meeting that involves lots of social stuff. Instead of being cowed by the social requirements, I think I’ll bring experimental mind to bear and look at it all through the allocentric lens. Choiceless awareness, baby!

Mysore practice with The Poetess was good. She has a very sweet, gentle energy, and she is earnest and… well, dear. When you enter the room, she hugs you, and when she adjusts you, she breaths with you as if she hopes her breath can help you. So she’s not just listening to your breath, or aligning with your breath, she’s actually trying to *share* her breath. As I said, very dear.

She also keeps the room a little brighter than MM, which I find super-helpful in utthita hasta padangusthasana.

Gratitude was the name of the game this morning. After a creaky practice yesterday, where I kept feeling a little nervous about my back, I had one of those delightful easy practices where everything feels really sweet. As I’ve mentioned before, if hanumanasana feels great during the standing poses (Yes! Contradiction! Hanumanasana is not a standing pose! This really does bother me, in an OCD way…) anyhow, if it feels really good, then I know it’s gonna be a great practice.

Primary through marichyasana D, intermediate through kapotasana. I’ve been feeling a whimsical desire to get back to LBH poses, but c’mon, it woulda been greedy to go there, first good day after a sore back day. So I let it go.

For now. There is something humorous and sustaining in the LBH work. Something enlivening. I miss it.

***

Before practice, I did a little reading about the “Tail Koan.” I’ve always loved this one. Occasionally I glimpse my tail, and it’s always kinda thrilling. And no, I don’t mean glimpse my tail in the literal I-can-bend-back-and-look-at-my-ass way. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

You know that whole thing of kind of pulling up and out of the lower back, so you’re not sinking into it? Yeah, maybe I got too far out.

My quadratus lumborum’s a little irritated with me. I’ve been focusing on “up and out,” particularly during twists, and I can feel it. So this morning, I went easy. Primary through marichy D, then intermediate through ardha matsyendrasana.

The whole practice was about listening as I went along — I felt like there was healing to be had in practicing, but I also know I need to temper my zeal. And then I also know that I can deceive myself, especially if it’ll further my tendency to be zealous.

I went nice and easy through the backbends of intermediate, culminating in telling MM that I was feeling tweaky when he came over to help me with kapotasana.

“Don’t break me,” I said.

I went into the pose and he just supported my lower back. Asked how I was doing. All was well. He took my hands to my feet, asked how that was. Fine.

When I came out of the pose he spotted me on the “up” vinyasa, then had me lie on my belly. Then he pulled up on the skin that covers my spine — sort of pulling the skin up off the spinal column. It felt REALLY weird, and really cool. I am curious about stuff like that, because I wonder if there’s really an effect from the movement of the skin, or if it’s just a movement of my mind. Either way, it made my back feel better.

I’m thinking (and I know I’m thinking it because I just status-updated it in Facebook!) that I should spend my weekend like a cat. In other words, any time I have the opportunity, I should go to sleep. And any time I need to wake up, I should wake up. Only to sleep again as soom as the opportunity arises.

I’m pretty burnt from work. And from an old dog who sometimes likes to spend whole nights walking around, her long nails clicking on the tile floor until she comes over and puts her grizzly bear head on my pillow to rouse me. And a young dog who rolls around in his crate, snoring and grunting and dream-barking. And from all of my own thinking, of course.

Dharma Overground, I love you, but what’s with all these words?! I’m sure I’ll be visiting more over the weekend, during the waking part of my cat-weekend. I’ll also be reading The Zen Doctrine of No Mind. Hui-neng was illiterate, as well as the Sixth Patriarch of Zen. As D.T. Suzuki notes: “Erudition always tends to abstraction and conceptualism, obscuring the light of intuition.” Still, I can’t seem to put the book down.

Okay, so a weekend of reading and thinking. If I don’t write or talk about any of it, does it make a sound?

Yup, it’s a requirement: go listen to this.

Hardcore teachings, yes. And hardcore speaking!

So. The three trainings: morality, concentration, wisdom.

Oh, I get it: 1) yamas and niyamas, 2) pratyahara, dharana, dhyana, 3) samadhi. Nice.

I love drawing these parallels; they amuse me. Hey, where’s asana and pranayama? I suppose you could make an argument for them as concentration practices.

This reminds me that I came to yoga via zen. I grew very curious about posture. How could I hurt so much when I was just sitting zazen? I was a healthy person, in good shape. Why was sitting kicking my butt? Were there “secrets” to sitting comfortably? Could my posture make me less sleepy (nemesis of my zazen: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz)?

Finally I asked Sokai. He directed me to the Indians. Said they had the inside scoop on the physical body.

So I went. I loved the way yoga felt. I was hooked.

And now here I am, contemplating yama, niyama, asana, pranayama, pratyahara, dharana, dhyana, samadhi. Before, I had precepts and zazen. Now I have precepts, zazen, and so much more.

The Cop had his wisdom teeth out yesterday, so had a dose of anesthesia. I asked him this morning if he remembered the ride home. He said he remembered everything. Yes, he remembered mumbling to me through a mouth full of gauze about the relative merits of Streets of New York’s pizza and Ray’s pizza. But there was one thing he didn’t remember: as we were driving down the street, he turned to me and announced happily, “I’m in the moment!”

“The moment is big when you’re in it, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said, nodding very seriously.

This morning I decided to try a 40 minute practice to stretch my nervous system. Standing poses, intermediate to kapotasana, a handful of ustrasana variations from Matthew Sweeney’s Vinyasa Krama, urdhva dhanurasana, dropbacks to the dune, abbreviated closing. Then a 15 minute savasana. Total time: 55 minutes.

Yes, my nervous system relaxed. But boy, does it have a way to go.

Waylon… um, “helped” from inside his crate in the yoga room. I gave him a beef tendon to keep him busy. Supposedly, they amuse puppies and small dogs for hours. Yeah, well, not so much. First off, he kept dropping it outside the crate, meaning I stopped three or four times during standing poses to return the thing to his crate. Then he managed to swallow the whole thing within about 15 minutes of having it returned to him. Yeah. Hours of chewing fun. Not.

I guess he was exhausted after watching me retrieve his toy, because he promptly fell asleep. Which is actually the ideal state for a puppy during yoga practice.

At that point, the relaxation really began.

P.S. Now that I’m done and have had a cup of tea and am writing, I feel kind of guilty for not having done “enough.” What’s that really about? I’m kind of afraid to really look at that. I suspect it is rooted in personal insecurity and my impulse to achieve and do more more more!

Definitely related to what Owl was talking about when she said:

Westerners have reinterpreted the practice in a way that takes away from the basic keys of

RELAXATION

and

CLEANSING THE NERVOUS SYSTEM

We really do (1) eat like shit, and (2) refuse to learn to relax the whole organism. And then use asana to get a temporary feeling of cancelling out those behaviors.

It’s easy for Ashtangis to get into running on empty, I think. Little sleep, little food, lots of caffeine, long practices — it’s really easy to turn the system into a treadmill, into a grind. And the physical practice feels intense, and the psychological habit feels compelling, so it’s easy to think the grind is proof of the efficacy of the system. Uh oh, potential for a blind loop…

I don’t think this is just about Ashtanga, by the way. You can do it with anything. I’ve certainly done it with cardio workouts, with academic striving, with corporate ladder climbing.

***

Okay, there’s another zen practice to discuss. Bow to your teacher.

It’s an interesting practice. Especially when you add in the following information: your teacher is whoever stands before you.

Oh, this is easy when you’re talking about your kid (yes, we learn from our kids), your dog or cat (they’re particularly good teachers), or your spouse (provided your relationship is in good shape).

What about when it’s the person you really can’t stand at work? Someone who really sets your teeth on edge?

Yup. That’s part of the practice. Now bow! Yes, bow in your mind to the person who torments you.

Why? ‘Cause it’s time for you to get humble and knock off all the high-horse ego stuff.

You go to a teacher’s Mysore room? Yes, you chose to go. Now BE there.

BE in the meeting room with the person who drives you crazy.

Bowing helps you accede to the situation, to the moment, to the present. Notice I didn’t say “surrender”? People have fits about who they’ll deign to surrender to. Whatever. Surrender is a word. Stop being silly.

Once you are present in the situation, you can learn. From your teacher. Who may be someone you think you don’t like. Someone you don’t think is QUALIFIED. (Yes, I AM laughing at you. And me. And all of us.)

Okay, time to stop thinking. Just bow to your teacher.

It’s a practice. Stop judging this idea with your mind. Just try it. It’s a challenge, and fun even if just on that account.

What if you are just present in the moment and open to the teacher in front of you? What if you learn from everyone, whether you like it or not?

What happens then?

***

And here’s my current teacher. Playing Fort-Da.