"I know that you are there, and I am very happy."
--
One of the major themes I've been exploring this fall is the role of community in relation to healing. One of the first ways I engaged with this topic was through language, but community is more than communication (though that is a big part of it). A sangha is a community of people practicing together (yoga, meditation, mindfulness, nonviolent communication, anything). In Buddhism, it is said that one must take refuge in the sangha. Especially in the fast paced, tunnel-vision world in which most of us live, to feel a part of a community of like-minded individuals sharing your journey, is a true blessing. Your community; the net into which you are woven is your context, your support structure and the space within which you exchange energy (lighting torches and healing). Sitting in a cybercafe in Delhi, listening to the honking horns and the anklets of begging women, I am particularly grateful for my community, though they may not be physically present with me here.
As part of my ILC proposal, I've been trying to engage with "superficial sanghas," or internet based communities of mindfulness, healing, and alternative/revolutionary educational paradigms. However, due to my unpredictable internet access, as well as the slowness of getting the online community I had proposed to develop up and running, I have been feeling a bit of a lack of support/engagement with the work I've been doing. I've been missing the conversations and stimuli that result from an academic community and though I've had the support for my practice, I've been connecting the academic mind to the embodied mind alone- which is a tiresome process. When I approached my TESC sponsor about this issue of community, she said this, "What if this is an opportunity for you to go inwards and have your communty be the silent voices we don't normally have the opportunity to hear? What if this is a chance to write from the meditative mind?"
Well, let me tell you a story:
I've been practicing a mindfullness mantra from one of Thich Naht Hanh's books. Thay says that the ability to be fully present in the moment and recognize another is a miracle. Whether the other is a flower, the moon, or a lover is irrelevant; the key is bring your whole Self into the present moment and simultaneously, recognize your shared energy with another. The mantra is, "I know that you are here, and I am very happy." I found this mantra particularly helpful during the yogasana classes with yogiji in Bhagsu, when I found myself bubbling with anger, or frustration; I would reel myself back to my Self and find something, a bird, a bug, a cloud, the other student, anything, and recognize my shared energy with that being. Sometimes I tried to do it with yogiji, if I was feeling particularly ambitious. I found myself practicing the mantra at night along with my prayers for my family and friends, and when I was feeling homesick, I practiced with the moon.
One morning, as I sat in the small Shiva Temple (it became a sanctuary in the true sense of the word) outside of the yoga hall, I closed my eyes and practiced the mantra outloud. As I did so, I began to lose the sense of who exactly I was. Let me rephrase. I couldn't quite tell if I (Sophie) was recognizing that Shiva was there, or if Shiva was recognizing that I was there. Let me try to explain. I lost a bit of the sense of being separate from Shiva, and I couldn't tell who was saying the mantra. This was cool. So I continued with declarations: "I am Shiva, I am Shakti, I am Yin, and I am Yang, I am my mother and my father, I am my sister, and I am my lover. I am my grandparents and their grandparents. I am my children and my children's children. I am Shiva. I am Shakti. I an Yin. I am Yang. I am this body." (that last one, just to bring me back down...)
And just the icing on the cake:
After talking with my sister over Thanksgiving (which I completely forgot about), I started to feel a bit homesick for my family. I posted on facebook that I missed my community from home, and I got this response from one of my favorite high school teachers, "We miss you too. But know that there are a lot of people on this side of the world enjoying your travels vicariously ... So you actually have lots of people from home with you all the time ... You just can't see them."
Oh, hey, community- there you are... within me. Right.
:-D
--
One of the major themes I've been exploring this fall is the role of community in relation to healing. One of the first ways I engaged with this topic was through language, but community is more than communication (though that is a big part of it). A sangha is a community of people practicing together (yoga, meditation, mindfulness, nonviolent communication, anything). In Buddhism, it is said that one must take refuge in the sangha. Especially in the fast paced, tunnel-vision world in which most of us live, to feel a part of a community of like-minded individuals sharing your journey, is a true blessing. Your community; the net into which you are woven is your context, your support structure and the space within which you exchange energy (lighting torches and healing). Sitting in a cybercafe in Delhi, listening to the honking horns and the anklets of begging women, I am particularly grateful for my community, though they may not be physically present with me here.
As part of my ILC proposal, I've been trying to engage with "superficial sanghas," or internet based communities of mindfulness, healing, and alternative/revolutionary educational paradigms. However, due to my unpredictable internet access, as well as the slowness of getting the online community I had proposed to develop up and running, I have been feeling a bit of a lack of support/engagement with the work I've been doing. I've been missing the conversations and stimuli that result from an academic community and though I've had the support for my practice, I've been connecting the academic mind to the embodied mind alone- which is a tiresome process. When I approached my TESC sponsor about this issue of community, she said this, "What if this is an opportunity for you to go inwards and have your communty be the silent voices we don't normally have the opportunity to hear? What if this is a chance to write from the meditative mind?"
Well, let me tell you a story:
I've been practicing a mindfullness mantra from one of Thich Naht Hanh's books. Thay says that the ability to be fully present in the moment and recognize another is a miracle. Whether the other is a flower, the moon, or a lover is irrelevant; the key is bring your whole Self into the present moment and simultaneously, recognize your shared energy with another. The mantra is, "I know that you are here, and I am very happy." I found this mantra particularly helpful during the yogasana classes with yogiji in Bhagsu, when I found myself bubbling with anger, or frustration; I would reel myself back to my Self and find something, a bird, a bug, a cloud, the other student, anything, and recognize my shared energy with that being. Sometimes I tried to do it with yogiji, if I was feeling particularly ambitious. I found myself practicing the mantra at night along with my prayers for my family and friends, and when I was feeling homesick, I practiced with the moon.
One morning, as I sat in the small Shiva Temple (it became a sanctuary in the true sense of the word) outside of the yoga hall, I closed my eyes and practiced the mantra outloud. As I did so, I began to lose the sense of who exactly I was. Let me rephrase. I couldn't quite tell if I (Sophie) was recognizing that Shiva was there, or if Shiva was recognizing that I was there. Let me try to explain. I lost a bit of the sense of being separate from Shiva, and I couldn't tell who was saying the mantra. This was cool. So I continued with declarations: "I am Shiva, I am Shakti, I am Yin, and I am Yang, I am my mother and my father, I am my sister, and I am my lover. I am my grandparents and their grandparents. I am my children and my children's children. I am Shiva. I am Shakti. I an Yin. I am Yang. I am this body." (that last one, just to bring me back down...)
And just the icing on the cake:
After talking with my sister over Thanksgiving (which I completely forgot about), I started to feel a bit homesick for my family. I posted on facebook that I missed my community from home, and I got this response from one of my favorite high school teachers, "We miss you too. But know that there are a lot of people on this side of the world enjoying your travels vicariously ... So you actually have lots of people from home with you all the time ... You just can't see them."
Oh, hey, community- there you are... within me. Right.
:-D
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