Tag: hope

Hope, Marx, and the Body

June 19, 2014

Posted by Sharon

I have had the great fortune of studying with and, in some cases, just been able to listen to, some people that I would consider to be genuine geniuses. My fortune has been so great, that it would not be possible to list everyone here. One of these people is David Harvey, who I met and studied with when I was a student at the CUNY Graduate Center in New York. David Harvey is a critical geographer and anthropologist with significant passion for improving the conditions of life for humans everywhere. Anyone who has studied Anthropology, or perhaps, any social science, knows that, it doesn’t look good for humans. Almost every ethnography documents some kind of suffering—-the kind that we inflict on each other, the kind that we inflict on ourselves and the tragedies inherent with war, famine, natural disaster, racism, disease and the list goes on. After six years of graduate work in Anthropology, I can tell you that the research consistently reveals that we aren’t that nice to one another and we don’t like to share. Therefore, it is of considerable joy to read the hardly lighthearted, yet somewhat hopeful, work of David Harvey. Specifically, I refer to his Spaces of Hope (2000). Basically, the news still isn’t good, but Harvey presents small flickering lights in the tunnel of human doom that provoke the reader to become a part of something bigger than themselves in the name of the greater good. The other risk of reading Harvey is that you have a song in your heart for Balzac, Marx and Benjamin even though you’ve never had the least bit of desire to read their work.

What role does Karl Marx and the body play in all this? Harvey (2000) suggests that Marx, “…from the Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts onwards, Marx grounded his ontological and epistemological arguments on real sensual bodily interaction with the world (Harvey 2000: 101).” Here, Harvey quotes Marx (1964 edition, 143):

Sense-perception must be the basis of all science. Only when it proceeds from sense-perception in the two-fold form
of sensuous consciousness and of sensuous need–that is, only when science proceeds from nature–is it true science.

What is not discussed here is how, for many of us, we have lost our sense perception. Many of us dis-abled our tools of sense perception somewhere along the way and now we move in a most un-sensual way through the world separated from our bodies. We do not know hunger or fullness and spend a remarkable amount of time in some variation of the over-pose: over-whelmed, over-ate, hunched over, over it, over you, over and under—-trapped. One of the only sensations we recognize is discomfort. While this can be seen as negative, this discomfort is an invitation to return to a sensual state and to notice how we feel. For many adults, this discomfort encourages a first experience with yoga and many new opportunities for health and wellness.

If all you feel is discomfort, there are two things that you can understand that may be helpful:

1-As you are human, and your discomfort is part of your experience, you can now be open to a deeper sense of compassion for all other humans. I invite you to sit and feel your discomfort and know that you are not alone. We can use our own suffering as a connective link to all living beings.

2-No matter where you are and no matter what your circumstances, if you can feel discomfort, there is still hope! If you have remained sensual enough to feel this pain, then you can use these sense organs to feel non-pain. You can use the skills of yoga and movement to wake up these capabilities that you have for something different. Something better!

Here is a short exercise that you can do for as long as you like or as short as you like and wherever you are right now. This is the exercise of pure sound:

Take a moment to open your hearing senses and listen to sound without judgment. No, it isn’t easy when you’d like to throttle your neighbor for power washing his driveway each time you try to take a nap with your newborn. But, just for the sake of this exercise, hear the power washer minus the judgement. The same goes for hearing something lovely, like the song of the Cardinal outside your morning window. You might hear this lovely bird-song and suddenly wish that it would never end, or think of some other time you heard such a song or you might think that it is time to purchase more bird food. The idea is to just listen—-without the stories, ideas, thoughts and negative or positive judgements. As soon as your mind starts to wander from the pure sound, let go and return to a sensing of sound. Don’t get frustrated if this takes work. It is work. This work helps us understand the quality of our thoughts and how so very much of our experience is determined not by reality, but by what we are doing with it. The mind is constantly moving, but the more we can create some space between experience and thought about the experience, the more rested, relaxed and clear we are. Less angry, less in pain, but more sensual, more open and liberated from the confines of our memories and experiences.

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REFERENCES:

Harvey, David.
Spaces of Hope. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000.

Marx, Karl
1964 edition, The Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844. New York

Spring Meditation #1: Faith

March 2, 2011

Posted by Sharon

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Each year, in preparation for spring, I read this book:

Faith: Trusting Your Own Deepest Experience
by Sharon Salzberg

In my practice of both Catholicism and Judaism, I always appreciated the statements of belief that come at the beginning of a mass or service. I like the idea of a gathering of people who very clearly state, up front, what joins them together and what they wish to publicly announce as their main practices and beliefs. It’s a very powerful feeling to be a part of that prayer. The ability to state, with such certainty, these statements of belief that provide the foundations that both define the religion and the basis of the prayers and practices of that religion, requires faith. By repeating these statements, and especially by repeating them as a group, they provide a significant structure of support for those beliefs and practices. But, it isn’t belief that brings that group together. It is faith.

This book by Sharon Salzberg is a profound exploration of what faith is and how it continues to work as a powerful force even when we feel that we have lost it. Although it is written from a Buddhist perspective, or, at the very least, the perspective of a Buddhist, the ideas can be applied to the human condition in general and are not specific to any particular religious practice. Perhaps, a Buddhist exploration of the idea of Faith can be so open precisely because questioning is an important part of Buddhism. Practitioners are told not just to believe, but that they should practice and see what the reality of their own experience is. Not only are you not going to hell for asking the question, but questioning is an integral part of the faith and practice.

Why this book? Why spring?

First, I learned this concept of re-reading certain books at certain times of the year from my mother. Each December, she would sob her way through the New York City subway system reading Charles Dickens’, Christmas Carol. The first time I read Faith it was in the fall and I was drawn to re-read it that spring. It has become my “spring book” and this ritual is part of my spiritual preparation at the end of winter, when I just can’t take one more minute of cold or darkness, to remember that the seeds of spring have been cradled and nurtured deep within the earth the whole time.

Second, I learned to see that our biggest and smallest choices in life reflect our faith on a daily basis from my father. At a speech he gave at my first wedding rehearsal dinner, he expressed the idea that the act of getting married is one that reflects our ability to have hope and faith. If we didn’t feel like we could carry love into the future, we wouldn’t do it. Even with the awareness that marriages fail, the act of getting married reflects a faith that it is also possible that some will not fail. Our ability to have faith in our relationships, even while knowing that the people we love and that love us the most are not perfect and can’t be loving all the time is a spiritual practice. This preparation for spring and considering the role of faith in my relationships, my work, my family and in my own choices is an important ritual that, just as powerful as a statement of belief, helps me to re-gather my spirit after a time of darkness.

Third, the truth is that I start to lose it by the end of winter. The kind of “losing it” that requires more than a new lipstick to feel better. Reading this book on faith reminds me that the seeds of spring have been cradled deep in the earth all winter long. It is only my inability to see the life and to focus only on what is not living that causes my discomfort and un-ease. Within the ground, not even that deep, lie the bulbs we planted this last fall. They are happy and safe in the darkness of the earth, resting all their forces for the burst of life that will come when they feel the sun start to warm the surface. And this, of course, is a wonderful reminder that I can choose my focus and my perspective at any time, in any season and apply this lesson of spring to all the winters of my life.

Yoga and Hope

May 23, 2010

Posted by Sharon

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In the March 2010 issue of ODE Magazine, there is a thought provoking article, Great Expectations: How hope therapy can help banish mild mood disorders and boost happiness, by Catherine Ryan. Among the many things that I started to think about was the way that yoga promotes hope.

What precisely is hope? Hope is a subtle sensation and state of being, sometimes an emotion, that provides a vague sense that something other than what “is” can be possible. It provides the foundation for every change, every decision and every transition that we find ourselves on the other side of. Without hope, the capacity to love, to move, to grow or to change is stifled and the great shadow of fear and doubt can overwhelm us. Hope is sometimes confused as faith, but although these both require one another, they are quite different. In order to act on hope, one must have faith in the potentially positive outcome of one’s actions. In order to have faith, there must be a song of hope in one’s heart or the faith grows hard like the stone of dogma.

The kind of hope that provides a boost to happiness is based on the idea that change happens. Those of us who practice yoga regularly are able to experience this on our mats in every practice. As we move through asana (poses) or pranayama (breathing), it is impossible not to notice that each breath is different, each moment of holding an asana or transition between the asana creates different sensation. Some of these sensations and changes in the breath are not welcome! But, we become uniquely aware through a practice that nothing is the same. If you have not practiced yoga before, this may sound terrifying. But, if you practice regularly, you are nodding your head and perhaps even smiling as you acknowledge the profound sense of liberation that this type of awareness creates. None of us are stuck. Not only do we have the capacity to change, but change is our natural state of being.

According to the psychologists who provided the data for the ODE article, “Hope, as defined by psychologists, is the belief that you have the skills and energy to make your dreams a reality (Ryan 2010: 53).” They suggest that our current emotional state is often determined by our expectations for the future (Ryan 2010: 53). In general, the idea is that hopeful people are happier (53). If this is the case, then one of the best ways that we can cultivate happiness is to cultivate hope. Research also seems to indicate that building high expectations doesn’t set you up for a harder fall (Ryan 2010:54). In fact, high-hopers seem uniquely prepared to bounce back after a fall due to their ability to quickly evaluate a situation and make changes (54). Yoga can play a role here too. What we learn in our practice on the mat is that when we feel something “not quite right” we take a moment to breathe into it. If things don’t change, then sometimes all we need is a soft blanket under our hip, or a block under our hand and, voila!, it feels just right. What we realize is that it isn’t that we aren’t doing a pose “right” or “wrong,” but rather that a simple modification can create an “ah ha!” moment out of an “uh-oh.”

Yoga also helps us learn how to set specific and achievable goals. Apparently, for adults who do not have high-hopes, one of the first steps of hope therapy is to learn how to set a specific and achievable goal (Ryan 2010: 54). In open level yoga classes, some students can do some amazing things with balance, with their strength, with their energy and some students struggle to just sit on their mat or lie still in savasana—yet they are all doing yoga. When we first start out, we realize immediately that, while yoga shouldn’t be goal oriented, we can determine the types of goals that are and are not achievable. It would not be realistic to think that we could come into an advanced balancing pose if we struggle to maintain balance in Warrior I, but it is not unrealistic to think that we can become more aware of our balance and the position of our feet in relationship to the earth. We also find that great happiness and the complete benefit of the practice is available to us no matter what the poses look like. After class, the person who could do a handstand in the middle of the room—feels great. The person who did child’s pose for most of the class—feels great. A regular yoga practice shows us that there is great benefit in simply being present. If that isn’t hope, then I don’t know what is.

REFERENCES

Ryan, Catherine
Great Expectations: How hope therapy can help banish mild mood disorders and boost happiness. IN Ode Magazine, March 2010, pages 53-54.

Written and posted by Sharon Rudyk, Owner and Director of Yoga Matrika located in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.