Peter's Ornaments and a candle to light our way with Joy and Hope

……………………

My friend Peter passed away several years ago. This year, his wife gifted me and my husband Peter’s beloved collection of Disney ornaments. His wife told us “Peter will be most happy knowing his ornaments are in a good home.” As we were preparing our Christmas decorations, my husband arranged all the ornaments on our dining room table. He then placed a candle in the middle and lit it. My husband said the candle would help light Peter’s journey, in whatever form that might be at this moment. Then we said a few words of thanks to Peter for letting us have his collection.

To me, the lit candle also represents our own capacities to be a flame that illuminates the path of others. We live in dark times. And yet, there is hope. Each of us, in our own individual and special ways, can be a much-needed flame in the lives of those around us, both near and far.

Back in August, in an OnBeing podcast, a poem by Rainer Maria Rilke was read. It has stayed with me since. Host Krista Tippett had a conversation with Buddhist Teacher, Joanna Macy, and her friend, Anita Burrows, about Rilke’s writings and how they can help us navigate difficult times. Rilke’s poem Let This Darkness Be a Bell Tower moved me deeply:

Quiet friend who has come so far,
feel how your breathing makes more space around you.
Let this darkness be a bell tower
and you the bell. And as you ring,

what batters you becomes your strength.
Move back and forth into the change.
What is it like, such intensity of pain?
If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.

In this uncontainable night,
be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,
the meaning discovered there.

And if the world shall cease to hear you,
say to the silent earth: I flow.
To the rushing water, speak: I am.

If you’d like to experience a fuller effect of Rilke’s words, listen to Joanna Macy's gorgeous reading of this poem (2 min, 15 sec).

As a yoga and Buddhist meditation practitioner, thought-by-thought, this poem spoke to me in many ways:

In yoga, we practice deep breathing in order to create some space around whatever we are experiencing. The space can open up tight spots not only in our body of course, but also in our heart and mind as well.
This space can also help create more balance in our body systems and more equanimity in our heart and mind spaces.
We can be like waves in the ocean in the midst of a storm. We gather more strength (and size) by being tossed about more and more.
We can be like the water in the ocean. Though it be battered by the winds during a stormy night, it flows with them rather than resists them.
In savasana, we practice surrender. Similarly, in life we are really more like the bell itself, surrendering to whoever or whatever happens to be in control of the bell tower at any moment.
And whether the bell is being violently jerked around or gently moving from side to side like a hula dancer’s hips (“ke oni” style), yoga teaches us to move with life, move toward the resistance. Sometimes in a yoga posture, the resistance is light and sometimes it is intense. In either case, leaning into the resistance is what can transform us.
In yoga practice, we lean into the difficulty, knowing the heat or tapas is what will help change us for the better. The “wine” we turn into, so-to-speak, is really a mellow acceptance of the current circumstances of life, knowing full well that we also have within us the capacity to turn this wine into something sweet. Sweetness or bitterness – it is our choice in any given moment.
Pratyahara in yoga refers to the withdrawal of the senses. As our yoga practice deepens and we’re more capable of practicing this, the mystery there at the crossroads reveals itself and the meaning of our life can be discovered. It’s good to sit with silence from time-to-time in order that this mystery be shown – “shone” – to us.
No matter whether others “get us”, the silent earth always will. When the Buddha attained Enlightenment, he turned to the Earth as his witness. We can too.
And whether others are there to support us or not, it is our own acknowledgement of our “I am” that is all that really matters.

As Victor Frankl said, ''What is to give light must endure burning,” so too must we as yogis accept that life isn’t always going to be peaches and cream. But I know that peaches and cream all the time won’t keep my flame alive and burning brightly, so I’m glad not to have the “desserts” of life all the time.

Suffering will always exist. Perhaps that is the very essence of the human experience that we need to lead us ultimately to find liberation from suffering. The Buddha seemed to think so.

Carl Jung said:

As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of being.

And, Maharishi Mahesh Yogi said:

Don't fight darkness. Bring the light, and darkness will disappear.

Together these statements remind me not only to accept that darkness exists but also that there is a Light within me. And, it is my job is to keep my own inner flame lit. Yoga and meditation continue to help me do that. And, as I am in the latter part of my “third-quarter” of life and have given up a lot of the striving that marked my earlier years, keeping my flame lit is a big priority for me now.

What guides me most now is the Buddhist practice of Dāna or generosity. I try to be as generous as I can in as many ways as I can be. Every drop in the bucket counts. Every smile offered to a stranger counts as something which helps me keep my flame alive … and other’s as well.

Winter will always exist. Darkness will always exist. That doesn’t mean we can’t keep our own flame lit. We can choose to do what we can in each moment to keep our own flame lit. Or not.

I don’t know who this person Melanie Camp (RYT 200) is, but she said something that I think is profound:

“No matter how dark the tunnel, it always leads to light.”

Yes, we live in dark times, but remembering this gives me hope. And I hope it can give you hope as well.

My husband and I watched several classic Disney animated movies over the holidays, including Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. It’s hard to believe it was made way back in 1937. It was as enjoyable as ever. Though the wicked Queen cast a dark spell on Snow White, ultimately it was dispelled by the flame of a kiss from her true love. Light and love will always win over darkness. To me, recognizing and remembering this is yoga and the art of keeping the flame lit.

I bow down to all you are doing right now to keep your flame lit.

May you be happy, …
May you be healthy, …
May you do all you can to keep your flame lit, …
May your Light illuminate the Paths of those nearest to you, and ultimately benefit All Beings Everywhere.

Aloha and Metta,
Paul Keoni Chun

……………………

Images from this past month where Light illuminated darkness

The moon as viewed from my apartment window illuminated our way back on December 4th.

Rockefeller Center on December 19. The Angels heralded the star of wonder, star of Light that guided the Three Wise Men to baby Jesus.

We were treated to a spectacular sunset at our home in Florida on December 30th. As day turned into night, Nature's flame shone bright.

Snow flake illuminating 5th Ave.

My friend Bob made this little 15" Christmas tree to brighten -- indeed, lighten -- up my apartment in NYC.

Photo Credits:
Sketch of me by David Buffam.
Photos from around NYC and Florida all shot by me.
Special thanks to Bob Love for the beautiful Christmas tree.

Engaged Yoga

Yoga and the Art of Keeping the Flame Lit

Peter's Ornaments and a candle to light our way with Joy and Hope

……………………

To me, the lit candle also represents our own capacities to be a flame that illuminates the path of others. We live in dark times. And yet, there is hope. Each of us, in our own individual and special ways, can be a much-needed flame in the lives of those around us, both near and far.

Quiet friend who has come so far,
feel how your breathing makes more space around you.
Let this darkness be a bell tower
and you the bell. And as you ring,

what batters you becomes your strength.
Move back and forth into the change.
What is it like, such intensity of pain?
If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.

In this uncontainable night,
be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,
the meaning discovered there.

And if the world shall cease to hear you,
say to the silent earth: I flow.
To the rushing water, speak: I am.

If you’d like to experience a fuller effect of Rilke’s words, listen to Joanna Macy's gorgeous reading of this poem (2 min, 15 sec).

As a yoga and Buddhist meditation practitioner, thought-by-thought, this poem spoke to me in many ways:

In yoga, we practice deep breathing in order to create some space around whatever we are experiencing. The space can open up tight spots not only in our body of course, but also in our heart and mind as well.

This space can also help create more balance in our body systems and more equanimity in our heart and mind spaces.

We can be like waves in the ocean in the midst of a storm. We gather more strength (and size) by being tossed about more and more.

We can be like the water in the ocean. Though it be battered by the winds during a stormy night, it flows with them rather than resists them.

In savasana, we practice surrender. Similarly, in life we are really more like the bell itself, surrendering to whoever or whatever happens to be in control of the bell tower at any moment.

No matter whether others “get us”, the silent earth always will. When the Buddha attained Enlightenment, he turned to the Earth as his witness. We can too.

And whether others are there to support us or not, it is our own acknowledgement of our “I am” that is all that really matters.