Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu

This mantra is especially dear to me, as it is the core mantra of Jivamukti yoga.  I’ve been chanting it for about 15 years now…it only gets better and better. It’s always the right time for this one.

English Translation:

May all being everywhere be happy and free…and may the thoughts, words, and actions of my own life contribute, in some way, to that happiness and to that freedom for all.

 

Shanti (Peace) Mantra

OM

Asato Mā Sad Gamaya

Tamaso Mā Jyotir Gamaya

Mrtyor Mā Amrtam Gamaya

Śāntih Śāntih Śāntih

*** 

Lead me from untruth to truth.

Lead me from darkness to light.

Lead me from death to immortality.

Peace Peace Peace

 

Guru Mantra

 

Guru Brahma, Guru Vishnu, Guru devo Maheshwara, Guru sakshat, param Brahma, tasmai shri guravay namah

Our creation is that guru (Brahma-the force of creation); the duration of our lives is that guru (Vishnu-the force of preservation); our trials, tribulations, illnesses, calamities and the death of the body is that guru (devo Maheshwara-the force of destruction or transformation). There is a guru nearby (Guru Sakshat) and a guru that is beyond the beyond (param Brahma). I make my offering (tasmai) to the beautiful (shri) remover of my darkness, my ignorance; (Guru) it is to you I bow (namah).

Viparita Karani

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[LRY yogis enjoying some rest]

Legs-Up-The-Wall Pose (Viparita Karani)

(vip-par-ee-tah car-AHN-ee)
viparita = turned around, reversed, inverted
karani = doing, making, action

There’s a general consensus among modern yogis that Viparita Karani or Legs-Up-The-Wall Pose may have the power to cure whatever ails you, including:

  • Anxiety
  • Arthritis
  • Digestive problems
  • Headache
  • High and low blood pressure
  • Insomnia
  • Migraine
  • Mild depression
  • Respiratory ailments
  • Urinary disorders
  • Varicose veins
  • Menstrual cramps
  • Premenstrual syndrome
  • Menopause

It’s simple, all you need is a wall (and maybe a blanket or bolster under your hips if you want more cushioning) and even just doing 3 min of this posture feels incredibly revitalizing. Enjoy 🙂

Nada Yoga Workshop- 6.18.17

Nada Yoga: Nada Thing but Love in My Heart

 

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with Julia Howe Sullivan
June 18, 2017
9 am- Noon
$45
Register Here

Our mind becomes easily absorbed in sound. This is why we all – even babies and animals – enjoy listening to music. When the mind is fully concentrated on something, a feeling of inner bliss is able to emerge and expand. Nada Yoga means “Union through Sound”. This practice is the ancient spiritual art and science of inner transformation through sound and tone. In this workshop, we will explore both outer and inner sounds as a means to open our hearts and cultivate energies of peace, compassion, and love. Through music, mantra, chanting, and other techniques, we will travel the path that leads directly to the energetic heart’s center, dwell in that space, and send the high vibrations back out into the world.  If the weather permits, portions of this workshop will be held outdoors.  This workshop counts toward 300 hr certification.

Please Call Me By My True Names

Please Call Me By My True Names

-Thich Nath Hanh
Do not say that I’ll depart tomorrow
because even today I still arrive.

Look deeply: I arrive in every second
to be a bud on a spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with wings still fragile,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
in order to fear and to hope.
The rhythm of my heart is the birth and
death of all that are alive.

I am the mayfly metamorphosing on the surface of the river,
and I am the bird which, when spring comes, arrives in time
to eat the mayfly.

I am the frog swimming happily in the clear pond,
and I am also the grass-snake who, approaching in silence,
feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks,
and I am the arms merchant, selling deadly weapons to Uganda.

I am the twelve-year-old girl, refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean after being raped by a sea pirate,
and I am the pirate, my heart not yet capable of seeing and loving.

I am a member of the politburo, with plenty of power in my hands,
and I am the man who has to pay his “debt of blood” to, my people,
dying slowly in a forced labor camp.

My joy is like spring, so warm it makes flowers bloom in all walks of life.
My pain is like a river of tears, so full it fills the four oceans.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and laughs at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart can be left open,
the door of compassion.

The Forgotten Dialect of the Heart

How astonishing it is that language can almost mean,
and frightening that it does not quite. Love, we say,
God, we say, Rome and Michiko, we write, and the words
get it all wrong. We say bread and it means according
to which nation. French has no word for home,
and we have no word for strict pleasure. A people
in northern India is dying out because their ancient
tongue has no words for endearment. I dream of lost
vocabularies that might express some of what
we no longer can. Maybe the Etruscan texts would
finally explain why the couples on their tombs
are smiling. And maybe not. When the thousands
of mysterious Sumerian tablets were translated,
they seemed to be business records. But what if they
are poems or psalms? My joy is the same as twelve
Ethiopian goats standing silent in the morning light.
O Lord, thou art slabs of salt and ingots of copper,
as grand as ripe barley lithe under the wind’s labor.
Her breasts are six white oxen loaded with bolts
of long-fibered Egyptian cotton. My love is a hundred
pitchers of honey. Shiploads of thuya are what
my body wants to say to your body. Giraffes are this
desire in the dark. Perhaps the spiral Minoan script
is not laguage but a map. What we feel most has
no name but amber, archers, cinnamon, horses, and birds.

-Jack Gilbert