We Care

Does this seem odd to anyone but me? The universe is the source of life. The Sun provides all the energy for life on Earth as we know it. But we do not conceive of the Sun caring about life. That great big giving machine in the sky just pumps out light and warmth and life, constantly, but we don't feel loved by the Sun.

We want to feel loved consciously through free will. I know I do. Oh, do I! So, with the Sun as my model, I am starting the loving revolution. Through my free will I will love life consciously, asking nothing in return. Join me! Let's be the change we want to see in the world, as Gandhi taught. Love life! Whatever your life is, at this moment, care about that. It's the caring revolution. Feeding the cat? Care! Vacuuming? Care about that. Walking? Care! Paying the bills? Care! Care! Care! Do it even if it annoys middle management, the one in the office, or the one in your mind. It's on baby! This is the revolution. Viva la revolucion.

All One

Rocks, Cars, Shoes, Teeth
The hardness of things,
All One.

Coral becoming teeth becoming coral again.

Oceans, Rivers, Rain, Blood
The flowing of things,
All One.

Water becoming blood becoming water again.

Energy, Light, Heat, Desire
The fire in things,
All One.

Energy becoming desire becoming energy again.

Sky, Vapor, Gas, Breath
The life of things,
All One.

Air becoming breath becoming air again.

Dot, Plane, Interior, Dimensions
The place for things,
All One.

Singularity becoming dimensions becoming singularity again.

Void, Word, Vibration, Creation
The making of things,
All One.

Nothing becoming creation becoming nothing again.

Peace.

Chakrasana

Chakrasana

Now I create this body from rocks and rivers and stars.
Now it moves and breathes in time.

The air we share is our life.

Now I return this body to rocks and rivers and stars.
Now I remain as I am, All This.

Let Us Hold Hands

Let's all hold hands. The people who love Jesus with the people who love Buddha. The people who follow Vishnu with the people who follow the Tao. Let Atheists hold hands with Hasidim. Let the followers of Allah fast at Ramadan while holding hands with Wiccans. Let's hold hands respecting each other's humanness. Yogis and Sufis and people who meet in Longhouses. Agnostics and Catholics and Mauris following their ancient ways. If we are holding hands, we do not have to agree at all. I love the Jesus lover's love of Jesus. Let him love. I love the Siva lover's love of Siva. Let him love. Let the minds in our circle disagree, who cares? But don't let go. "Oh, my beloved brother, your ways are wrong!" Think it! Who cares? But don't let go. Let's stop trying to change each other. And when the end comes, don't let go. Let us go holding hands. Loving each other, let us go. And the one who is holding the key to heaven, open the gate, and don't let go. And the one who recognizes the path, lead the way, but don't let go. And the God who will not take us all together as one? Will we want that God? Or will we laugh together, holding hands and loving the expression on each precious face, perfectly content? Until we find the God who likes us all together as One.

Why Do I Teach Yoga?

I teach yoga to be the aliveness instead of the thingness.

The Little Bird

One of the most inspiring stories I have ever heard is the Buddhist tale, The Little Bird. I have retold this tale in my book in progress, Journal Workbook for Finding Peace Within (It's a working title.). I have a question for anyone who would comment. Many tellings end with a god being moved to bring the rain by the little bird's actions. I removed "god" from this retelling. Do you think it is still warm with that caring consciousness when told this way? Click on "comments" below to share your view.

The Little Bird

Once there was a little bird whose nest was high in the treetops of a beautiful, living forest. On a clear, blue morning the little bird awoke to a sense of panic all around. The forest was on fire. Looking down, he saw his four-legged, six-legged, and many-legged friends running away from the flames. Looking up, he saw all the birds of the forest flying in fear in every direction.

The little bird flew high above the forest. He saw that the flames were coming much faster than many of his friends could flee. To the west was a river. Quick as he could, he went to retrieve water. “Come with me,” he cried to the other birds, who were flying away from the dangerous heat. “Help me put out this terrible fire. See how our friends are suffering below in the forest.” The little bird filled his beak and began to fly back to the fire.

“Turn around, little bird,” the other birds pleaded. “You are flying into harm’s way.”

The little bird shook his head. He flew so hard that his wings ached. Below him the fire licked the heels of a family of deer. He opened his beak and dropped the water. His beak was so small that the little drop of water it held fell glinting in the sunlight only to evaporate in the fire’s rising heat. The little bird did not notice. He was already half way back to the river.

This time, he filled his beak and dipped his feathers in the river. The water made his wings heavy, but he flew back to the forest where so many of his friends had no means of escape. He opened his beak and shook his wings. Still, not a drop reached the fire below. Back and forth the little bird flew from the river to the forest fire.

His wings were scorched, his eyes watered from the smoke, his muscles ached, and his tiny lungs burned. Now, standing alone at the river, he gathered the last of his strength to make the journey back to the fire. The little bird did not notice the rain clouds gathering behind him. This time, as the little bird flew, silently, rain clouds followed. And back at the forest, just as the little bird shook his wings over the fire, the clouds burst open, and it began to rain. Tiny drops from the little bird’s wings fell with giant raindrops from the life-saving clouds. Rivulets traveled sizzling down tree trunks, and rolled across the scorched forest floor extinguishing every spark of the forest fire.

The little bird flew into the cloud to see who had saved the forest. But the cloud was heavy; it was hard to see, and wherever he flew, it seemed it was he alone.

Bird photo by Rob Palmer.