tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88594001141482990542024-02-18T19:37:40.441-08:00gina zimmerman yoga a love storygina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-6471552843020512872015-06-02T14:28:00.004-07:002015-06-11T12:46:01.170-07:00it's been a while and thank you, ojai, <br />
..for welcoming us.<br />
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i found this at the grocery store.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaoj3SwCaZ1e0SwtzqEyhbLJqwUc5H0Qp5j_S293uf0aFSgUstB4tXa367Sz6nSO8uL_5EuisNYbcygGCvt8jpOEev_L3WEb71GpOMbZndg66jyLUn1X4ODZnHYuJu9MKFFchTw7ZFpvOW/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaoj3SwCaZ1e0SwtzqEyhbLJqwUc5H0Qp5j_S293uf0aFSgUstB4tXa367Sz6nSO8uL_5EuisNYbcygGCvt8jpOEev_L3WEb71GpOMbZndg66jyLUn1X4ODZnHYuJu9MKFFchTw7ZFpvOW/s320/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtq25wFmaa7OSh1DyrsBf5ukhbn3OahRnM5HeEyOm3xoR8H0xH7zhq7HWLCzlo_adKPVqPtiPZ5V3rlSQz5XgN6kjqvio3ym36Y5ehJl9qkZhnju6-Be033LmYDe9cVdlwOwbXPyLbbgXC/s1600/FullSizeRender+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtq25wFmaa7OSh1DyrsBf5ukhbn3OahRnM5HeEyOm3xoR8H0xH7zhq7HWLCzlo_adKPVqPtiPZ5V3rlSQz5XgN6kjqvio3ym36Y5ehJl9qkZhnju6-Be033LmYDe9cVdlwOwbXPyLbbgXC/s320/FullSizeRender+%25281%2529.jpg" width="125" /></a>i am so grateful to call you home and for this guy to grow up under your oaks and with your raggedly refined country dreams. </div>
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gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-36360515496928613472013-11-07T22:42:00.001-08:002013-11-07T22:42:20.886-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQMus4G7T9XjhQRJr8ryWtS-RP7ZJJo3nouoUFlBvgygCbZjrVhO7tYc336FYSF9BYcpLEm0Ux6gJSGnl4OUAYPgWfkUiLenf3tmChioJjUrmbKFWmrJYL0Gvsgb9AFMGE0y7j-xZxhiIY/s1600/tumblr_lniwi7AIBY1qzcab6-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQMus4G7T9XjhQRJr8ryWtS-RP7ZJJo3nouoUFlBvgygCbZjrVhO7tYc336FYSF9BYcpLEm0Ux6gJSGnl4OUAYPgWfkUiLenf3tmChioJjUrmbKFWmrJYL0Gvsgb9AFMGE0y7j-xZxhiIY/s200/tumblr_lniwi7AIBY1qzcab6-1.jpg" width="195" /></a></div>
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from <b>Laurie Anderson</b>, in her testimonial to her husband and partner, <b>Lou Reed</b>..."As meditators, we had prepared for this – how to move the energy up from the belly and into the heart and out through the head. <b>I have never seen an expression as full of wonder</b> as Lou's as he died. His hands were doing the water-flowing 21-form of tai chi. His eyes were wide open. I was holding in my arms the person I loved the most in the world, and talking to him as he died. His heart stopped. He wasn't afraid. <b>I had gotten to walk with him to the end of the world</b>. Life – so beautiful, painful and dazzling – does not get better than that. And death? I believe that <b>the purpose of death is the release of love..."</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><span style="font-size: 12px;">Read more:</span><span style="font-size: 12px;"> </span><a href="http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/laurie-andersons-farewell-to-lou-reed-a-rolling-stone-exclusive-20131106#ixzz2k28xyQyF" style="color: #003399; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;">http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/laurie-andersons-farewell-to-lou-reed-a-rolling-stone-exclusive-20131106#ixzz2k28xyQyF</a><span style="font-size: 12px;"> </span><br /></span>gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-47150158171696784132013-08-01T18:06:00.004-07:002013-08-01T18:07:12.599-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR_uUEwvmOlCarMFB5E3uC7Os-T-n_HObnrXFUbIN7TdTc5Dh_3hd4DSg7rIKHMdoD9wsacxWpdNDZWmLt4IA3drgrCXXbK56UCQBvjiNryRal8G5-d5fFPWBz_JXlppub5-wDkSxS2PTh/s1600/belowoceansurfac.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR_uUEwvmOlCarMFB5E3uC7Os-T-n_HObnrXFUbIN7TdTc5Dh_3hd4DSg7rIKHMdoD9wsacxWpdNDZWmLt4IA3drgrCXXbK56UCQBvjiNryRal8G5-d5fFPWBz_JXlppub5-wDkSxS2PTh/s200/belowoceansurfac.jpeg" width="200" /></a><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 21px;">"That luminous part of you that exists beyond personality – your soul, if you will – is as bright and shining as any that has ever been. Bright as Shakespeare’s, bright as Gandhi’s, bright as Mother Theresa’s. Clear away everything that keeps you separate from this secret luminous place. Believe it exists, come to know it better, nurture it, share its fruits tirelessly."</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; line-height: 21px;">-George Saunders </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 21px;">(from his <a href="http://6thfloor.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/07/31/george-saunderss-advice-to-graduates/?_r=5&" target="_blank">commencement speech</a> </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">at Syracuse, 2013)</span>gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-43485806695108703962013-06-15T11:16:00.000-07:002013-06-15T11:16:42.808-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtml8kqcB4viCUuh9enjoLQhAC8pR9TluJEUWVjZcu3QeCRVQAoY-qikeX4j8x2IxP-bwQ22gJ2givyWDzhQZN95FGCqmzrG8K9i9XNWzeIfmYJ7DC2AGs2skZRnXNA0o8NH_BTl1hCoRv/s1600/hafizlovepoem.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtml8kqcB4viCUuh9enjoLQhAC8pR9TluJEUWVjZcu3QeCRVQAoY-qikeX4j8x2IxP-bwQ22gJ2givyWDzhQZN95FGCqmzrG8K9i9XNWzeIfmYJ7DC2AGs2skZRnXNA0o8NH_BTl1hCoRv/s640/hafizlovepoem.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-73705640087091486332013-06-12T08:39:00.003-07:002013-06-12T08:39:41.676-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHUNf2bDeqmCZbCRveS8kCANNTNkUt3nFaBZ-RmPOALeXo3W4Qzl7nNumbBZsJlWIZuUlemgLV7T5INX4B1oRJI39sEgVrgQtTNeZhuFpNgNpER3FmSLQBrKPzNCGpm5JCP9U1b91e5McJ/s1600/tumblr_lnw6406m3v1qzcab6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHUNf2bDeqmCZbCRveS8kCANNTNkUt3nFaBZ-RmPOALeXo3W4Qzl7nNumbBZsJlWIZuUlemgLV7T5INX4B1oRJI39sEgVrgQtTNeZhuFpNgNpER3FmSLQBrKPzNCGpm5JCP9U1b91e5McJ/s320/tumblr_lnw6406m3v1qzcab6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; line-height: 22px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; line-height: 22px;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.”</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; line-height: 22px;">-Simone Weil</span></div>
gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-38853795768101517032013-06-05T11:04:00.001-07:002013-06-05T11:04:38.794-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjljTCI5v9YQR9nnpgnjs0g3d35h5cIygd3RnO28VkOYMS1Kg6w0vIurpRFUOJ8XN9dj6QS4G_Remya_-7znzhNn0dy8HZJgKm53N-jVXFZgcivAJqBLg2Q6Lv9wSewemlKhjJyekxOkb3O/s1600/unbelievable-places-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjljTCI5v9YQR9nnpgnjs0g3d35h5cIygd3RnO28VkOYMS1Kg6w0vIurpRFUOJ8XN9dj6QS4G_Remya_-7znzhNn0dy8HZJgKm53N-jVXFZgcivAJqBLg2Q6Lv9wSewemlKhjJyekxOkb3O/s320/unbelievable-places-8.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">dear __________,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">thank you for this opportunity to love greatly.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">with my heart,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">{you}</span>gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-50130576990763354102013-05-13T21:38:00.001-07:002013-05-14T10:12:04.535-07:00night blooming jasmine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5smNPBRigNdQIc14_nsUxrhnPWchfK42oX1haN7OzCvd6EFEgy40awPmx8z4fYDlwJSr-sRAoQ2OIvKszco2vARxsQOEktwQdMt7LZvt_sFLps0vId4ncgws3jeNZcHVAi7qZ-MicibVO/s1600/bloomingjasmine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5smNPBRigNdQIc14_nsUxrhnPWchfK42oX1haN7OzCvd6EFEgy40awPmx8z4fYDlwJSr-sRAoQ2OIvKszco2vARxsQOEktwQdMt7LZvt_sFLps0vId4ncgws3jeNZcHVAi7qZ-MicibVO/s320/bloomingjasmine.jpg" width="203" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">los angeles offers a very sweet return in exchange for its intense, hot days: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">the jasmine that blooms here at night; so pleasing and so bold that it's almost audible, as song.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">the hotter the day, it seems, the more dulcet this atmosphere of scented-night.</span><br />
<br />gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-32495448264524773022013-05-07T15:26:00.000-07:002013-08-01T18:09:52.189-07:00radiance<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">When we hear the beckoning of the heart, we are being asked to open. </span><span id="docs-internal-guid-6e859344-8544-fde2-068b-2dddfed141c8"></span></div>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-6e859344-8544-fde2-068b-2dddfed141c8"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Sometimes this heart-speaking will be quiet; other times, deafening. In this domain, the force of silence is as powerful as pot-clanging loudness.</span></span></span></div>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-6e859344-8544-fde2-068b-2dddfed141c8"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></span>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-6e859344-8544-fde2-068b-2dddfed141c8"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We are being called to some action. Whether it appears grand in nature or of a tiny dailyness, every request of the heart takes us directly into the center innermost part of some thing, thereby returning us to the heart of everything. </span></span></span><span id="docs-internal-guid-6e859344-8544-fde2-068b-2dddfed141c8"></span></div>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-6e859344-8544-fde2-068b-2dddfed141c8"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When the heart next summons, we will have the choice, once again, to open or to remain closed.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">Often, the possibility of opening collides with the impulse to close. Both are real; we are both. To describe these moments: standing on the edge of our territory of comfort, wanting to dive, and then pulled back, often as though by some physical force, to the apparent safety of familiar ground, my teacher says we are being, 'wrestled into smallness'. There is real desire to open, but then the gale force of the fear of the vulnerability of the opening pushes us to the ground, nails digging into dirt.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">At this 2013 Spring-time, flowers that have been fed by sun and water in their below-ground chamber begin to stir, being called upward, cracking from seed and pressing their first green into the springtime air. I am reminded of Anais Nin’s oft-quoted words about the flower, flowering-forth: ”And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">There is a yogic teaching about the nature of the rose...in order to unfold as the open rose, the flower can no longer be a bud. This is simple, descriptive: the bud must cease to exist in order to take its new form as the open flower. In order to open, we must give-up our closed state. In order to open, something must die. </span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-6e859344-8544-fde2-068b-2dddfed141c8"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">So, the next time your Heart calls you to new places, you will, once again, make the choice whether to risk your next opening. Perhaps, this time, you will allow the fertile death of your next birth. Allow the death of your smaller state. You will not mourn your smallness.</span></div>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-6e859344-8544-fde2-068b-2dddfed141c8"><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 15px;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></span>gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-81176716004897310332013-05-07T13:59:00.000-07:002013-05-07T13:59:10.983-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCy_SO5I0leMNczVTrf6lWOw3sBLXVII90F1OPpvmKZc5_H0_p6tc91ngcTbVRmDzhXPeqaJ0fSfOAIjDItFa4rBdWOPFiyFhqGjjMykj1FVEVLFtIFj6vtUVjbStAVragwdZHMsBCoGSe/s1600/quillpen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCy_SO5I0leMNczVTrf6lWOw3sBLXVII90F1OPpvmKZc5_H0_p6tc91ngcTbVRmDzhXPeqaJ0fSfOAIjDItFa4rBdWOPFiyFhqGjjMykj1FVEVLFtIFj6vtUVjbStAVragwdZHMsBCoGSe/s200/quillpen.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>practice idea</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">ask; and write. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">often, the action of inquiry, as well as the question itself, will assist in piercing through the dullness/agitation/fatigue of any given moment, and return us to the heart. sit in a quiet space, perhaps after meditation, ask; and write.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">any authentic question, posed into the subtle field, will work</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">. here's one possibility: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">what does it mean for awareness to rest into itself?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-11544126085472043082013-03-12T19:52:00.003-07:002013-04-04T08:38:57.288-07:00pocket full of love<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> stuff some of these in your pockets:</span></b></div>
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<a href="http://www.poets.org/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="" border="0" height="388" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTabHOyUxYXq2P_FPL_UzTbhBO1X8kzmoBG8gEIvgPjj8TYt4-e9yEqDGMQlIv7NxQAhf_e-hTaBc689UfRyOYf7DcAz0PCKrXITqcU-XHME9a830SRB6r3QQ8QxT0sztY2TqijXjwfkDX/s400/poetrypocket_NEW.jpg" title="" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-82133312090014296232013-01-10T15:13:00.002-08:002013-01-10T15:13:29.619-08:00Malibu Canyon Retreat: February 21-24, 2013<h2>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We're heading back to Malibu Canyon for a final retreat!! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">February 21-24, 2013</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIRgSfjXwuYuyheJZ_Im_WnSa1t-La5RI0ffU44PAp9GDxLHVmlRAfpujRStQ_KX-FjyLU1goay-IUm7-JBn3XkeIIp4vwwvzp4WHWCm3CdzdGFRyx_zuPHlUC_hwSTEJjPXCTG1EVIZj_/s1600/udayakitchen.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIRgSfjXwuYuyheJZ_Im_WnSa1t-La5RI0ffU44PAp9GDxLHVmlRAfpujRStQ_KX-FjyLU1goay-IUm7-JBn3XkeIIp4vwwvzp4WHWCm3CdzdGFRyx_zuPHlUC_hwSTEJjPXCTG1EVIZj_/s200/udayakitchen.jpeg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDkTxUq1yE5foHMofOFOIP85VOrNjeBQm8mN59pnACWKqWAc5q4Nljj9d6C9zbNIWBrhE4Sjwv9ouSvrdSR9HacTDjky1yFqc-o8yMGUg4CWxede1ZSEirNvhXtysLa3edArvBii2OW-eo/s1600/udayascenic1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDkTxUq1yE5foHMofOFOIP85VOrNjeBQm8mN59pnACWKqWAc5q4Nljj9d6C9zbNIWBrhE4Sjwv9ouSvrdSR9HacTDjky1yFqc-o8yMGUg4CWxede1ZSEirNvhXtysLa3edArvBii2OW-eo/s200/udayascenic1.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jokw1jf4p56dxeL5IPZDkR_9NtGBOyhX0bFJUJ3xd14iTqE7iiu91iMgbQgpOHplijrRlx-NkdvJx52BbgV9PK2TTro1WkbVGeC45aJvTlh4ordI8Xohf2HEWhLu3eRFZ_QqOWuNxxw9/s1600/udaya(bird's-eyeview).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jokw1jf4p56dxeL5IPZDkR_9NtGBOyhX0bFJUJ3xd14iTqE7iiu91iMgbQgpOHplijrRlx-NkdvJx52BbgV9PK2TTro1WkbVGeC45aJvTlh4ordI8Xohf2HEWhLu3eRFZ_QqOWuNxxw9/s400/udaya(bird's-eyeview).jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtiuy-B2Dfy8MYgldw9LtIdVICXP_LLKRN1ZBfhp_6e8hLOvpBvD6vOozLQLg-J5ZdVULiMt3LIV8NquIc1pRYGpesSSUWUMG7hsEerG4rs8tVzyHUn_DGOSnpekmyJM3HyxZnw2AcwEjm/s1600/udayacommonspace.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtiuy-B2Dfy8MYgldw9LtIdVICXP_LLKRN1ZBfhp_6e8hLOvpBvD6vOozLQLg-J5ZdVULiMt3LIV8NquIc1pRYGpesSSUWUMG7hsEerG4rs8tVzyHUn_DGOSnpekmyJM3HyxZnw2AcwEjm/s200/udayacommonspace.jpeg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFytFaGUMKoVJY3fYqOR-CBSzRJD4A9ALR3uTkiADR1R00DjsZTui-pec2_cbbZSXXADJgXOsrs70KGvg-C22eb1lj3vWr0LBavbCPOuMt3Kd2ZYOg_wQHQ_-wdImzhJaK0z2K4ZGH9yLK/s1600/udayayurt1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFytFaGUMKoVJY3fYqOR-CBSzRJD4A9ALR3uTkiADR1R00DjsZTui-pec2_cbbZSXXADJgXOsrs70KGvg-C22eb1lj3vWr0LBavbCPOuMt3Kd2ZYOg_wQHQ_-wdImzhJaK0z2K4ZGH9yLK/s200/udayayurt1.jpeg" width="200" /></a><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: center;">More info and Sign-Up </span><a href="http://www.ginazimmermanyoga.com/" style="font-size: xx-large; text-align: center;" target="_blank">HERE!!</a></div>
<br />gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-55221549482037809172012-11-06T13:03:00.001-08:002012-11-06T13:03:04.120-08:00riddle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW34UfeFPY0kWfCjLJWzpNVp7QtcgTAys2LrFWmVmqrbi1hINGSf9TWs8O7wVCJpE50KbV8erdDBo549XAAq61CXj-Ks60EMw1VEZfD9RZUjo4vR8zVUjLi004mFY1aIC2mJM-6rZAVNlJ/s1600/heartwingsdesertdancer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW34UfeFPY0kWfCjLJWzpNVp7QtcgTAys2LrFWmVmqrbi1hINGSf9TWs8O7wVCJpE50KbV8erdDBo549XAAq61CXj-Ks60EMw1VEZfD9RZUjo4vR8zVUjLi004mFY1aIC2mJM-6rZAVNlJ/s320/heartwingsdesertdancer.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Q: <span style="font-size: large;">Where</span> is a whisper as loud as a roar?<br />
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A: in the heart<br />
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*the heart's silent impulse is as loud as its mountaintop proclamations...in this great domain, silence is audible, as love songs settle back into their place of origin, to rest and then echo forth again through the eyes of another beloved.*</div>
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<br />gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-30106155074367720372012-05-24T15:09:00.001-07:002012-05-24T15:09:47.951-07:00<div align="right" style="font-size: 11pt; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri,Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">"By churning the innermost space of our deepest Reality, </span><span style="font-family: Calibri,Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">we are inviting benevolence, goodness, love, intelligence, clarity, </span><span style="font-family: Calibri,Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">and strength. We are inviting the exquisite upsurge of compassion, wisdom, divine Love, and divine blessings in our life." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri,Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> <wbr></wbr> <span class="il">Paul</span> Muller-Ortega</span></div>
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<br /></div>gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-65019700815723611222012-05-04T11:31:00.001-07:002012-05-04T11:31:38.515-07:00<div style="text-align: right;">
nerding out at the tadasana festival in santa monica a couple of weeks ago...i'm on the left in this pic, trying out these new yoga 'eggs' (<a href="http://www.threeminuteegg.com/">http://www.threeminuteegg.com</a>)..in the place of traditional blocks, they're pretty incredible, for realz. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDNvFOeuWBy_PzJXu3L0Ks6r1_9pnuogL_vcG29Fwu_EfjcjUbrpP_12dZANjBo4-gUXhFcHTMRJPFsMRZQtwIDRdpPQrHGPDc3xw9Q5cWQtMl8XH634ADBH6c69y53RRM2qLLVlHXp6Nz/s1600/inwheel(oneggs).png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDNvFOeuWBy_PzJXu3L0Ks6r1_9pnuogL_vcG29Fwu_EfjcjUbrpP_12dZANjBo4-gUXhFcHTMRJPFsMRZQtwIDRdpPQrHGPDc3xw9Q5cWQtMl8XH634ADBH6c69y53RRM2qLLVlHXp6Nz/s320/inwheel(oneggs).png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-55233527889236905532012-03-10T11:00:00.004-08:002012-03-10T11:10:40.282-08:00<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-style: italic;">...<span style="font-family: georgia;">grace corporeal</span>....</span></span></span><br /></div> <span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></span></span></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">{these words from the the poem patti smith wrote for the memorial of her great LOVE,</span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">robert mappelthorpe.</span><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">everything we practice can be found in these two words.}</span></span><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QorS11oIy-6zjIgGyGxLRzyQm9uJvj_igqv7wb_qPNbTCeV8j8HCbhhwRfo3dBezY2zIGfY4C9mRnOYejdu_FxU2SWFinphN5x7Ip0qcg34r2PcJgYblFpbK5_ZkqTza5oCHF9Gw9ivZ/s1600/memorialpoem.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 154px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QorS11oIy-6zjIgGyGxLRzyQm9uJvj_igqv7wb_qPNbTCeV8j8HCbhhwRfo3dBezY2zIGfY4C9mRnOYejdu_FxU2SWFinphN5x7Ip0qcg34r2PcJgYblFpbK5_ZkqTza5oCHF9Gw9ivZ/s200/memorialpoem.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5718346794493058514" border="0" /></a></div><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></span></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;">from <span style="font-style: italic;">Just Kids </span>by Patti Smith</span><br /></div>gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-11677227225428174352012-03-07T08:36:00.007-08:002012-03-07T08:47:46.123-08:00travels<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipqPeML0grkjbERZWig_vujqqpJGDe85Jlnh0DB_GO5xKk1GwIWKL1GkXVv6sezs6NeKsd3ZoAFxNlS9yvlSqNb_yu2qZtwhw_DzCZTuiuG4tbcDKNOioFDeD3RYWXf1wBs4wjk1P_1t6j/s1600/portablealtarmilan%25282.18.12%2529.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 177px; height: 236px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipqPeML0grkjbERZWig_vujqqpJGDe85Jlnh0DB_GO5xKk1GwIWKL1GkXVv6sezs6NeKsd3ZoAFxNlS9yvlSqNb_yu2qZtwhw_DzCZTuiuG4tbcDKNOioFDeD3RYWXf1wBs4wjk1P_1t6j/s200/portablealtarmilan%25282.18.12%2529.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717197161799310146" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I've been traveling with a client for the past three weeks...<br />la-nyc-milan-nyc-la-nyc-new orleans-nyc..back to los angeles on friday. missing you all.<br /><div style="text-align: right;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">a few portable altar pics:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibjddjHU3i_i4OWLjhhp0nphZ2hqHkhyphenhyphen-aGziLTsuhMNnyG-G9_B-kXhKYa3LawL2cj867GAgor944Rj1VnVw5yIcX3z65fkjHBXd4Avsj3BRlVHMvQFtOMnFi4W7_GoicXS1rSbTVM39S/s1600/portablealtarnyc%25282.24.12%2529.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 170px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibjddjHU3i_i4OWLjhhp0nphZ2hqHkhyphenhyphen-aGziLTsuhMNnyG-G9_B-kXhKYa3LawL2cj867GAgor944Rj1VnVw5yIcX3z65fkjHBXd4Avsj3BRlVHMvQFtOMnFi4W7_GoicXS1rSbTVM39S/s320/portablealtarnyc%25282.24.12%2529.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717195701096911522" border="0" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzrNU3VArZRZ0zmaCa1O8yu6rWM73o_vskM1l3XiYf_Ocpt80RSrYoKP8oiOPJKeiG7vwEyyKFxl2Ld1koeG87Kjy5KztE4uMRff9YxzTCWq1sfM1ZTQcIM9N8i_YNiOowvoLysV2nY0sY/s1600/portablealtar%2528nyc2%2529.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzrNU3VArZRZ0zmaCa1O8yu6rWM73o_vskM1l3XiYf_Ocpt80RSrYoKP8oiOPJKeiG7vwEyyKFxl2Ld1koeG87Kjy5KztE4uMRff9YxzTCWq1sfM1ZTQcIM9N8i_YNiOowvoLysV2nY0sY/s320/portablealtar%2528nyc2%2529.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717196256722272018" border="0" /></a>gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-13572211316267675772011-08-04T13:42:00.000-07:002011-08-04T13:43:08.550-07:00new altar at home studio!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ-HfLsHp0xdoXtMUDFy1avj_q4ckm4U2hxbhq8yzxHDLv3BK8-wEqSeNRqbzL_9pAMcbSSTXP9mOFeADKOl39TUAgdEqvIajr2EsE6cp_S8o-0_DqISBf31ZS2HhsJr8rOtLsFmwdWkGF/s1600/newaltar2%2528aug2011%2529.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ-HfLsHp0xdoXtMUDFy1avj_q4ckm4U2hxbhq8yzxHDLv3BK8-wEqSeNRqbzL_9pAMcbSSTXP9mOFeADKOl39TUAgdEqvIajr2EsE6cp_S8o-0_DqISBf31ZS2HhsJr8rOtLsFmwdWkGF/s400/newaltar2%2528aug2011%2529.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637104120497953490" border="0" /></a>gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-20701650553242375132011-08-02T01:42:00.001-07:002011-08-02T01:42:45.104-07:00altars and devotion<span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;" ><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr-kiQ2JqA1v39Eez0W8cdpq2S6XaOOizn6IAiO83yYYtsytKR4cOrRLG-1sBOkgjS00ln2zEHDYrzmc0ltqBjstb6tFG8d37JcGBRb_rNY6MrcT2baOSnsawGdHNpv3LhlwqBKOeaGwl7/s1600/homealtar.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr-kiQ2JqA1v39Eez0W8cdpq2S6XaOOizn6IAiO83yYYtsytKR4cOrRLG-1sBOkgjS00ln2zEHDYrzmc0ltqBjstb6tFG8d37JcGBRb_rNY6MrcT2baOSnsawGdHNpv3LhlwqBKOeaGwl7/s320/homealtar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574107705572837570" border="0" /></a><br /></span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" id="internal-source-marker_0.22719133534197566">Often new students of yoga are put-off by what feel like the foreign or even seemingly religious elements of the yoga room. In addition to yoga mats and props, one is likely to find an altar as a central element in most any studio in the country.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It can feel affronting to walk into a studio and find an altar with Hindu statues or other Eastern deities adorned with flowers and candles, or photographs of the Guru and other spiritual teachers.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">If the student is connected with a religion of her own, this iconography might feel like contradictive or even sacrilegious idolatry. If she is an atheist or skeptical about the verity of religion, an altar can be disorienting all-together.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">In order to understand our feelings toward the altar at the yoga studio (or in the church, temple, or Prince concert for that matter) we need to examine how we feel about DEVOTION.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">What does it mean to be devoted? What is reverence? Is devotion always 'to' something, and if so, what?</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">We’ve gotten so ensnared in this question of ‘to-what?’, that it is literally killing us. We find ourselves perched on devotion’s most pernicious outer fringes: atheism and fundamentalism. Religion has gotten us into trouble, and we’re confused. We think that belief will en-trance us into submission and mind control, or, on the other hand we’re not thinking at all, and our critical lack of critical thinking is mistakenly being though of as devotional. For many of us, religion looks like extremism, and we don’t know how to talk about God without thinking of a fictitious patriarch in whose name many have suffered ordeals of discrimination and death.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">We’re missing something so fundamental that it could be at the heart of everything that ails us. We are already connected. We are not, nor have we ever been, truly separate from eachother, from ourselves, or from that source to-whom we might be devoted if we were willing to give it a shot. At the heart of our lack of devotion we encounter our deepest isolation.</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The yoga lineage calls this </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">anava mala</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">. In simplest and admittedly limited terms, </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">anava mala </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> is the primary misunderstanding of humankind: we perceive ourselves as separate from a greater whole. This is the human condition. This is our primary human injury, the stuff wars and deceit and simple day-to-day anxieties are made of. We yearn for connection yet fail to recognize it; we ache for this connection yet we resist its grace. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Back to the question of ‘to-what?’: to what would we be devoted?</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Our dis-ease with this condition, and even the very question itself, stems from our sense of separateness. If we are separate from a cohesive unifying force, devotion resembles subservience. If we are devoted to someone or some outside power, we fear that we are interned by ‘his’ or ‘its’ superior authority. We fear a loss of autonomy and freedom. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">There is a Sanskrit term for devotion that changes things entirely. The word is </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">saranah</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">, which most closely translates as: ‘taking refuge’ . Our taking refuge is INTO freedom itself. We aren’t shackled by our devotion, we are freed by our devotion</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: bold; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">.</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> The power of the great FREEDOM is received, and it begins to flow through our lives. If we can SURRENDER into devotion, we find ourselves more alive and deeper in love than we could have ever imagined. Having dropped our perceived separateness, we sense that we are devoted ‘</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">into</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">’ something, rather that ‘</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">to</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">’ some outside entity: the river flows into the ocean.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">This entire inquiry is explicated by the image of </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">pranam,</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> a fully prostrate bow. The concept singes the edges of our Western comfort zone perhaps even more than the image of the altar. Outside of specific rigorous religious traditions, this is foreign to us. We are starkly uncomfortable throwing ourselves at the ‘feet’ of anyone or anything. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Herein lies the yogis’ radical shift in perspective, the magical changing of the lens of perception: what if we were to look again and see the </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">pranam</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> as a DIVE. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It is essentially the same corporeal shape: the arms are overhead and the head is down-turned, belly facing down. Seen as a dive rather than a bow, however, we can see devotion the way yoga sees devotion: as a full, willing surrender, as a dive into the ocean. The individual wave settles back into the deeper waters of the sea; the raindrop falls to the surface of the lake and becomes the lake. The wave is still there and the raindrop is still there, yet by dissolving our basic resistance, our shelled-in anxiety, we find that we can take refuge in the great source that we were already a part of all along. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">We don’t lose ourselves when we surrender, we RECEIVE ourselves when we surrender.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: Arial; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span>gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-40238754528053181462011-07-31T13:49:00.000-07:002011-08-02T01:31:42.923-07:00portable altar series<div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;" >Further on the subject of altars</span></span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;" >: a portable altar is a valuable addition to spiritual practice. It enunciates the idea t</span></span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;" >hat our practice itself is portable, as its true residence is within the inner heart.<br />We are the location for practice, wherever we happen to be.<br /></span></span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;" >It is helpful, though, while traveling, to assist your grounding by setting up a simple altar when you arrive at a new destination. The anxiety that is often stirred by travel is anchored by the altar--we are reminded of our practice and re-stabilized by its support.<br /></span></div><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;" ><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >I have a mini altar set in my car all the time, and when I go anywhere I pack it into a silk pouch and take it with me. You can make an altar out of anything...a few suggestions below:<br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >-travel candle<br /></span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >-any small statues of deities that you are drawn to<br /></span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >-crystals/rocks/other beautiful objects<br /></span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >-photographs of teachers or beloveds<br /></span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >-incense/sage or rosewater (to clear space)<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;" >-it is nice to place a flower or plant on the altar once you arrive<br /></span><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;font-family:georgia;"><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >below are photographs of my portable altar, set-up at various places where i've been over the past few months.<br />(a couple of them belong to friends who did the same:)</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div></div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY5LFntaHJgLOnPoTHJPlbomgsp_MOVoIgDCq0pFG1ykQ6YSi3MQeMWUGRMri9aotx-WAptOrgdFveEYa9MzecybpUcz7RvKpLfLSqqeU74KO3NyzdfR_U8oAIQsdEa_5wM8D_thvQL5ul/s1600/portablealtar%2528austin1%2529.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; 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width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJGOWakcKhX1jrMNNQb6zZtPQDOqElQZiNpMt6Uk8jZa5yOkQqMDCBkn1yV3Sx5Aj-M6Cu1atNqoBZbntMgpAR0dsxjc_biMAlDQTtOw8Z3ny2c05A6PgvsBIwskpYz3SWoTyQ5Ed4wFsu/s200/sfwindowaltar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586300016885956386" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_MHm-g_gRcomRjAsNbNZplpB0WLfEWE80sIDbZSPmIU4GTh4bOiPxEZPnv_0eFgwAhvozuyxwBZrh7RMS_5ocWdY0dWtjGomf1E2jH_x2tGm1z3MmydbBrhW4UXqtPuuIveE1UsW6a1Qi/s1600/portlandaltar.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 181px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_MHm-g_gRcomRjAsNbNZplpB0WLfEWE80sIDbZSPmIU4GTh4bOiPxEZPnv_0eFgwAhvozuyxwBZrh7RMS_5ocWdY0dWtjGomf1E2jH_x2tGm1z3MmydbBrhW4UXqtPuuIveE1UsW6a1Qi/s200/portlandaltar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621186716264729890" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPxLeomknPVe1Yl4XFgmF7bMr6pc7TJhSCG6_j2lFnI7oWishE6m10T1P47bUEdGAM99k8JyP4H0iyQ_LIe6rkBsDsgXN_sq739DGbYrsleZAhTVXcFz5tip4CriToLfFL7lv_0COvHBBm/s1600/caraltar2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPxLeomknPVe1Yl4XFgmF7bMr6pc7TJhSCG6_j2lFnI7oWishE6m10T1P47bUEdGAM99k8JyP4H0iyQ_LIe6rkBsDsgXN_sq739DGbYrsleZAhTVXcFz5tip4CriToLfFL7lv_0COvHBBm/s200/caraltar2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621188237756028898" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghdLfLyZurl62CaXXPftmhLV9ydYQtrv0qEKiaQXYyD4GphKvZoda6w0JcxsZEFBJgTe1Gvi8yHBBoyDak8XhbJPTNLz3G4xeodxGMxYVKOznEzFaJrFfuiryCM4g84vd4C-6uKBWiVROA/s1600/shannonaltarbali.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 149px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghdLfLyZurl62CaXXPftmhLV9ydYQtrv0qEKiaQXYyD4GphKvZoda6w0JcxsZEFBJgTe1Gvi8yHBBoyDak8XhbJPTNLz3G4xeodxGMxYVKOznEzFaJrFfuiryCM4g84vd4C-6uKBWiVROA/s200/shannonaltarbali.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621186821940546626" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbbDgJqt8eOAKUIDsulaUGD2TcuupzewhFkiCGqHHCdazUxSQeTePOkm0FC4RunKwrNUCXsNc-nHDCmM7-58TPJxQTT7aeHlomXfBoWK9O-GVE3Ohyphenhyphen6r-Pe7xxA4TryP6Q_NOqYgnlnWeH/s1600/76.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 98px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbbDgJqt8eOAKUIDsulaUGD2TcuupzewhFkiCGqHHCdazUxSQeTePOkm0FC4RunKwrNUCXsNc-nHDCmM7-58TPJxQTT7aeHlomXfBoWK9O-GVE3Ohyphenhyphen6r-Pe7xxA4TryP6Q_NOqYgnlnWeH/s200/76.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586624935527146994" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmvg87NoF1QzlDnFoJsriFzSjTUeerjpVqnbjCJHp20urA-XoRsQg-Na_47NaP0a4XVmMA0KLlxM9POB56YFzZsOI5n47KNlxMQ37822o-kV28_eQ7xVgoxSOIk1MFm4PTJNS1v62GEQe9/s1600/78.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmvg87NoF1QzlDnFoJsriFzSjTUeerjpVqnbjCJHp20urA-XoRsQg-Na_47NaP0a4XVmMA0KLlxM9POB56YFzZsOI5n47KNlxMQ37822o-kV28_eQ7xVgoxSOIk1MFm4PTJNS1v62GEQe9/s200/78.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586626683454807474" border="0" /></a><br /></span></div>gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-30705728450085838242011-06-02T11:14:00.000-07:002011-06-29T13:31:46.231-07:00<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtL4zbDaehKMDrN3TySakBNM7lSS3pTMVYhBjt4TrdO956f7nTUjbaTsW52JGeEBKHzbnBO0_iuRYYlGn5bl_JU_cyEH-d5kzfYJKYmccl_3q9fzRmbrQRIB1Gu245s333Cvso2Flg8-JM/s1600/tumblr_liblkjYUGf1qa0iz1o1_500.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 156px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtL4zbDaehKMDrN3TySakBNM7lSS3pTMVYhBjt4TrdO956f7nTUjbaTsW52JGeEBKHzbnBO0_iuRYYlGn5bl_JU_cyEH-d5kzfYJKYmccl_3q9fzRmbrQRIB1Gu245s333Cvso2Flg8-JM/s400/tumblr_liblkjYUGf1qa0iz1o1_500.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613782869716249794" border="0" /></a><br /></div><p></p><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-91476470900570823922011-05-22T08:28:00.000-07:002011-06-22T15:50:53.289-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRMEPHiY-Mmi6qqgjd63KX-QZ8ZYCCEwhpb7tvVcNctd7UNDlobRWMtaTQOmTgc9x06NWJ1kL07xyZJvtotYgoGWTdr8emlQOUHZsQynYeE75mc0Ne8wnMz_IAwbDlOf0w83GlaHaWQ8c5/s1600/seed-sprouting-1.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 223px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRMEPHiY-Mmi6qqgjd63KX-QZ8ZYCCEwhpb7tvVcNctd7UNDlobRWMtaTQOmTgc9x06NWJ1kL07xyZJvtotYgoGWTdr8emlQOUHZsQynYeE75mc0Ne8wnMz_IAwbDlOf0w83GlaHaWQ8c5/s320/seed-sprouting-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609564980517978274" border="0" /></a>These fierce moments of grace call to us to awaken from our old patterns of conditioned existence and embrace the insecurity of living life from a place beyond our habitual fears and conditioned responses. Life calls each one of us to find a way, both personally and collectively, to allow life’s fierce grace to open our hearts and minds to a new state of consciousness from which to act and relate to the world within us...These fierce moments of grace are in many ways the most spiritually important moments of our lives.<br /><div style="text-align: right;"><br /><div style="text-align: right;">~ Adyashanti<br /></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div>gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-7277678214094903672011-04-08T14:09:00.000-07:002013-05-07T15:15:50.762-07:00eternal sunshine<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKBa0fDzq6fxqAw1uSCIyG79NJUVdQq3uI1jLEIdyRK8otZpva1wMtoEvI3gAwSTB4KvZeIhWgIvANc3Pa3cYHdgFqDYeJIAhYe2JFpAaeLwt28oTDsLaTEkg1mXrAE41cWsJVXRhIRIOl/s1600/stackedbuildinggarden.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589656835428864482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKBa0fDzq6fxqAw1uSCIyG79NJUVdQq3uI1jLEIdyRK8otZpva1wMtoEvI3gAwSTB4KvZeIhWgIvANc3Pa3cYHdgFqDYeJIAhYe2JFpAaeLwt28oTDsLaTEkg1mXrAE41cWsJVXRhIRIOl/s320/stackedbuildinggarden.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 214px;" /></a>I watched the sparkly and dizzying 2004 film "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" again the other day. It was a random occurrence, seemingly out of sequence with any other choice I made that day. I remember seeing the film and liking it when it first came out, but couldn't have told you much about it, and certainly didn't remember the last 10 minutes.
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After this viewing, I would fancy to say that the last ten minutes of the film pose a question so fundamental that, in answering it, we may find out who we are in some key way.
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If you have lived in the U.S. for the past decade, and likely even if you haven't, I imagine you've seen this movie. On the off-chance that you haven't and to preserve a tone of anticipation, I won't say much, but need to paint the scene a bit. In simple terms, we find ourselves in the middle of a love story that feels like it's just begun and also that it's already over. We come to find out that both are true, and that it ended in a way that was so painful that both parties have chosen to erase the memory of its ever having occurred in the first place.
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And then they meet...again, and as if for the first time. In the blissful days of their apparently new relationship, they encounter recordings of themselves at the end of their relationship, saying terrible things about one another in pain-drenched regret and longing. In the dreamy early moments of new love, they come to know that they've been together before and that it ended badly.
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So herein lies a fundamental question:
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If you knew your relationship would end, in some great despair, in a couple of years, but you had no available memory of it, would you start again?
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Staring into the eyes of the new beloved, with no sense of past, no sense of pain or sting; no imprint of a prior relationship, but with the extemporaneous and disorienting information that you've done it before, with some success, but that ended and that you were hurt...hurt badly enough to erase the memory, would you do it again?!!!
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For the pain and the pleasure of it, with the chance that, maybe, this time, perhaps with the assistance of this information posted to your awareness from some unknown past, it could be better...Maybe this time it will work; maybe it won't have to end in pain.
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And, even if it does, would you do it again?
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When I was first thinking about this question, I thought that, in answering it, it could be determined whether a person was a romantic or not. (Clearly I fancy myself one, or likely wouldn't be posing the question in the first place.):)
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But then I realized that my initial question was limited. That, in the deepest of ways we are all romantics and that our being so isn't determined by whether we would give the relationship another shot.
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We are all romantics because we devote ourselves to life and to each other when we already know how it's going to end.
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The inevitability of our own death and that of every person we love is the only thing that is promised to us by life. It is an extraordinary miracle that we do it all.
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Certainly one could argue that we don't have a choice in the matter, and this is mostly true. The miracle, then, is not just that we make it, but that we do our best, day by day. We fail, certainly, and we're frightened, but we
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step again nonetheless. Perhaps this is simply biology employing each us to do its bidding in the continuation of life. And, perhaps, or perhaps also, each of us is a tireless romantic, willing to do it again, in innocence and with our whole hearts, even though we already know how it's going to end.gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-72991264448822116092011-03-01T17:26:00.000-08:002011-03-02T10:02:07.435-08:00Pelvis Workshop in LA--March 12<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpl5DkpBleludOD1nT4vk8wqeiKoZmHgWoXphrsXYh84RER88SiFQWO3TUrrslgLrFw_bKKbFP17UzH7mMr1p9p6gU38e64Rfc2IRR8VwgH1KWNNPAjC6Ui0rtmkhyphenhyphenMtyoP9oYZzFw1SW9/s1600/events.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 309px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpl5DkpBleludOD1nT4vk8wqeiKoZmHgWoXphrsXYh84RER88SiFQWO3TUrrslgLrFw_bKKbFP17UzH7mMr1p9p6gU38e64Rfc2IRR8VwgH1KWNNPAjC6Ui0rtmkhyphenhyphenMtyoP9oYZzFw1SW9/s400/events.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579296332482676210" border="0" /></a><br /><br /> <span style="font-size:130%;">For details and to register, click <a href="http://www.allstill.com/">here</a></span><br /><img src="file:///Users/ginazimmerman/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" /><img src="file:///Users/ginazimmerman/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot-1.png" alt="" />gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-61295746447164783972011-01-02T13:44:00.000-08:002011-01-02T14:37:33.068-08:00anusara certification letterI have, finally, decided to pursue Certification in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Anusara</span> system. For those of you who don't know what this means, you can check <a href="http://www.anusara.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=54&Itemid=95">here</a> if you're curious.<br /><br />I resisted and then ignored the invitation to take my teaching to this next place for some years. For many reasons (some known and some mysterious), now feels like the time to start. I applied (first stage of the process) at the beginning of December. Below is a copy of my letter of intent. I felt inspired to share it, as it reflects a sort-of distilled biography of my teaching journey.<br /><br />With love:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I took my first <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Anusara</span> class with Elena <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Brower</span> in May 2002. I had been practicing at a studio in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Williamsburg</span>, Brooklyn for about a year. I had been touched and birthed by the yoga practice so completely that it had posited a seam into my (still young-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ish</span>) life: life before yoga and life after were entirely different.<br /><br />I was ready to do teacher training and it <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">wasn</span>’t offered at the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Jivamukti</span>-inflected studio where I was practicing. I asked my teacher what he recommended and he mentioned <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Anusara</span>. Although I had plunged, bodily and with heart into yoga, I was very young and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">naïve</span> in my understanding of its history and philosophy. If I were to characterize my sense of things back then, it would sound something like this: “It’s all just yoga, right?”.<br /><br />So, when my teacher mentioned <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Anusara</span> by name, I thought, ‘John Friend, he sounds nice’. :) It was with that innocence and simplicity that I walked into Elena’s class that day. There was something quite simple and elegantly clear in my continuing to practice <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Anusara</span>, although the inchoate affinity started to be informed by real knowledge.<br /><br />I began my first teacher training in the fall of 2002. I am grateful to have participated in Lois <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Nesbitt</span>’s first training. I remember being often overwhelmed with the thought of ever being to pull-off what my teachers were doing. Slowly, with the wisdom and generosity of Lois’ guidance, as well as the brilliance of Ellen <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Saltonstall</span>’s anatomy instruction, I was becoming a teacher. I saw how each of us in the training was becoming a teacher, and each in her very own way.<br /><br />In 2005, I completed a Level 2 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">TT</span> and subsequently several therapeutic trainings with Noah and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Naime</span>, as well as hundreds of hours with certified teachers and years of study with Sally <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Kempton</span>, Douglas Brooks and now Paul Mueller-Ortega. I have been teaching full-time in Los Angeles since the summer of 2003. I have had my heart in this for a long time.<br /><br />So, why now? Why am I inclined to begin the certification process now, after all this time? Partially, of course, it is purely instinctual, and emerging from a quite wordless space. If I am to give it voice, it has much to do with intimacy. I have been friendly with the principles and ethos of this system for a long time. I have known <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Anusara</span> for a long time, and have watched the principles change in my awareness and understanding over time.<br /><br />It has steeped and stewed in me, and I now trust that I have the wisdom as a teacher to honor the system fully as I dive further into its depth. I have been teaching yoga with the inspiration of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Anusara</span> system and lineage for nearly eight years. I have strengthened my container as a teacher sufficiently such that I know I can carry the challenge of being Certified with full integrity.<br /><br />I am currently ten months in to Paul’s year-long ‘Entering the Heart of Shiva’ course. I know that my experience in the course has contributed greatly to my beginning the Certification process. I have come to understand depth of study in a wholly new way—it has grown me up, availing me to a level of maturity of practice that was previously untenable and unknown.<br /><br />Paul speaks of ‘the digging of the well’. “It <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">doesn</span>’t matter where you dig the well,” he said, “just be sure to dig deep enough.” It is as if the nectar of practice, of the heart, is just below our feet. We start on a path, and begin to dig, and then resign, thinking that the nectar must be somewhere else. And then we begin to dig a new well, get discouraged or fatigued, or confront some uncomfortable, rocky place in the ground of our consciousness, and we stop again, thinking that the nectar must surely be somewhere else.<br /><br />At some point in our <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">sadhana</span>, by simple grace and sweet effort, we learn to dig the well deep enough to touch the molten core of bliss that flows just there. ‘There’, then, can be wherever the practitioner has burrowed deep enough into the heart. I have placed myself here, in the lineage of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Anusara</span> yoga. I have stood nearby for many years. I am now ready to fully dig the well.<br /><br />Thank you for reading this, for your greatness, and your support. <br />Gina Zimmerman </span>gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859400114148299054.post-23074078068078921512010-12-30T23:19:00.000-08:002010-12-30T23:41:02.821-08:00from my teachersas these things go, i just read an email from two of my teachers, and they offered this quote (entirely, perfectly, exactly what i would have loved to have said in the post below (dec 20,2010). if only i were as elegant as artist andrew wyeth). passing it along, with love.<br /><br /><span><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);font-family:Trebuchet MS,Verdana,Helvetica,sans-serif;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255);font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" ><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"><em><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">"I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape--the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show."</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">-Andrew Wyeth</span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></em></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"></span></span><span><br /></span></span></span>gina zimmermanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484483987832652784noreply@blogger.com