Sometimes we wake up with a song in our head. This morning, in Amsterdam, it was “This land is your land, this land is my land...”
Quite an ode to the USA while being in Holland, learning a new form of yoga, designed by a Brazilian man.
The second verse of the song, by Woody Guthrie, goes:
“As I was walking,
I saw a sign there,
And on the sign it said,
But on the other side,
It didn’t say nothing...
That side was made for you and me.”
Many of the buildings here in the city of canals - and global center of commerce during the 17th century - lean slightly, in all different directions. Some sinking lower to one side or the other, leaning against their adjacent neighbor, others leaning forward or backward. Somehow, however, they stand stable. “Because they’re all together,” said Bonnie (the friend I am here with). That’s a metaphor if I ever heard one.
Bonnie is the reason behind us being here, and the one who introduced me to Kaiut Yoga, a specialized yoga we have been training in for the last week. My first time doing so - not hers. The opportunity to train directly under Francisco Kaiut, the technique’s founder, has been enlightening... It had not occurred to me until now - not really - just how crooked and tight so much of me was... And despite being physically and emotionally exhausted, we are not drained - so far enjoying Amsterdam between and after classes. Yes, we both need rest, but it’s an invigorated sort of tired.
Today we both received certificates for the completion of a particular module. The next one will be taught near Sacramento in July. I am enrolling.
Kaiut Yoga could be a metaphor for life. It is both complex and simple. It is an exploration of the self to find and clear blockages.
In the body these are restrictions, or areas of heightened sensation (often called pain). By focusing on the body during certain poses and allowing tension release and restrictions to be ‘cleaned’ out, the mind learns to support the process and clears out storage of emotional or psychological tension as well.
One often thinks of yoga practice as a way to increase flexibility, but presently yoga is often practiced in a way that causes rigidness, and even in ways that espouse restriction and exclusion rather than broadcasting welcomeness and unlimited potential. I don’t want to rant about this now, but suffice to say many techniques bring about injury - slowly or quickly - and ego-based practice does not offer much freedom to get to know thyself.
Yoga should not allow you to hide from yourself; instead allowing you to know you...more and more and more. I think Francisco Kaiut has developed an approach that is true to the process of self-knowing. As he said to us the other day: “You cannot be smarter than you.”
There are more than a few Americans that were part of this Amsterdam cohort. They join others from Holland and Europe, of course, as well as Brazil, where the technique was first developed.
It feels interesting to be an American nowadays, more so than I remember it being in years past, and especially while off of American soil.
Since we’ve been here, the American president has visited the U.K. and France, and we - while avoiding broadcast news for the most part - heard whispers of a State Dinner with royals, awkward moments with British leaders, and speeches from heads of government, including ours, commemorating the Normandy landings of June 6, 1944, known as D-Day [the allied landing at Normandy that led to the liberation of Nazi-controlled France and eventually the Allied Powers’ victory ending World War II. Side note if-you didn’t-know-&-r-curious: “D-Day” refers to a military designation for a combat operation. ‘D’ for day and ‘H’ for hour are commonly used, and numbers typically follow the letters to indicate time before or after a specific operation: ‘D+2’ would mean two days after any given ‘D-Day’ and ‘H-5’ means five hours before.]
My father was a ‘third’, the namesake of my great-grandpa, because the family was proud of his service during WWII. I am still trying to think of a place for his official military portrait which my brother and I now have.
War is of course complicated in its terminations and carryings-out. Decision-making before, during and in its aftermath is full of option-weighing of things certain and things - most things - uncertain. War feels wearisome...bad...for the good-hearted; intoxicating and mechanical for those who do not feel strongly. One prefers to keep the peace; the other is jaded by its inevitable end.
Allies...alliances seem less complicated than war. Cohesion around peace and stability seems obvious in its good. If only for all, but certainly those adept in trusting their senses and judgement - adept in...knowing feeling.
And alliances with those whom one shares values and culture with should be easy to maintain, as there is rational trust - especially from the American perspective - that no party will declare war on or try to invade the other. I guess I wish for the norms of diplomacy, the frivolous elegance, and the seemingly low instances of surprise amidst Western international relations after the Second World War.
Last night I cried in bed. This yoga - with its focus on clearing restrictions in the body - can release things that have been deeply held in tissues for ages. More recently, I am still sad about my father’s death late last year. It has been a lesson for the animal self - that one must learn to live with, and appropriately nurse, wounds. But I also cried from having a sudden and seemingly random realization: that I have made others sad. Like a wave, I was overcome with flashed memories of instances and ways - grand and minuscule - that I’ve hurt people. Within one’s own body, hurting is more painful than being hurt.
I wonder: if humanity’s attunement to feeling - not just emotional reactions, but physical, body-feeling and its ability to inform judgement, its connection with a morality - becomes more and more heightened, will war even be possible?
At the moment, anything seems possible. And that’s not necessarily a welcome feeling.
Just like, as Thomas Merton said, people immersed in sensual appetites and desires are not very well prepared to handle abstract ideas, nor are those who entirely ignore or cut themselves off from the body’s wisdom and its natural signals very well prepared to adapt.
If one cannot adapt to environments and situations but instead requires environments and situations to adapt to them...well, one will always be disappointed. And those who cannot adapt to different environments find it harder to survive - not just major events, but even minor experiences, and therefore become more likely to ignore or hide from what is happening, both within themselves and outside themselves. And those who ignore what is happening within and outside themselves are not very well prepared to engage - or advocate for that matter - change.
We need to ask ourselves: how does it feel to be divided? To be angry? To be scared? How does it feel to refuse - to literally be terrified and abhor the idea of - standing together? How does it feel to be embarrassed? To feel hatred and to not want to feel hatred at the same time? How does it feel to look at your neighbor? To talk to an acquaintance? A friend? To listen to your own thoughts? How does it feel in your body?
This ongoing introduction to new yogic horizons has been intense, and being present in the world and in my self has meant that sometimes it is difficult to maintain good-feeling and upliftedness.
In the last few months, I had decided I did not want the negativity of politics (which was my college major) or even ‘news’ in my reality. I didn’t want the energy of it, to interact with it, or to feel its effect on me.
But there is strength in feeling. And one can feel truly, deeply, strongly - yet not be overwhelmed. There is a joy to be found in uncertainty, the exploration of self and society - a surrendering to discovery that comes with simultaneous relaxation and allowance of sensation. The process that leads us to adapt. And thus learn and grow and know what we want and where we stand.
Exactly six months ago, I graduated (not sure of any other suitable word) from the Swami Krishnananda Yogashram outside Mysore, India. Today, I received my first certificate from Kaiut Yoga.
The ashram experience was profound and transformative, of course, and very focused on discipline. But I went to India to escape myself after my father’s death. I learned there is no escape from the self - only getting to know it better and better and better, and with genuineness and no denial. That is the best way to face and heal injuries, to clear blockages and restrictions; to learn how to feel, and therefore be able to face the world from where I stand - with courage and clear understanding.
“You cannot be smarter than you.”
Thanks for reading. Namaste.