May all beings be peaceful.
May all beings be happy.
May all beings be safe.
May all beings awaken to the light of their true nature.
May all beings be free.

This is a translation of a Buddhist prayer known as the Maitri (Metta in Pali) Prayer or the Loving-Kindness Prayer. I have seen several versions and translations of these earnest wishes, yet the focus is always the same: developing aspirations for the health, happiness, and liberation of the self and others. The Maitri is a simple invocation that calls us to profoundly focus compassionate attention and intention to all beings.

The development of compassion is central to every major world religion. His Holiness the Dalai Lama, XIV defines compassion as “a state of mind that is nonviolent, nonharming, and nonagressive. It is a mental attitude based on the wish of others to be free of their suffering and is associated with a sense of commitment, responsibility, and respect towards the other…there is also a sense to the word of its being a state of mind that can include a wish for good things for oneself.”

Besides just being a downright awesome thing for us to do as human beings, practicing compassion has some valuable side effects. When we treat others kindly, we experience a greater sense of ease, equanimity, confidence, and self love. These states enable us to more easily and more frequently abide in a compassionate frame of mind and action. Scientific studies have shown compassion to have a positive impact on physical and emotional health. These studies also reveal a correlation between compassion and a stronger immune system as well as increased life expectancy.

I am by no means a master of compassion but I am continuously working on becoming a more loving and caring individual. Here are some guidelines and ideas that I have found to be very helpful in developing a sense of compassion:

Meditation/Prayer. Prayer and meditation are some of the greatest and oldest tools we have for anything having to do with spirituality. Through prayer and meditation, we connect ourselves to stillness and divinity. This sacred connection gives us access to a force that enables us to more solidly and consistently act from a state of love and respect for ourselves and the world.

Mindfulness. This is a practice in itself. The more mindful we are, the more resourceful we are as spiritual beings. We also feel more connected to others. Mindfulness makes it less likely to slip into unconscious judgements, thoughts, speech, or actions. Mindfulness of our body, speech, and mind, allows us to be more consistently compassionate.

Nonjudgement. Judging our selves and others is one of the more hateful things we can do and obviously counterproductive when we are seeking to be compassionate. Something that can be helpful when we find ourselves in judgment is to create a counter-thought or a reframe. For example, if your friend does something you don’t like and you find yourself thinking “Ahh! She’s such a stupid idiot!” Take a step back and evaluate your judgment, reverse it, or reframe it to something like “I don’t appreciate how my friend is acting, but I love her, and wish her the greatest bliss.”

Silent Blessings. Silently bless everyone you can. This is a profound practice that quickly creates clarity and happiness in your mind and gives you a strong sense of connection to humanity. Whoever you encounter, even if you dislike them, just silently think to yourself, “May you be liberated. May you be free.” I do the same to homeless people, drivers, and anyone I might pass on the sidewalk. It’s good stuff.

Focus on our equality. This is a practice I learned from the Dalai Lama. Judgement and hatred stem primarily from “othering” individuals. We see them as so different from ourselves, so unequal, and so removed from us that it’s easy to not love them. Instead, we can focus on our similarities. Then we can grow in our kindness. We are all human beings. We all suffer. We all want the best for ourselves and our families. We all hurt. We all cry. We all laugh and smile. We all yearn for comfort and freedom. Just because someone is different in some way, does not devalue their needs, innate beauty, and their inherent right to happiness.

Instead of hatred and judgement, I intend to practice love and compassion. It will likely get me a lot more out of life and, if nothing else, I’ll be a much happier person. I invite you to join me in this endeavor!

Recommended Reading

How to Practice,By Tenzin Gyatso, His Holiness the Dalai Lama, XIV

The Art of Happiness, By Tenzin Gyatso, His Holiness the Dalai Lama, XIV

Destructive Emotions , by Tenzin Gyatso, His holiness the Dalai Lama, XIV and Daniel Goleman

I received my Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees in Linguistics from UC Santa Cruz. Linguistics is a funny sort of science, as it is based on empirical data (corpora of real linguistic utterances from real speakers of real languages), yet at the same time the theoretical models that it generates are, on the whole, not meant to reflect the actual physiological and neurological processes that are generating those data. That is to say, except for in specific cases, theoretical linguistics does not generate theories about what the brain itself is doing, it models language generation as an object.

All of this is to say that my formal education trained me in building abstract models (almost like mental machines or programs) of real world phenomena. Making models in my head of how things might be working, refining the model when presented with new data, proceeding as though that model were true until presented with new data that doesn’t fit the model, and constantly looking for data that the model doesn’t predict are deeply ingrained habits now.

What I have noticed recently is that this habit of refining my mental models of how complicated systems work is one of the most powerful spiritual practices I have. We all have core models of how we perceive the Universe to work. Some of these models are functional because they predict useful things for us, such as “I believe that gravity will keep me attached to the Earth.” This belief is accurate enough to serve most people in most circumstances. If you’re an astronaut or rocket scientist, this is not a functional enough model of the Universe for your daily life, because your daily life involves forces that are great enough to overcome gravity’s ability to keep you attached to the Earth.

Some of the models we hold are less functional. I suspect we’ve all met people who carry models that include beliefs like “everyone who loves me will eventually betray me,” and others who use models that include beliefs like “the Universe is conspiring to shower me with blessings.” The thing about models of complex systems (such as, for instance, the Universe!) is that they tend to be self-reinforcing. People who believe on a core level that everyone that they love will betray them will tend to disregard evidence to the contrary as being outlying and insignificant data (if they even notice it at all) and use any evidence that supports their belief to reinforce their model of reality as being correct.

This is what brings me to my real point about my spiritual practice: we are all operating, eventually, only on models of reality. Our minds aren’t capable of conceiving of the totality of the Universe all at once and making all of our decisions from that understanding, so we model reality based on our experiences. Having a model of reality that explicitly includes its own constant revision and refinement by the actively seeking data that lies outside of the model’s ability to handle them creates an ever-expanding model which is capable of dealing with ever-greater and more complex circumstances.

I don’t know about you, but I’d like every experience I have to reinforce the idea that the Universe is a pretty good place to be, so I have intentionally structured my model of reality to be more like “the Universe is conspiring to get me what I want” and less like “the Universe screws me over consistently.” How have I been doing this? I consistently look for patterns of synchronicity, of getting what I need when I need it, and of always having what I need. I spend time picking through difficult and painful experiences to find the exact way in which the painful event was actually, somehow, exactly what I really wanted, and then I made a conscious and concerted decision to stay focused on the good I was getting from the experience. This not only keeps the pain or hurt valid and real (instead of dismissing or ignoring it), but it charges it with the power to transform my life even further into what I want. My model of reality is no more accurate than someone who believes the Universe is out to get them; the Universe is infinite, and all models that remain experientially consistent are, for all intents and purposes, equally accurate. My model just feels nicer to me than I imagine models that hinge upon the idea that the Universe is a horrible place to be would feel.

What beliefs do your models of reality contain? Do you like what they’re getting you, experientially?

Recommended Reading:

Pronoia Is the Antidote for Paranoia, by Rob Brezsny

When the word yoga is mentioned, most of us in the West think of a physical and mental exercise wherein the practitioner places his or her body in a series of poses (asana) while controlling the breath and focusing the mind. This type of yoga is known as hatha yoga (properly pronounced as ha tuh). Studios that teach various forms of hatha yoga are everywhere and we have all either tried it or know someone who has. However, hatha yoga is but a small component of the rich and ancient practices of yoga.

So what exactly is yoga and where did it come from? What is its aim? In this article I’ll attempt to answer these questions by providing a brief history of yogic philosophy and descriptions of some of the various forms of yoga.

Yoga is one of the world’s oldest spiritual traditions. This family of practices was born in India but the precise date of their origination is unclear. According to traditional yoga philosophy, the entire cosmos consists of a state of duality between the eternal and abiding purusha and prakriti. Everything in the universe can be classified as either purusha or prakriti or consists of a combination of both. Purusha is the formless, pure realm of spirit (for lack of a better term) and consciousness. Prakriti is the realm of nature and physical materiality. As humans, we are simultaneously composed of both these essences. Our body is physical, and thus is part of prakriti. Our soul (jiva) is non-physical, pure consciousness and is purusha. Traditional schools of yoga hold that because our purusha, our true self, is part of prakriti, it becomes so caught up in the physical nature of reality that it forgets its true being, that of pure, formless essence and consciousness.

This is where yogic practice comes into play. The word yoga comes from the Sanskrit root yuj, meaning to yoke or restrain. Early yogic applications focused on restraining and controlling the senses in order to realize separateness from one’s purusha and prakriti so that the true self, pure consciousness, could be known. Ultimately one would experience nirvikalpa samadhi where the purusha no longer has any ties whatsoever to the prakriti. In this state, the purusha is free, completely liberated.

As I stated before, it is unclear when yoga first began. There are seals from the Indus Valley civilization (c. 3600 - 1900 B.C.E) that clearly depict beings in various asanas. It is highly probable that early forms of yoga, like tantra, were developed by the Dravidians (the indigenous people of India) long before the Aryans came into India and brought with them the Vedas (holy books of ancient Hindus dating to at least 1500 B.C.E.) and what we call Hinduism. However, these forms of yoga probably would not be very recognizable to us today. There is no mention of yoga in Hindu scripture until it is passively alluded to in the Upanishads (c. 900 - 300 B.C.E.) and clearly described in the Bhagavad Gita (c. 200 B.C.E.). This suggests that by 200 B.C.E. Hinduism, like it did with so many ancient Dravidian beliefs, practices, and philosophies, had married and adopted yoga.

According to Encyclopedia of Hinduism* the earliest structured form of yoga was likely practiced by the Jains (c. 900 B.C.E) and involved severe worldly denial and physical restraint. “The early Jain monks and Thirthankaras (perfected beings) would train themselves to ignore the body completely and train the mind to ignore even the strongest positive and negative stimuli.” Renunciation and worldly denial is still quite prevalent in many forms of yoga today. “Yoga of this sort is ultimately about controlling all bodily functions, so that even the autonomic nervous system can be under the adept’s control. When Swami Rama first traveled to the United States in the 1970’s, he demonstrated such control by stopping his heart completely for more than a minute while being attached to a heart monitor.”

This is a very extreme path of yogic practice and not all schools are quite so severe. When Buddhism was founded (c. 600 B.C.E.) it promulgated another view that did not advocate bodily denial. Its focus was that of mental control where the practitioner focused on the breath and physical sensation in the body.

After Buddhism, other forms of yoga began to develop in Hinduism. In the Bhagavad Gita there is a lot of emphasis on devotional yoga or bhakti yoga. Here primary mental focus on the deity is the goal. There is also karma yoga where one’s attention is ideally placed solely on good worldly conduct. Astanga yoga, the eight-limbed yoga of Patanjali, from whom we get the Yoga Sutras, “…involved a sitting yoga, sometimes called raja yoga, which focused on breathing. As one observed the breath, one developed ways of concentrating the mind and eventually controlling the mind”.

Next we come to the ever popular hatha yoga that “…is an amalgam of practices that may have emerged separately and were later combined”. The primary progenitors of hatha yoga were the Nath Yogis, a group who sought physical immortality through alchemy, the ingestion of mercury, and asana. Hatha yoga today does not involve alchemy or mercurial ingestion, but combines the teachings found in Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras, such as breath control with asana. Hatha yoga is, essentially, an active meditation and within its scope there are various schools with differing postures, techniques, and philosophies. Examples of these are Iyengar, Vinyassa, and Yin. Kundalini yoga is another popular school of hatha yoga that focuses on awakening the serpent Goddess-energy at the base of the spine (kundalini) and moving this force through the energy centers along the spine, or chakras (pronounced as a “ch” as in Chalk as opposed to “sh” as in ship).

Hatha yoga is quite profound and beneficial. I have been practicing for at least 12 years. I sometimes jokingly refer to myself as a fundamentalist yogi because I love it so much and feel that everyone could benefit from it.

Breath control is the foundation of hatha yoga. This, coupled with asana practice, produces such an amazing feeling of peace and compassion. It also develops concentration, ease in the body, relieves tension, and makes overall spiritual practice easier.

The beauty of hatha yoga is its adaptability. In yoga, there is no place to go, except for where we already are. The point is to strive to improve ourselves bit by bit, moment to moment. The postures have ideal forms, but these forms are only pointers. In practice, we simply try to get as close to these forms as we can. It is a continuous push to better ourselves, our bodies, and our minds. It doesn’t matter how physically flexible we are, insofar as we engage the body while focusing the mind and the breath.

Essentially all yogas are ancient Indian sciences that we can use to invoke our own inner power, to better ourselves as human beings, and to realize the divinity of ourselves and the world. These are practices that we can harness to live deeper, more meaningful, and more compassionate lives infused with zest and vitality.

*All quotes are taken from pages 511 and 512 of this encyclopedia.

Reccommended Reading

The Alchemical Body, by David Gordon White
Yoga: Immortality and Freedom, by Mircea Eliade
Encyclopedia of Hinduism, by Constance A. Jones and James D. Ryan
Yoga Spandakarika, by Daniel Odier
The Shape of Ancient Thought, by McEvilley
Light on the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, by B.K.S. Iyengar
Light on Yoga, by B.K.S. Iyengar

In my previous post, I talked about how your brain maps out the space immediately around you. Neurologists who study this phenomenon refer to this space as peripersonal space. Think about this: your brain literally knows not only where your body is in space, but how the area immediately around your body is relating to the rest of your environment, and it knows this through the same mechanisms that it knows where your limbs are and what they’re doing.

Conjure up the feeling of having someone stand too close to you, or even stand at arms length with one hand a few inches from your body. The sensation is clearly not the same as that of being touched, but it shares many common elements, most particularly the feeling of having someone in personal territory. Imagine, now, what this space looks like. Where are its edges and boundaries? How far out does it extend from your body? How does it move when you move? Does it change size depending on how much attention you’re paying to it? There are real, testable, neurological answers to these questions.

And this brings us into the teaser I gave in the last post about so-called psychic perceptions. It is reasonable to assume that some people have tuned their awareness onto their own peripersonal space to the degree that they have a fairly constant perception of it. In fact, according to the Blakeslees, there are even some tribal cultures that say that people are surrounded by a bubble that connects them to their environment and to each other. Couple this perception with various sorts of synaesthesia effects and it’s not difficult to imagine otherwise normal and ordinary people seeing colored fields around people, or auras.

I don’t wish to be a reductionist and claim that this is the true nature of these perceptions without exception. What I do wish to do is offer an opportunity for perceptual systems (such as psychic abilities) to be realistically examined from a dispassionate perspective, without getting bogged down in the vocabulary and jargon of any one particular model of reality.

And speaking of models, in my next article I will be discussing a functional mindset I’ve been playing with lately that teases apart the notion of “theory” from the notion of “model.” I’ve found this distinction to be a useful tool, and hope you will as well!

One of my favorite recent reads was The Body Has a Mind of Its Own, by Sandra and Matthew Blakeslee. The book does a beautiful and elegant job of explaining some very difficult neurological concepts in a clear and straightforward way. The concept I’m focusing on for this article has to do with tool use. According to the Blakeslees’ research, we have areas in our brains dedicated to mapping our bodies in both motor function and sensory data. These “body maps” respond dynamically to our environments and the tools we use.

When you pick up a tool, the body maps associated with your arms and hands expand to include the shape of and a set of potential uses for the tool (i.e., a stick comes loaded with concepts like “poke things with,” “reach things with,” etc.). When you pick up a simple tool, the map of your hands extends into that tool, and the tool becomes, for all intents and purposes, a part of you. The map includes the tool as long as you’re holding it, and different tools have different sets of potential uses loaded into them. Further, the more you use a tool, the more likely you are to develop permanent tool maps. This can be thought of as (at least part of) the brain’s role in muscle memory.

Bear in mind that these maps are physiological regions of the brain, dedicated to “virtualizing” our bodies and environments. These internal representations of our bodies don’t end at our skin, however. Simply having someone stand too close and noticing the deeply invasive feeling of being almost touched is enough to demonstrate that.

In my next article, I’m going to discuss some of the ramifications of this observation about personal space as I perceive it to relate to what are often called “psychic” perceptions.

Recommended reading:

• The Body Has a Mind of Its Own, by Sandra and Matthew Blakeslee

One of the most pervasive menaces in the home is clutter. It makes the house feel cramped, uninviting, stagnant, and dirty. It stresses us out. It causes us to feel trapped by possessions. It’s ugly and unappealing.

In our capitalist buy, buy, buy culture, the tentacles of clutter slowly seep into our environments. One day our house is bright, sparkly, and new. Before we know it, we take a look around the living room and think “Wow! I don’t have a single clear surface in this place.” Then we go to put some things away in the bedroom or kitchen only to find that the cupboards and closets are already overflowing with belongings, some of which we’ve neither seen nor used in years. When it reaches this point, the presence and the prospect of getting rid of the clutter can be quite overwhelming. However, all is not lost.

Here are some useful tips for getting rid of and preventing the accumulation of clutter:

1. Have a regular “spring clean” or de-cluttering party. Every six months to a year, go through all of your cupboards, closets, surfaces, bookshelves, and anywhere else you might collect clutter. Donate old books to the local library. Give old clothes, nick knacks, and anything else you’re not using to charity, a friend, or a family member who could get use out of it. If the item is broken throw it out. My general rule is that if I’ve not used something for a year or more, I get rid of it. If I’ve gone that long without needing it, I clearly can live without it and I don’t want it taking up space in my mind or environment.

2. Your possessions are not your emotions. Many people hold on to things for emotional significance. This is fine if it’s an item you genuinely love, use, and brings you happiness to have around. However, if you’re just keeping it because you feel like you “should” or “have to” due to the emotions surrounding it, it’s just an energy block that’s not benefitting you. You don’t need it. Memories are not held in physical objects. If you need something to remember an event, then that event probably isn’t that important. Let it go. If you have issues about this address it with your therapist or life coach.

3. Collections. Collecting certain items is fine as long as they’re not running you out of your home. If you’ve come to the point that your precious dolls are just sitting around collecting dust and you no longer have room in your house to place a cup of tea, then it’s time to stop and assess the situation. Thin down the collection to a healthy level in which you can tastefully display the collected items. You could even find some fun in having a cyclic display of your collection where whenever you get a new item, you donate an old one. This could add life to the collection while making it more interesting. Don’t let your collectibles consume and control you. Your mental clarity is worth more than that and your value as a human being is not contingent on having physical objects around you.

4. Stay away from the “Unitasker”. The unitasker is a “gadget,” usually, but not exclusively, found in the kitchen. The unitasker serves only one limited function. Examples of these are hot dog warmers, waffle makers, and pasta machines. Typically, we use these items once or twice a year and they otherwise sit around and take up space. We don’t need them.
There are times when unitaskers can be useful and worthwhile. For example, I have an iced tea maker. All it does is make iced tea, but it does it much more quickly and conveniently than I could otherwise. However, I love iced tea and drink it all the time, just about every day. So, if you really do use your unitasker regularly and find it makes your life easier, then hold on to it. If you can count the number of times you use the object per year on one hand, then you can probably live without it and would be better off doing so.

Be brave and pick a day and go through your house and just get rid of “stuff” you no longer use or like. I promise that you’ll find it extremely liberating and you’ll be much happier and vibrant for doing so!

Reccommended Reading
Living with Less: The Upside to Downsizing Your Life, by Mark Tabb