Each time I read or think of these lyrics (since, by now, they are part of my memory bank), it reminds me of the Sanskrit word 'purna' (full, complete, perfect), and its application to our effort, rather than the end result.
The line - 'there's a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in' - is a wonderful trigger for me to remember that in each pose, each practice, we have so much to learn. For most of us have a lot of 'cracks' (we're all still learning, right?). Along with those cracks come opportunities!
Opportunities to continue our practice
Opportunities to laugh
Opportunities to experience success and setbacks
Opportunities to cry
Opportunities to keep working and striving towards that diksha (threshhold)
And, don't forget, all those opportunities that will spring up OFF the mat
The lyrics remind me that I can learn from my setbacks, I can learn from my deficits and my strengths as I practice, I can ALWAYS learn.
Enjoy President's Day,
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2 comments:
Thanks for including poetry in your blog. As teachers, we're often at a loss for words to describe a practice which seems can only be experienced and expressed beyond words. But through the specialized language of poetry, this both potentially grounding and expanding of language, we can integrate communication and language with more precision in our teaching and student practices. It was not by accident that our original yoga texts are essentially works of poetry: The Yoga sutra, The Hatha yoga pradikipa, &tc. Sutra is related to the Greek word for verse-meter--"stich"--which is also related to our sewing--"binding"--terms "stitch" and "suture."
One of my favorite poems which resonates with Cohen's lyrics was written by Emily Dickinson who probably only knew "yoga" through the Transcendentalists (yet one of the greatest yoginis of all time):
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading--treading--till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through--
And when they were all seated,
A Service, like a Drum--
Kept beating--beating--till I thought
My Mind was going numb--
And then I heard them lift a box
And creak across my Soul
With those same Boots of Lead, again,
Then Space--began to toll,
As all the Heavens were a Bell,
And Being, but an Ear,
And I, and Silence, some strange Race
Wrecked, Solitary, here--
And then a Plank in Reason, broke,
And I dropped down, and down--
And hit a World, at every plunge,
And Finished knowing--then--
- - - -
Brent Corcoran
Brent had some trouble getting the 'comment' function to work -- I haven't quite perfected this yet. So, the following comment, which says it's from me, actually comes from Brent Corcoran, Anusara-Inspired™ instructor, in Salt Lake City.
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