Author: tomgrasso (Page 14 of 38)

The Flower Still

August 15, 2011 / tomgrasso

I don’t seek to be your lover,
I seek to be your way,
To realize the Love within you,
To see the sunrise, to see the sunset,
To be the clouds on a raining Sunday afternoon.

I have hurt you a thousand times,
So that you could release your own suffering,
Drop it in the pool of Life,
And let it sink into the abyss,
Never to be seen again, yet never gone for good.

You are a Flower,
Powerful in beauty yet delicate to touch,
You bask equally in the Sun and the Rain,
When you are fully bloomed,
You brighten the world with you.

A Flower does not bloom,
Until first it has been tortured with Life,
It must face death to know Life,
It must face itself to know its Self,
And then open Itself to the world.

It’s thorns protect it from many predators,
While It’s beauty inspires them to peace,
It does not protect Itself to continue to live,
It protects Itself so that it may create unending harmony,
And bless us with Its sweet fragrance.

A Flower does not realize Its power,
A Flower cannot see Its beauty,
A Flower cannot understand Its own importance,
A Flower simply breaks through the ground,
A sits still awaiting Its purpose realized.

When you are open my dear Flower,
My heart is filled with unending Joy,
When you are closed,
I focus on the thorns that protect you,
And the drops of blood that rain from my needy hand.

You are You,
Radiance that steals the breath from my soul,
Fragrance that gives pause to my senses,
And beauty that gives purpose to my eyes,
While giving form to the path I am on.

You are here in the Now,
Do I pot you and carry you where I may go?
Or do I sit in silence and just be with you?
I pray your roots are where my feet may touch the Earth,
Allowing our eternal dance of Love.

Flower be still!
Even as you move where the winds of mind may take you,
Do not let those breezes effect the Knowing,
Just allow them to carry the Fragrance of the Love you know,
So that others may know it too.

Be truthful in your repose,
And be humble in your return,
Do not cater to the voices in your head,
But feel the voices in your heart,
And let them out in silent harmony.

Be like the Flower still,
Do not speak your truth, Be your truth,
Do not speak your love, Be your Love,
Do not love yourself, But Love your Self,
A Flower does not speak about its beauty to the world.

Fold upon your Self,
So that you may bloom another day!
Share your Self with the Universe,
For the Love that you release is eternal,
As every part of the Universe shares your sweet nectar.

Now we move, and sing the song we feel,
In Love we share this moment realized,
And in passing we have created an eternity,
You are now me, and I am now you,
In blessing the Flower still.

The Sin of Pure Pleasure (The Parable of the Cold Shower)

August 12, 2011 / tomgrasso

Today I have sinned, again. I struggle mightily with the actions I find myself now ashamed of. I have taken the word of God

God's Reply? "Thanks for the experience!"

and ignored it doing what I wanted in the process. I am one horrible human being.

My Bible, the New Translation of Piety and Guilt (or NTPG for short) clearly states “Thou shall not expose thy body to anything but cold water.” It seemed that right after they ate the apple, Adam and Eve had decided to get the juicy stickiness of said fruit off their bodies by taking a warm shower. God saw this, too, as an affront to His power and control. Therefore, anyone who dared get their bodies dirty had better not indulge themselves in the warmth, even if the water was warmed by natural means.

To the Orthodox, that meant putting ice in your swimming pools

When insanity overcomes natural intelligence

before taking a dip. Those in warmer climes, like the desert, had decided to simply wash themselves with ice cubes and shy away from natural water all together. Holy water in churches across the nation was frozen according to God’s rule. The clergy had decided that God meant that no water should be above 65 degrees Fahrenheit, and that swimming in the ocean once the water temperature exceeded that baseline was a sin. “Satan only works in the heat” became the common mantra for devotees. After all, hell couldn’t exist if the temperature was below 65 degrees.

It all began about two weeks ago. I just couldn’t help myself. I woke up a bit on the cold side. My body ached from exercise, and my mind just cried out for a nice, warm shower. As I looked at the left faucet in my shower, I debated for what seemed like hours. Do I dare use that valve? After all, I knew God was watching, even in the bathroom.

I watched my left hand (the one that was supposed to lead to my blindness in recognition of other sinful activities), slowly reach for that faucet, pausing every so often as if to check its willingness to go any further. I trembled in both fear and anticipation of what was to come. I knew the warmth would feel great, but also believed that God would be horribly disappointed. At least the Bible told me so.

“If you like the warmth so much, ENJOY IT!!” I heard God say as He cast me into hell in judgment for this moment. Would one shower be worth the eternal damnation I was told awaited me for my lack of discipline? I shuddered at the thought.

With a creak and a shimmy the faucet turned. Instantly the

Let There Be Warmth...Or Not

shower head sprang to life. It didn’t seem to mind the warm water even if my guilt was keeping me from actually stepping into it. I watched the steam rise slowly into the air, turning the rather chilly bathroom into a delightful, tropical space. I inhaled deeply as the warm, moist air cascaded into my lungs. I exhaled with an “ah” in sheer delight at the experience. Surely my parents would be shrieking in horror if they could only see me now, and my God-fearing wife would cry tears of pure sorrow at the thought.

With guilt cascading all around me I placed one leg in the shower. The warm water felt completely wonderful as it flowed over my skin. Wasn’t this a true indication that what I was doing was “wrong”?

“It feels so good it has to be wrong,” I said matter-of-factly in recognition of that thought. After all, I was taught that everything that felt good was sinful, and that God wasn’t the Creator of pleasure. That was “Satan at work”.

I slowly and completely entered the entire shower. The warm water covered me completely. My body shivered in delight as it relaxed into the flow of the water. My breathing slowed as my arms went limp next to me. I just decided to enjoy the moment.

Interestingly enough, the soap seemed to work better in the warm water. Lather flew all over the place as I sung loudly to songs I thought had long been forgotten. Still, when it was over, I felt dirty, as if I needed a cold shower to clean me of the warm one. I begged God silently for the forgiveness I felt wasn’t coming. I surely would suffer for this moment of joy and comfort.

I resolved myself never to take a warm shower again. I would be better. I would prove to God that I loved Him and obeyed because, after all, love is obeyance. I would show God that I feared him even if it meant bathing on an iceberg. I had to make it right; I had to prove my love and my righteousness.

I kept my secret for some time. I dared not tell my family, who would probably disown me because of this mighty sin. I feared confessing my sins to a priest for fear that he would not be able

"I have sinned against you my Lord!"

to contain himself. I even thought about “reeducation camps” that were set up all around the world to teach me the virtues of cold water and the sin of warm water. Yet I wasn’t sure I could succeed, let alone live with the stigma that I had failed God’s word. I knew people would hate me for having warm water touch my bare skin, and I knew they would hate me more for enjoying it.

Today, however, I just couldn’t help myself. My mind was spinning, begging me to enter that warm shower again. I had successfully fought the urge yesterday, but today the voice wasn’t just asking me to take that warm shower, it was demanding that I take one. So, I stood naked in the presence of Satan’s bathtub spewing Satan’s warm water out of Satan’s shower head simply unable to fight the demons any longer.

I was doomed. I am doomed. I simply am not sure what do make of this. “How could you!!!!” my mother would shriek. My father would probably throw his ice-cold beer at my head before throwing me out of the house. “Coming out of the shower”, as they called it, was a tough thing for any God-fearing man to do. What would I tell my wife, my kids? How would I ever face my friends and neighbors? How would my family ever face the world?

I am often left to wonder what state the world would be in today if only those ideas contrary to human joy and love weren’t made wrong by someone else some time ago. Is it not true that the hatred, suffering, and pain that has been associated with many of the

What Book Taught Us Such Joy???

ideas of “sin” aren’t of the human spirit, but of the human mind? What if we paid no attention to what some would call a “sin”? Would we still know right from wrong had the Bible not told us what was right and what was wrong? Would we be able to make sound judgments without the Torah guiding our decisions? Would we be able to experience joy and pleasure without the Kama Sutra or Patañjali?

What if the Bible had told us that warm water on our bodies was sinful? What if Moses et al decided to include that bias into their work? Would we all be forced to take cold showers today despite our bodies loving the warm water? I mean doesn’t it suggest that we have the “word of God” (or whatever you want to call it) written within each of us and that the “word” is personalized according to the experience God wants to have through us? Does this understanding make the written word of God obsolete once we have gained the beauty of experience?

I know. Too many questions with too few answers. Yet, if you just sit still with these questions flowing through you, don’t you get an answer? I mean I stub my toe and it hurts yet have an orgasm and it feels great. Isn’t that God telling me something that, usually, I am just too busy to listen to? Are my ideas, and the ideas of my forefathers and mothers getting in the way of who I am?

My friends, my experience doesn’t lead me to the knowledge that I have the answers. Not for you anyway. I have, had and will have the answers for me, and as long as I don’t affect you in my practice you really have no say in what my answers are and I have no say in the answers you have found. I can write and shine a light in any direction I choose, as can you, but I don’t have the right to make you follow it. This is true of my children as well. I can shine a light for them, but ultimately they will be responsible to make choices as they mature.

Unfortunately for most of us, we have been raised since birth to deal with only one answer to any question. We unconsciously reside in a box created by others for us. Most of the

Who is the Sinner here?

time, they have unconsciously created the box they have given us because they, too, unconsciously reside in that box. It’s not their fault and they are not to blame. Hell, even Moses isn’t to blame. People chose to follow his story, and he stuck to it. It was right for him, and for those who followed him, and soon it became a rite of conditioning for a multitude of future generations who simply didn’t realize they had a choice in the matter.

Yet, I doubt Moses ever forced anyone to follow him. Burning bush and 10 Commandments aside, Moses seemed like a good man who wanted only the best for his people. He shined a light, a light he had within him, and people followed. It is our responsibility as individual Beings to do the same, with the result to be as it must be.

“Thy will be done” is not a statement to a man about the future. It is a statement by a man about the present. We simply shine a light and thy will be done. For me, well I am going to take a warm shower and trust in the best.

The Solution/The Problem

August 11, 2011 / tomgrasso

The Solution is nothing more than the experience of the Problem. It’s not better, or worse, but One in the same.

When you discover that YOU are not only the Problem but the Solution you cease to have a need for someone else serve as the mathematician.” ~Tom Grasso

The Gift, The Giver and the Receiver are One

Parenthood

August 11, 2011 / tomgrasso

“The torture of parenthood is in knowing that at some moment our children will start doing what we once believed was right.

The joy of parenthood is in knowing that at some moment our children will start doing what we found was right.”~Tom Grasso

The Joy of Family

The Parable of the Moving Ball

August 11, 2011 / tomgrasso

“There is no way to be truly great in this world. We are all impaled on the crook of conditioning. “ ~James Dean

There’s a certain magic in that quote. It tells an entire story in two sentences. Even those few we cherish as “great” are only so because we allow a certain perspective to dictate to us who and what they are. Change your perspective and they cease to become “great”. George Washington and Gandhi were not “great” people to the British of their time. Mother Theresa was not “great” to the starving hordes in Northern Africa. Jesus was not “great” to the Sanhedrin or the Romans. Republicans are not great to Democrats and vice versa. It simply is a matter of how you choose to see something.

I often use the Hawking example of the “ping pong ball on a train” applied to my spiritual practice to understand perspective (a view by which we cast all judgment) so that I can extrapolate the effects of perspective, conditioning and attachment on our reality. Here’s

My Sacral Chakra Ball...(Source: http://www.assistedseniorliving.net/)

this analogy in all of its glory:

There is a ping pong ball sitting on a table on a train in a way that causes it to sit perfectly still. The train, however, is moving at 65 miles per hour.

To some people conditioned to be ON the train, the ball is not moving, never moves, and remains perfectly still.

To others conditioned to be on the side of the tracks, the ball is moving at 65 mph as it whizzes by.

Each has its own perspective because of its own conditioning. The ball is still a ball, but when we add ideas of conditioning to it we create a “moving ball” or a “ball sitting still”. If each is unwilling to waver from its perspective we have the conditions for war, violence or, at the very least, anger and fear.

Yet, each is right in their observation. Where they make a fundamental mistake is when they attach themselves to their idea of what they see or have learned and not what is REAL. The reality of this example is that there is a ball and an Observer, plain and simple. If they could agree that there is a ball then the BELIEF about the ball becomes MEANINGLESS! After all, all one has to do to change the way you see the ball is to change the view. (Change the world by changing the way you see the world.)

They would not have to add phrases from a book (in this case any religious text) that

Who is doing wrong here in the picture and why?

proves they are right and the other is wrong. They would not have to create “wickedness” in others who see things differently. They could simply “allow” the description by simply not needing one in the first place. (Those who know do not speak and those who speak do not know.)

In this analogy, no one has actually seen the ball. These people have READ about the ball and what it is doing. For the purposes of this post, the book says that the ball is moving.

Now because these people (we will call them Xtians) have never seen the ball but only have a book to rely on describing what the ball is doing (or was doing), they have created “faith” to ensure that the countless generations of conditioning that taught about the moving ball remains intact. They can’t prove the ball is moving, or that the ball even exists, yet this faith allows them to not only believe in the ball and what it is doing, but also condemn those who either don’t believe in the ball’s existence or have different conditioned ideas about what the ball is (or was) doing. After all, their parents taught them it was moving because they themselves were handed down the countless generations of conditioning that have gone into creating this “faith”.

In this example, the Xtians not only have created an idea of right and wrong, but are using someone else’s idea to do so. They are taking someone else’s experience or inspiration and making it necessary for everyone to have it. It isn’t real, it’s an imagined idea of an experience someone else had thousands of years earlier MADE real in order to support their own conditioned thoughts.

They could point to verses in that book that allowed for the conclusion that “I am right, you are wrong, the ball is moving,” and “I will be saved and you won’t be because I believe the ball is moving”. I mean something supreme told them that the ball was moving (or is), right? The book said that anyone who said the ball was still was a false prophet!!! BEWARE but remain hopeful because a savior is coming to prove to everyone that the ball was, in fact, MOVING.

The faith in the book itself would keep you from experiencing the TRUTH about the ball. You would not be able to experience the ball as still because, frankly, you could not get out of your box long enough to have the experience. So, you could not say for sure if the ball was moving or not, you’d just have to have faith that it was. Experience would be secondary to the conditioning and the belief in you it created.

Silly, huh? When you achieve a level of consciousness that allows you to experience the ball as moving and still, either idea becomes equally meaningless and equally valid. Ultimately though, it is not as important as the experience itself. You die when you stop having the experience of existing, and strict adherence to any religion, dogma or belief (religious or otherwise) is a death experienced by those who have forgotten their own breath. Once we start honoring experience as the basis for our purpose, we not only live for the experience but also find a deep desire to let go or it in order to see the sunrise as if for the very first time. Experience is dynamic and ever-changing, religion is not.

The New Experience of Religion (Source: http://www.canyonridge.org)

There is MUCH value in religion. It removes people from horrible darkness and debilitating despair as well as providing the impetus for humans to come to a deeper understanding of who we are. However, religion seems to be the “puberty of spirituality”, that stage of development that allows us to learn about ourselves in tremendously unique ways while still only being one stage of many. Unfortunately, it has been our history that we stop developing at this pubescent stage. We find comfort in religion, particularly if our parents are the ones who indoctrinated us into it or if it has pulled us out of some deep abyss, and remain in this stage rather than mature beyond it.

Religion is nothing more than an experience. You have it, and then you should let it go. Or else you begin to have the experience of stagnation as you live like a veal-calf in a box. You soon forget how to walk, and become so soft as to be desired by wolves. It would be like finding comfort on the seat of a roller coaster and never getting off to experience the rest of the rides.

Now, before you decide that I am judging religion while demonizing judgment let me just suggest to you that I am offering a unique way to describe my experience of religion not only from the inside looking out but from the outside looking in. I am not JUDGING, I am DESCRIBING. I am describing the ball while I was standing by the tracks and now as I stand on the train. I am not saying I am right to you, I am simply describing what I have experienced which, of course, makes me right to me.

In my experience, religion gave me a grounded understanding of my society’s morality, or at least a rosy picture of it. It also seemed to create a lot of society’s inner turmoil. Because of that, it remained for me just a step toward higher levels of consciousness. There was no comfort in the religious stage, only questions that would force me upward and beyond the confines of a book that taught me that ball was moving. I needed to experience it, to know it, to feel it and to understand it and then fortunate was able to let it go. In doing so, I stepped out of its confines into an experience that hasn’t stopped pushing me into deeper and more meaningful levels of understanding. Religion was a gift for me, it got me to a point where I wanted something it could not offer. It has also been a curse because it has cost me friendships and countless hours of guilt and fear as I began growing away from it.

So when someone says to me “you are wrong, the ball is moving” while unfriending me on Facebook because of what I see (or how I describe what I see), I can simply say “yeah, I saw that once too and this is what I saw once I stepped onto the train.” I now focus only on the ball, and keep my “eyes” firmly fixed on it as I let go of all the ideas I have created about what it is, what it does and how it does it. I simply experience the entirety of the ball, and have found something very powerful in this focus.

The ball does not exist. But that’s for another story…

Why Nudity (and sex) Suits me Fine

August 9, 2011 / tomgrasso

“Yes, Father Mack, I am a pervert.”

My mind answers the priest’s question even as my mouth stays silent. There is no sense for a 13 year old to enrage a rather large, Irish priest who certainly doesn’t like being challenged.

Ironically enough, the picture of a naked man and woman I was staring at came from the library at St. Joseph’s Catholic Elementary School in a book that, also ironically, detailed the act of sexual intercourse even as it painted a rather bleak picture of it. According to this fine “how to” manual (the name of which escapes me), a man was fondled “down there” until he became erect. He then entered the woman from the “missionary position” until he ejaculated. He then proceeded to fall asleep inside of her until his penis became flaccid and fell out. It was messy. It was glum. It was horrifying to say the least.

Amazingly, I thought this was how it was done well into my 30’s; another scar of my Catholic upbringing that took me years to overcome. I now apologize to anyone effected by my dedication and devotion to such ideals.

As the book made it around the hallowed halls of St. Joe’s, we boys studied intensely the various drawings of male and female reproductive organs, as well as illustrations of what they looked like all connected. I must say that whomever created those masterpieces of creation we call “genitals” certainly understood the engineering of a round peg fitting into a round hole even if the drawings of that masterpiece looked a little like a “disaster”. My dick certainly didn’t look anything like that drawing, but as far as “how to” manuals go I guess it was great. At least it wasn’t written in Japanese like most of the electronic manuals available during that time period were. I could at least read what was supposed to happen even if the drawings themselves caused me to look away in horror.

Then there were the pictures. Now, I must assume that the book was written in the

Where's Woodstock?

heyday of the 1960’s “summer of love” phenomenon because what I saw was a horror show all unto itself. I remember being a bit grateful that the drawings were there because otherwise you wouldn’t have a clue what the vagina looked like. It took me years to learn that not all vaginas came with 12 feet of braid-able hair. Seriously, it is no small wonder most men couldn’t find the clitoris. Blame the male of the species all you want, but it seems to me that once upon a time clitoral stimulation certainly was impossible without a weed whacker and a good sense of direction.

As scary as all of that was, nothing topped the moment Father McCloughlin (who we called “Father Mack”) caught me staring at the visage of a naked woman. Ok, so I wasn’t really looking at her face.

“Mr. Grasso, what is that you are looking at?”

I thought the answer was fairly obvious, and certainly not worth describing in detail. The stuttering and stammering that was coming from my dry and cracked lips was all the description necessary. However, in my mind, I said something like this:

“I am looking a one hairy bush and nipples that look like moons around her belly button. I think it’s a ‘her’ anyway.”

In reality, the reply sounded something like this:

“Er, duh, um, well, um, er, ah, yeah.”

Very eloquent. Very mindful. Not one of my prouder moments.

“Do you know what this makes you Mr. Grasso?”

In my mind came the response:

“Yes, Father Mack, I am a pervert. God created this boner in my pants because he wanted me to never use it. He created this woman’s body so that I could hide my head in shame when I saw it. I get it.”

What came out was:

“No sir.”

“Well, I will see you at confession son.”

Confessionals are where the best books are written

Damn it. Not confession!! You mean I have to sit and tell you once again that I looked at some naked woman in a book that YOUR school provided and that you, once again, have to make me feel like my curiosity was WRONG?? It was moments like these that pretty much assured me that heaven and hell were right here on earth. Either way, as an altar boy there was no hiding from this man, and certainly no hiding from him when he issued the “see you at confession” sentence. I was doomed.

I have wondered since my early days of studying the Bible what the big deal about nudity was. After all, “perfect” man and woman had no issue with walking around naked playing nudist all day long. It wasn’t until they became imperfect that the issues with their bodies became known, right? So why wouldn’t I want to be more perfect and, more importantly, why wouldn’t every woman I have ever seen strive for such utter perfection??

Alright ladies, take it off. Take it ALL off. Remember, I simply want you to be perfect. Throw away those proverbial fig leafs and find Eden my dear friends. Let it all hang out, and for pete’s sake don’t mind my binoculars. Guys? Well you can remain imperfect and shameful. I have no need to see you better than you are.

Yes, today us guys oogle and ah at every image of a naked woman we see. Yet, I am often left to wonder what would have happened if I never knew clothes existed. Would I have been staring painfully at my then-girlfriend (now my wife) wondering what was under those awesome threads that covered the awesome masterpiece beneath? Would her body have been that big of a deal to me? Would it still be?

Ok, I take it back. Ladies, put your clothes back on. See, there is something to be said about imagination and its power over the human mind. Frankly, I am not oogling women anymore. That practice is best kept to teenagers who have nothing better to do and no one better to do it with. For me, I am happy staring at my woman and just “imagining”. To me, you have found the right person not only when your mind is turned on, but when your body can be each and every time her clothes hit the floor. I am lucky that way.

See, even the story of original sin has its good points. If Eve hadn’t convinced Adam to eat the apple I would not have the imagination I have today to imagine what’s doing under my wife’s summer dress. Perhaps that was her motivation? Maybe fondling him until he became erect, having him lie on top of her until ejaculation, followed by his snoring while his flaccid member fell out of her just wasn’t cutting it. Maybe she needed more, so that apple sounded pretty damn appetizing.

Oh, I am also left with the idea that perhaps the “snake” mentioned in Genesis wasn’t a serpent after all. It could have been a one-eyed worm named Willie who was to be the cause of laughter for many thousands of years to come. Yes, the irony of it all just astounds me.

What Father Mack never mentioned, and what I was never taught by those who were

Kama Sutra - the 11th Commandment?

quick to teach me how “bad” sexual expression was, is that sex is a wonderful spiritual experience. Just as every other spiritual practice, it needs to be practiced mindfully, with your entire being, and then it becomes an awesome experience that can change your life. I understand why Father Mack couldn’t mention it, but I can’t understand why very few people in my life had that experience other than they simply didn’t know how. The Bible may be a sorted collection of pornographic story lines, but where is the section where the spirituality of sex is explored? Did the God of the Bible create such a beautiful experience so that we could hide and be ashamed of it? Or was it that Moses (et al) where just dried up old men who had forgotten to experience anything better than saying “no”?

Freedom has allowed me to conclude that, in my experience, sex and nudity are awesome components of a complete life. They suit me to a tee (pun intended). It is, for me, the absolute gift that serves as a reminder of a higher level of consciousness can exist within the realm of things some humans find “dirty”. It’s like finding ultimate cleanliness in what some would consider a mud puddle. I suggest the mud is nothing more than a figment of the conditioning we are all slaves to, but it too can serve a purpose. After all, what’s wrong with a little “dirt” every once in a while?

Have You Practiced Your Smayate Pose today?

August 5, 2011 / tomgrasso

First, I have to blame Diane Ferraro and Tanya Lee Markul at elephant journal for this post. If you hate it, well, it’s all their fault. If you love it, well that’s their fault too. Both of them created an inspiration in me that I had to get out as quickly as possible. At my age, if I waited any longer I would probably forget it and that would have been a travesty!!!

While engaged in an “internet conversation” of sorts with them regarding my horribly inflexible body and the values of yoga came the inspiration for what seems to be a must do daily asana that simply cannot be found on any chart, website, or book within my reach. I Googled it, went quickly through my various yoga books, and can’t remember ever having it taught in any yoga class, DVD or manual I have ever seen. So, I wish to patent it.

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, lithe gurus and rigid oak trees alike allow me to introduce to you what I feel is the fundamental of all yoga poses. It is one that you can do anywhere, anytime, in any position and at any skill level. It is the first one you should do when you awake in the morning, the last one you should do as you drift to sleep each night, and the only one that you should do hundreds of times a day. It is also one that can have an immediate impact on anyone around you, and it is a pose they can copy with minimal instruction.

I’ll call it the “Smayate Pose”. What’s a Smayate pose? Well, get your pens and paper ready because notes are mandatory and a test WILL BE given at the end. Failure is not an option.

Since a picture is worth a thousand words, allow me to show you in various forms what the proper Smayate pose looks like. Warning: The following yoga pose is being demonstrated by trained professionals. Neither myself, Diane, Tanya, or elephant journal is responsible for any injury, pain, suffering or trauma caused by your attempt to do this at home.

Well, here it is:

Smayate Pose

Ok, sorry about the resolution, but even in this fuzzy example you can see the pose in its full effect. Now, before you get focused on my son’s arm formation around my neck, or theorize about any mudra that may be going on, look more closely. See how the lips curl

Anyone can do the Smayate pose!

upward on the two of us? See our relaxed eyes? See a certain amount of power in our presence?

That, my friends, is the Smayate pose. It’s a freaking smile people (Smayate is Sanskrit for”smile”)!!! The easiest and least recognized pose in the universe, given to us before any other, is also the most effective and beneficial pose we can do. And get this…come closer as I need to whisper this secret delicately and quickly into your ear while asking you to take a vow of silence. Closer, come on, you can do it…

EVEN A NEWBORN INFANT CAN DO THIS!!!!!

Yes, we should all be masters of this pose by the age of 3, and if we aren’t we need to trade in our original teachers for new ones because they aren’t doing their jobs!!

Smayate can be done anywhere at any time!

Ok, since my last question to the Universe I shared with my friends was “Can Inflexible, old muscleheads be Yoga teachers” I am please to once again suggest to you all that the Universe has answered me in an resounding “YES!!!!” The first pose I aim to teach you, my students, is my patented Smayate pose. The best part is that I won’t charge you a thing to learn it. You simply have to subscribe to my blog, to elephant journal, find me on Facebook, or become a devotee yourself by focusing on the JOY in your life. It doesn’t take a Master to find joy in one’s life, it takes a student. Enjoy being a student even as your light shines on others.

Thank you dear Universe for whispering in my ear once again. Once the ringing stops I will be able to hear what the rest of the world is saying, doing, and singing. Mostly, though, I am thankful for the kind of Masters I get to meet on a daily basis whether in my physical path, internet path, or whatever. I bow to you!

Here is a short video proving that Smayate is so easy even an infant can do it while eating his smashed bananas.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nkf08N50ows]

As you can see, it’s very easy and takes very little effort. You won’t need any mat, straps or blocks (unless, of course, they are your “thing”). In fact, you may be feeling the effects of the Smayate pose even now!

Now, take a few extra moments and enjoy the various Smayate poses I have taught below and in this post as demonstrated by the various Masters who have spent a lifetime studying it. Feel free to add your own, and to share with everyone you can!

PEACE!!!!

Chocolaty Smayate Pose

A Pose so simple even my dog has mastered it!!

Smayate Variant #1 (Dork Pose)

Can Inflexible, Old Muscle Heads be Yoga Teachers?

August 3, 2011 / tomgrasso

Chaturanga for the flexibly challenged

To see me do a downward facing dog is to see the Hunchback of Notre Dame looking for a fallen quarter. I’m not sure what to call my triangle pose, but the word “triangle” isn’t exactly an accurate description. What some call a yoga workout, I would call a comedy routine with me as the headliner.

Surely I am being a bit hard on myself. After all, it was only a year ago that I thought the ad on elephant journal for “hot yoga teachers” meant

What about "used to be hot" yoga teachers?

you had to be hot to be a yoga teacher. It was about two months back when I decided it was time to be able to actually scratch my own back. The time had come for me to bring my spiritual practice into my physical practice.

The interesting part to this is that I am actually pretty strong. I have lifted weights my entire life, building up an impressive number on nearly all strength lifts. In the nearly 30 years of most continual weight training, I never stretched and never put much importance on flexibility. I wasn’t injured often, and frankly never had the nagging pulled muscles that others I knew (who did stretch) had. “Stretching is for sissies” was my motto.

I used to box when I was in my early 20’s. My trainers used to scream at us for lifting

Shavasana Anyone? (Source: cagepotato.com)

weights. “Weights make you tight”, they would yell, as they tortured us for touching the iron. They would follow that up with “and stretching is for sissies”, just to make sure we got the point that stretching would be unnecessary if we just didn’t touch the weights. Still, I couldn’t stay away from the iron, I loved the way it made me feel and look. Ah, the ego and its wacky ways of getting you to see the world!

Today, I find myself laying crumbled on the floor after an hour of yoga saying “weight lifting is for sissies”. I mean I have done some strenuous workouts in my day, but nothing

Warrior Pose AGAIN?

like the types of postures Vinyasa Yoga has put me through. It’s pure torture, particularly if you push yourself like you do with iron. True, the “no pain, no gain” motto, that once defined my workouts, is completely obsolete today, but there is still an inner drive that pushes me beyond where I think I can go. For some, that may seem appropriate, but for me, in my understanding, it is something I need to work on.

My question to whoever will answer is “can inflexible, old muscleheads be Yoga teachers?” Maybe I can’t be a “hot” yoga teacher (it still makes me laugh), but can’t I provide others with some insight while they help me gain my body back? Can’t I become flexible and flowing despite my obvious inflexibility and lack of grace?

Are there others out there who have come from the same place?

Ok, I get it. I said “question” and have asked four. It’s just that my yoga instructors are all so flexible and lithe and I am so rigid and “blobby” (my word, not theirs). Is there

This is a dumb idea...(Source: http://www.sportsjokecafe.com)

a place for guys like me in the yoga teacher world? You can’t fault a guy for asking. After all, I feel like a football player, leaving the field wondering if he can teach ballet. The idea seems ludicrous but the idea is still there gnawing at me like a hamster on an acorn holding a barbell.

Anyway, I will continue to practice. I do love what it does for my body and how I feel afterward. I feel stronger as a result. I can only see me continuing the practice because of what it does for me physically, mentally and spiritually. My meditations are awesome after a sequence, they spring alive in the union yoga itself provides. Of course I realize that asanas are just one-eighth of yogic practice, but it is the one-eighth I have been ignoring all my life.

I look forward to any responses out there. Be well, find peace.

When am I no longer an “aspiring” writer?

August 3, 2011 / tomgrasso

Ok. You have to listen here. Not because I tell you to but because you want to. Wait, I take that back. Listen because I am telling you to, or because you love to see a grown man beg.

Yes, I am about to beg. In the tradition of Buddhist monks I am going to walk into the world with a proverbial bowl and two robes to begin this journey. Like Adam and Eve before the apple I am going to bare my Self. No fig leafs, no shame, just a verbal question to you all that follows up on the true action I have been asking the Universe.

“When will I no longer be an ‘aspiring’ writer?”

See, I have no formal training in the art of writing nor have I any real experience except in my hobby. What I do have is an innate talent and a great desire to write. I love pulling that part of me inside that hides out into the open and sharing it with the world. Writing is me at my most vulnerable, my most honest and my most real. It is the Self exposed in real time and the moment realized in the absence of time. It is paradise in my midst.

Now that the disclaimers are out of the way, let me say that I have absolutely no writers in my family. Nor are there friends who can share with me the experience or advice necessary for me to engage in my love of the written word. So, I have asked the Universe to become a writer. Again, I don’t ask the Universe in words for something which is, to some, ironic given my love of words. I ask in action. So, I began writing on my blog and then for elephant journal.

In this activity, the feedback I am getting has been tremendous. Emails, Tweets, posts, messages, texts and whispers in my ear all tell me “you should be a writer!” Um, ok. I appreciate the Universe answering me this way as it certainly has given me a push in some direction, but I have absolutely NO idea how to go about being a writer. Or at least feed my family while doing it.

So, now I ask the Universe by writing and, in the process, ask the fine readers of my blog and elephant journal “how do I become a professional writer?” To those volunteer firefighters (like me) out there who think the world “professional” doesn’t mean “paid”, I am speaking intently on getting paid to write (the volunteer firefighter thing will just have to wait for another post). What is the process? Who should I contact? What should I do to make a living doing what I love?

As you can see, I am not just asking for the process of writing. That much was given to me just after the sperm met the egg as well as the countless hours of practice I have had since. What I am asking is much more complicated, and any advice anyone can provide would be greatly appreciated and welcomed. For those who earn a living sharing their thoughts in written form, you know exactly what I am talking about. I hope you can share with me your experience and your suggestions.

Ok, now I can put my clothes back on. It was a bit chilly anyway. At least that’s the excuse I’ll give.

Thank you for your time and your help, as I know some of you will invariably be drawn to help this wondering soul. I can’t wait to get started, and look forward to a much clearer path ahead.

Be well, stay safe!

I’m in a rut!!! (or God is NOT a noun)

August 2, 2011 / tomgrasso

It appears, to me anyway, that we human beings are stuck in a many ruts. Not physical ruts, or insurmountable ruts, just ruts that are different things to different people. Yet, a rut may come from the same source, so while it appears to be a different challenge, it may

Unchain My Heart

all stem from the same origin. Allow me to explain (which means “please continue reading!).

As I observe my own experience, my own practice, and my own perspective I see a vision that envelopes me. This vision looks like the middle of the night. It is dark all around me, but there are enough visible points of light (stars) coupled with a few radiant Beings (the moon) that allow me just enough light to see. The stars have many “names”: Veronica, Gianna, Megan, Michael, Carol, Nancy, Steve, Joe, Lisa, David, Carlota, Chris, Monica, Kris, John, Derek, Vince, Mike, and Tanya just to name a few. Although equally meaningful, some are more distant than others with names like Buddha, Jesus, Wayne, Eckhart, Krishnamurti, Osho, Mohandas, Theresa, Thich, Adolf, Josef, and so on.

I don’t mean to give these stars any particular judgement. They are light, period. Truly some I have an enormous love for as they are close to me, but that doesn’t mean that those further away don’t have similar importance to my journey. They are all equal providers of

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star...(source NASA)

light, and help me in their own way to see the light by defining the darkness or to see the darkness by defining the light. Oddly enough, the darkness that surrounds me is of great value to me . It provides the light purpose and allows me tremendous focus on it. I love the darkness for this gift.

Please allow me to say that the darkness does not create this rut we are in. The darkness simply hides it so that we can fall in. The rut is an idea that the darkness hides. Darkness can hide this rut as a “truth”, or “faith”, or anger, or need, or countless other ideas the mind conjures up to hide the source of your suffering. While we focus on those ideas in vain attempts to solve them, we lose sight of the source itself, of the rut, and step into it. This darkness usually presents itself in the form of other ideas; what we commonly refer to as conditioning and faith.

For many of us, we take this plunge into the rut even before we are able to actually walk in the physical world. In this instance, the rut itself isn’t shrouded by our own ideas, but by the ideas of our parents or caregivers. They hide the rut from our eyes and teach us to step into it. It’s not their fault, however, they are in the rut unconsciously themselves and simply have a desire for us to walk in with them. This desire was, often, created by their own parents and caregivers who learned it from, well, guess who. It’s a reincarnation of energy from one generation to the next.

Even if I can’t prove our souls reincarnate, I can prove our ideas do. They have such a tremendous role in our experience that we not only attach ourselves to the ideas of our parents, but often teach those ideas to our own children regardless of how much we felt they were wrong in our own youth. We can’t help it for the most part, such is the depth of the rut. Others may have introduced us into the rut, but we ourselves choose to stay in it. That in itself is an important distinction and realization to make. It is the beginning to freedom.

We have the power to get out of the rut just as sure as we have the power to stay in it. It is easy to see that there is a certain comfort to “staying in the rut”. It’s what we know and ties us to the only familiarity that many of us can take comfort in: the role our parents play in our lives and the comfort we find in it. For some, that may mean showing love whenever possible. For others, it may mean disciplining the children harshly. We act like our parents (or repeat learned behaviors) because there is a certain comfort in it, even if we don’t like the behavior or what it will do to those we love or, equally important, what it did to us.

That leads me to something that occurred to me during my morning meditation on Sunday July 31st, that was expanded a bit on during the day. If I am “in a rut”, how do I get out of it? Oddly enough the answer came to me in a rather bizarre way. I was thinking about this topic while driving and, as I flipped the channels on my satellite radio receiver a voice through it said “God is the answer!” It was a very clear and distinct voice, and it caused me to pause long enough to see that I was on a Christian radio network. Yes, the Universe does work in very mysterious ways.

Ooops

The statement unto itself is relatively benign to me because I have been force fed it since I was a young lad going through a Catholic School education. I was taught that God is a Being very much like me except far more powerful and much less culpable for his behavior. He gets angry. He will “teach (me) a lesson”. He will damn me to hell and apparently take great joy in my eternal suffering. He will even kill me if he has had enough of me. Yet he loves me, is merciful and is compassionate. Yes, my head spun on its axis much when I was a child with many more questions than there were answers for. This is a condition that is continuing in my adulthood.

I remember those lessons well. They coincided with my mother who would often tell me that she beat me senseless because she “loved me”. I am sure it was something that she had heard in her life as well, yet the impact on me was tremendous. That was a great rut for me, one that I continue to struggle with today in a kind of a “one foot in, one foot out” way. Fortunately, today, I find only a toe falls in from time to time.

So how do we get out of these ruts we are in? In my experience the answer is simple even if the the work is not. See, for me the work entailed a great deal of change. That work led me to a new relationship with God, which of course led me to a new understanding of what a “relationship with God” meant. Honestly, climbing this mountain didn’t happen from reading a book on climbing mountains, it happened from climbing the mountain. I stumbled, I fell, I was battered, bruised, and bleeding. I caused “rocks” to fall on those around me while taking some falling rocks myself along the way. I learned to trust my lifelines, my stars, and my intuition. I learned (and am learning) what works for me and what doesn’t. That, my friends, is the key. You can’t LEARN about life, you have to experience life.

I use this “mountain” analogy a lot. It just seems the perfect metaphor for life. To some who view it as cliche, remember – my experience is brand new to me and is NOT cliche. If that metaphor seems cliche to you, well perhaps you are doing a bit too much reading and not enough climbing. You decide.

Anyway, I have never reached the summit of this figurative mountain. Rather, I have reached a thousand summits. Each realization is a summit unto itself. Each moment is a step toward something, even if it is just into an awareness of Now. Attachment to me is the cause of all failed attempts at the summit. I get hit by a proverbial rock and become attached to the suffering and never take another step upward. I bang my knee and become so absorbed by the bruise that I never reach for another foothold. I look around me and become so consumed by fear that I became fixed in my position. There is, after all, a great deal of security in staying put (or digging in) when fear strikes. Your mind says “I know I am safe here,” and you simply stop growing. You are stuck in a rut based on the idea that you aren’t safe anywhere else but “here”.

This is where God comes in. For me, God is not that magical painting I used to see in Church of that angry old man with a robe and staff pointing in my direction. Because I was taught from a young age that the image of God was that painting (or something like it), it took me quite a while to dissect and relearn what God was. This did not come from a book, it came from experience. I had to remove every preconceived notion of what God was in order to know what God is. That was not an easy task, particularly in a society that has this conditioned understanding of what God is and is rarely able to remove itself from that rut. This is true for both believers and atheists, they either have embraced a conditioned idea of what God is (give to us by books and the experience of others) or they have rejected that idea.

They have rejected the idea, but they can’t reject God. They have embraced an idea, but they can’t embrace God. The embracing of God would suggest that you were once separate from God. This makes no sense in my relationship (experience) of God.

First, the Hebrew Bible states that when Moses asked God for a name, God replied “I am that I am” or, in some translations, “I shall be that I shall be.” I meditated on this reply for some time. In fact, I still meditate on that reply. It has caused an understanding in me.

“God is not a noun, God is a verb.”

Now I dont’ want to beat the ground that has been beaten many times over in religious and spiritual circles for hundreds of years. I simply want to dwell on the response as it pertains to my own experience. If I look at God as a noun, then it is very likely that I am separate from God. God becomes limited as a noun. God is there and I am here. God is watching me. God is protecting me. God is causing great suffering to teach me a lesson. God is going to judge me. God is going to condemn me. God is going to…blah blah blah.

Now, let me change this with God as a verb. See, if God is a verb, God becomes unlimited. As a verb, God becomes something very much a part of me, something that I can do. As a verb, God does not have a religious connotation (you can’t own a verb), but does have a spiritual one. God does not forgive, God become forgiveness. God does not love, God becomes Love. God is not “all around”, God becomes what is all around in the form of energy. After all, what are all nouns at their core if not energy? Every single noun, at its core or quantum level, is nothing more than a verb trying to be understood. Every single person, place or thing is nothing more than an energy (verb) turned into a noun in order to be known. You, my friend, are no different.

Because of this relationship, God can be a method by which I remove myself from a rut. It was the experience of trying to climb out of ruts that gave me my experience (relationship) with God. It was that experience that taught me that God is in me and I am in God because I cannot be separate from my own choice of actions. I found those words in a book, but they spoke to my experience, there were not the experience themselves. God was the action of climbing, the rocks I used to gain a foothold at their quantum level, and the results.

Imagine if we used God as an action in our daily lives and not as a noun. Eliminate all ideas and suggestions of what God is (even the one I just presented) and have the experience for yourself. Recently, while performing yoga asanas, I had a realization that yoga was not the action to God, but the action of God. The inspiration flowed through me as the sweat poured out of me. God is not found at the destination, but in the journey. God is not the burning bush, but the burning that makes the bush known. God is not found in being still, God is found in being. Stillness just highlights the Being and allows us to see it through the haze of ideas, mindlessness and other ruts that permeate our daily existence. What would you be doing if God was the action and not a noun?

I thank you for the opportunity to share this experience. It is not meant to replace your own, just a sharing of the one I am having. Once you realize that you are having an experience, you have found God as I know God. There can be no atheism in this understanding because we are all having an experience even if we want to reject it (then rejection becomes the experience). I am sure I have touched but the tip of this mountain, but as I continue to climb I desire to simply be open to each and every experience that is available to me. Openness is the doorway to mindfulness for me.

Peace.