Heaven

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy." ~ William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act I, Scene V

I am a firm believer in Heaven. I can feel it with my heart and my soul and within the essence of my spirit. Although atheists may believe that the notion of Heaven is "opiate for the masses", I remain firm in my contention that there is another realm of being after this life on earth. Life is far too precious and far too short to simply end unresolved. What I've found most fascinating, after years of studying the subject, is that all religious traditions have similar beliefs in a post-life experience. The language each one uses may be different, and therefore, may lead to disagreement and confusion. However, the fact that, just as with the Great Flood, this notion exists at all in cultures around the world, leads credence to a universal, human belief and universal memory of Heaven.

In Larry Libby's wonderful children's book, "Someday Heaven", the author explores his own opinion, mixed with Christian tradition and Biblical references, about the possibilities of what lies beyond this life. When I was the Director of Education for our church, I used this extraordinary book as the basis for a unit study, as well as with my own young children when my father passed away. "Someday Heaven" paints a beautiful picture, describing Heaven in metaphors that children can relate to. Mr. Libby asks his readers to imagine having a wonderful day...the best they had ever had. He goes on to describe that feeling of having to get off your favorite swing, put your toys away and to say goodbye to your friends. He then invites us to imagine never having to say those goodbyes, never having to end a game, and never having to relinquish that delicious feeling of having the time of your life. The truly inspiring aspect of this book was how much it has touched every adult I've ever met who has read it, and been uplifted by it. When a children's book, even one on spiritual matters, can be understood at a deeper level by grown ups, I believe it has exceptional merit. The picture "Someday Heaven" paints is one of hope, of comfort and of a delightful eternity...as a "good day that lasts forever".

Painting, the art form, is often the medium that best captures different individuals' ideas about Heaven. Reubens, Da Vinci, Micheangelo, Botticelli, El Greco, Velazquez and countless others created the artistic equivalent of a snapshot of their own beliefs and opinions as to the nature of Heaven. The extraordinary Mandalas created by Buddhist monks evoke "visions of Heaven", as they envision them. The beautiful aspect of the Mandala is its circular nature: it has no beginning and no end. The images we see of Heaven are as varied as human beings themselves. Just as no two artists imagine Heaven in quite the same way, neither do no two people. We bring with us our own preconceived notions, our own imaginations and our own belief traditions. We bring with us, as we create our personal imagery, our childhood ideals, our adult concepts and our religious training. We carry forward our unique personalities and our special preferences. The artistic impression of Heaven is neither right nor wrong. It is that personal, exceptional and individual concept of Heaven that I find so captivating.

I believe no film has ever had a greater impact on me than "What Dreams May Come", starring Robin Williams and Cuba Gooding, Jr. Far from the usual Robin Williams flair for off the cuff comedy, this brilliantly and beautifully created film captures the horror of what happens in one family, and the exceptional world in which they reunite. Using one family member's paintings as the impetus for Heaven, Robin Williams takes a journey throughout the next realm to find his loved ones once again. In taking up this quest, his character comes to understand a great deal more about life on earth, about his role as husband and father and about the power of love. Buddhists might use this film to establish the concept of Enlightenment. Christians would clearly see the metaphors for how we live on Earth effecting our existence in Heaven. And yet, specific religious traditions aside, the stunning concept of stepping literally into a painting, as the basis of Robin Williams' idea of Heaven, comes closer to my own personal beliefs than any I've encountered.

The Maoris believe in levels of the afterlife, closely resembling the ideas accepted by the Hindu faith. The Jews picture the"World to Come" and the Baha'i tradition believes Heaven is an eternal alignment with God. Christian views differ greatly, depending upon the tradition of any particular school of though, but all see Heaven as an infinite existence of everlasting joy. Plato saw our world as mere shadow of the idealized, perfected world that awaits us. But, what do my own personal beliefs tell me? I believe my own conception of Heaven has been created by my own life experiences, my own tastes and sensibilities and my own hopes in what I wish to see. I do believe that I have created my own reality in how I perceive "The World to Come" with an Episcopalian twist. But, deep down, I submit that most people have probably done the same thing. For my husband, a lover of nature and especially of the steep hills and woods of New England, I see a Heaven of extraordinary trails and mountains views. For my mother, I envision an idealized Europe, full of art, music, culture and all the dogs she's ever loved welcome at every outdoor cafe. For myself, I picture a mixture of all the eternal worlds of those I love. I see myself able to travel between them all with ease. I see a magnificent English library, containing floor to ceiling books, and eternity to read them all. I imagine the world's most comfortable chairs, a roaring fire, my precious pets at my feet and a cup of perfectly brewed tea at my elbow at all times. I envision a lovely conservatory off to one side with sweeping views of the places I love best. Perhaps I will see Notre Dame Cathedral one moment, and Sugarloaf mountain the next. Maybe I will see the beautiful foothills above Santa Barbara, the canals of Venice or the bright lights of Broadway. I can just as easily picture our own quiet cove in Maine, as I can my honeymoon spot in the extraordinary Austrian Alps.

That's the amazing part of "My Blue Heaven"....it's ever changing, it's dynamic and it's unique to me. In the same way, I imagine your own Heaven to be unique to you. Regardless of whether or not one shares in my beliefs, I find the subject and idea of Heaven to be a true delight. Whether Heaven is "a good day that lasts forever", "eternal oneness with the Divine", "a peaceful way station before the World to Come" or simply another doorway, I believe each of us have our own stamp on what part of us goes on forever. For those who believe this world simply ends, and we cease to exist, that too, is a concept of closing a chapter. But, in my C.S. Lewis belief fashion, I look forward to my own journey of "Onward and Upward".

Lost in Translation

"Follow the yellow brick road..." L. Frank Baum, "The Wizard of Oz".

One of the features my car came equipped with is a built in GPS system. Using global positioning, the computer can tell me where I am, and give me clear directions to my destination. I have found this tool to be incredibly helpful, over the past two years, during one cross country drive, and many trips around New England and Canada for my teenagers' athletic and school events. No more fussing with maps. No more arguing with my husband as to what is a highway, and what is, in fact, a river. Because our honeymoon was spent in the Austrian Alps, driving from one beautiful vista to another, maps began to be a bone of contention in my marriage, as I seem to lack the basic intellectual brain chip that would enable me to plan and plot a reasonable (and possible) course. Hence, having a GPS, after 20 years of marriage, seemed like a gift from Heaven....the computer could tell us which turns to make, what landmarks we would pass and even help us to find the most feasible rest stops. Unfortunately, this past weekend, our directions were lost in translation.


Our daughter was going to spend the week at a friend's house in southern Massachusetts. The highway route and directions from the interstate to her classmate's home were clear and easy to follow. We gratefully listened to "Please exit to follow I-495 South" and "Turn right at the next intersection". We were very pleased when the GPS informed us that "We had arrived at our destination". Unfortunately, our return home was not as simple. For reasons we have yet to comprehend, the GPS computer didn't backtrack the way we came. Instead, we found ourselves being ordered to drive around random neighborhoods, head away from the highway and traverse towns completely out of our way. We turned onto tiny rural roads, and drove through main streets of unfamiliar villages. In short, the GPS lost us. It insisted we take roads that would lead us away from our destination or from any main roads. It demanded we make U-Turns if we tried to head in the general area we knew needed to be. It became difficult and argumentative when we chose not to follow its ridiculous directions. I may be anthropomorphising the GPS, but I think it was angry at us, and vented.


Eventually, my husband and I, having lived in various parts of New England for most of our lives, simply ignored the GPS. We looked at the map it supplied, but refused to listen to one more directed turn into a residential development. After a great deal of confusion, heated debate on which way to proceed, we found a familiar road number eventually, one that we knew would take us to the highway. We did learn our lesson. GPS computers are simply tools. They are not, as I had once believed, magical devices created just to make my life easier. Sometimes the information they dispense is incorrect, but because they are not thinking, creative humans, they just regurgitate what information they posses. Eventually, we found our way, we came to more familiar territory and we arrived home safe and sound, and not too much later than we'd planned to be.

This experience helped me to think deeply about communication, and about how much we depend upon information given to us, rather than information we ferret out for ourselves. While services like the GPS, Internet search engines and the media can give us information, how accurate can we trust it to be? How meaningful to our specific need is this recommendation or guidance? While news and reports are valuable tools, we must not stop simply taking each piece we receive as the absolute truth of any situation, whether it is driving directions or seemingly factual accounts of note. It is critical that we learn to process the knowledge given to us and create our own sense of accuracy and believability. Just as my husband and I were positive the GPS was shepherding us further and further away from our path, we must be clear about the other information we receive in our lives, and in which direction it leads us. We must become literate in our decision making, and not be led astray, just because we are told a path to take. We must learn to trust our intuition, at times, and readjust our direction if we head off course, both figuratively and literally.


In Yoga, one of the asanas that can aid in helping us discern our direction is Gate Pose. In Gate, we are opening our bodies, in two ways: the first is the outward expression of reaching upwards and opening our hearts. The inward work that Gate post can help us accomplish is to allow our hearts to be open to both the outward flow from within us, as well as the inward flow from the universe into our lives. Gate pose is one of the asanas that allows us to find our direction. We can stretch our bodies and work into the incredible sense of openness, and we can work our minds and hearts to achieve that same kind of flexibility. We can move out of the pose and readjust by making small changes to help us to gain the maximum benefit. Just as in the rest of our lives, Gate pose can aid us in finding areas in which we are heading correctly, as well as those spots we need to rethink.


On life's journey, take the time to reassess your situation. Don't blindly listen to directions if they seem wrong or out of balance. Process the information you're given and use it in the way that best suits your goal. Above all, don't be afraid to simply stop and turn around. It's much better to reverse direction than it is to wind up in a river.

100th Blog Post: Inspiration & Gratitude

"Enthusiasm is excitement with inspiration, motivation and a pinch of creativity." ~ Bo Bennett

As I begin my 100th blog post, I am compelled to reflect upon how very much the Preppy Yogini has meant to me. This outlet has been a defining influence on taking the next steps on the path of my life. I have been immeasurably blessed by the love, interest and thoughts shared by readers (even those I'm related to!), and want to express my thanks to any and all who have taken an interest in my random, rambling thoughts. As I've been reading over my previous 99 posts, I'm not only thankful I've had this medium for learning to write more fluently, but for what I've learned about myself...my own history and my thought processes. Writing this blog has been a window that I'm grateful to have to gaze along my psyche. My humble gratitude aside, I would like to touch on just a few areas in which I have found my own personal growth and on which, I am continuing to discover my voice.

YOGA, it will come as no surprise, has been a defining aspect of my life. I began taking yoga classes almost 10 years ago, when a dear friend begged me to come to class with her. This invitation was given at a dinner party, over a glass of wine. She wasn't positive that Yoga was going to be 'her thing' but wanted to have me along for moral support. As fate would have it, my friend became a serious and dedicated runner, and I fell in love with Yoga. I began to study in earnest, and found extraordinary teachers to aid me in my quest to learn more. I found a confidence in myself and, for the first time in my life, began to look at my body without self-criticism and disgust at my lack of perfection, but with appreciation for all I could learn to do. When I was diagnosed with cancer in 2003, and then again with another serious illness that landed me in intensive care in 2007, Yoga was the single most critical part of my life in helping my recovery. Not only was I in excellent physical condition to withstand the harsh demands my weakened body was making on me, but my mind knew calming, restorative and peaceful techniques to aid me in some of the most invasive time and procedures. After my initial illness 5 years ago, I began my Registered Yoga Teacher training, and I have found it to be the best decision I could have made. Not only has this enabled me to give back and teach many of the thoughts and techniques that have blessed me, but I have discovered that in teaching, in sharing what I've learned, I myself have been incredibly blessed in return by my students' own journeys.

READING WONDERFUL BOOKS has been a touchstone in my life from the time I could pick up my first Dr. Seuss book. Being able to share and review books that have inspired me, entertained me, taught me lessons or simply made an impact on me, has been a large part of this website. In my mind and heart, a book that touches my life changes me forever. I carry that story, those characters and those ideas with me, and they become a part of who I am. As a lifelong bibliophile, I believe I embody Webster's definition of "a lover of books". I am a passionate, voracious reader. Like a connoisseur of fine wines, I enjoy basking in the moment of each high quality literary novel I read. My love of books has seen me through many moves throughout my childhood, my years being away in schools far from home, as a new Army wife in a foreign country, and throughout each new phase of my life. Books have been my companions, my friends, my teachers and my inspiration. I have discovered that, just as my quest for elegance and eloquence in yoga has spurred me on to keep movitated in my learning process, so has the hunt for extroardinary novels. It has been an unbridbled pleasure to be able to share what I've learned from those I have found exceptional.

From the moment I could pick up a pencil and scribble my first thoughts onto a piece of scratch paper at my little next next to my mother's, I knew I wanted to write. I had thoughts I was compelled to commit to paper. My mother and grandmother bound my first little books themselves and started me on my quest to learn how to truly express myself WRITING. Although I have never been a professional writer, it's always been my life goal to establish a career as one. I've been fortunate to have had the chance to incorporate writing into every other position I've held. As a teacher and Director of Education, I wrote and produced plays for my students, using historical events as the jumping off point. I discovered what many good teachers know: that children learn by *doing*. By acting in plays written about a specific area of significance, these students remembered what they learned because they made the play their own. Writing has also given me a philosophical and emotional outlet during both difficult times and joyful ones. By expressing myself through the written word, I've been able to share the passion I feel for meaningful subjects in my life, and I've been able to work through painful emotions during times of great stress. To quote Arthur Polotnik, "You write to communicate to the hearts and minds of others what's burning inside you. And we edit to let the fire show through the smoke." Writing has given me a map of my life, that I'm able to read in both directions.

And, so I feel profoundly grateful for my first 100 blog posts. I look forward to writing more, to reading more, to deepening my yoga practice. I look forward to all of the wonders that await me, and am fully prepared for the tears and laughter that lie ahead. My thanks, my best wishes and my undying appreciation for being such patient readers.

What things there are to write, if one could only write them! My mind is full of gleaming thought; gay moods and mysterious, moth-like meditations hover in my imagination, fanning their painted wings. But always the rarest, those streaked with azure and the deepest crimson, flutter away beyond my reach. ~Logan Pearsall Smith

Liberation

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most. We ask oursleves, "Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?" Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our prescence automatically liberates others...."~ Nelson Mandela, quoting Marianne Williamson

It isn't often that I use a quote, as the foundation and inspiration for my blog posts, to be as long as the one Nelson Mandela spoke at his inagural address, as the one above. And yet, a great part of me feels that I could simply leave the quote, and allow this space to be empty. The fact is there is very little I can add to such a statement, very little enlightenment I can share and very few thoughts I can pass along to bring this sentiment's meaning with further clarity. The idea of viewing ourselves in this way is both liberating and terrifying. How can we step back and view ourselves as wonderful and meaningful creatures, filled with all the potential in the universe, when we are beset with self-doubt, weighed down by years of criticism and fear of failure? Hypothetically, it is potentially life changing to release all of those chains of bondage we wear in the place of success. And yet, we find comfort in those chains, don't we?

Most of us are comfortable with the familiar. We like to know what is expected of us. We operate well within parameters. This isn't to say we don't have moments of creative inspiration or act as mindless drones all the time. But, we tend to view the world, both our own personal one as well as the wider one, in familiar terms. Over the years we build up our chains, binding our potential and keeping us thinking of ourselves in certain, 'never altering' terms. What do I mean by chains? Surely none of us are physically bound by linked metal. Still, the ways in which we keep our potential locked up can be just as limiting as those ropes of iron. After a while we fail to notice that they even exist. Like Jacob Marley, Ebenezeer Scrooge's doomed ghost of a partner, we rattle our chains and wear them for eternity. While ours may be metaphorically, they are every bit as heavy and oppressive as Jacob Marley's. Marley came back to show Scrooge a different way...a chance to redeem himself from a life of selfishness, hard heartedness and cruelty. What is fascinating about Dickens' portrayal of Scrooge's journey is not the various ghosts that visit him, but rather, the way that Scrooge releases his fears based on past hurts of his own. We learn that Scrooge did not set out in life to be an angry, bitter, greedy man. We understand that he picked up that mantle as a method of self-presevation. He came to see his chains as a way to protect himself.

Most of us pick up our chains through very little fault of our own. We are told by teachers that we're stupid, lazy or undesirable. We internalize peer pressure to conform our very thoughts to the standards currently in vogue. We suppress our talents because experience teaches that putting ourselves 'out there', we risk immense hurt, humiliation and failure. Once we have had our hearts broken and our inadequacies are exposed, we are far more likely to don figuartive bullet proof vests, shutting out even more than chains. When we have been told 'no' enough times, we stop asking. We forget that we loved to sing, or to write, or to dance. We distance ourselves from our passions because keeping them close risks exposing our desire for them. We deny ourselves the pleasure of possibility because of the chance for frustration and defeat. As Mark Twain said, over 100 years ago, "Once a cat sits on a hot stove, he won't ever do it again. But, he also won't sit on a cold one." Like cats in fear of sitting on a hot stove, we suppress our hopes and dreams. We feel deficient and remain uncompleted.

So, what do we do next? How do take that first scary step of releasing our chains? What do we need to do to feel those hints of liberation? We must simply begin with our hearts in our throats and just do it. We take chances, create new prospects and risk embarrasment. For most of us, the fear of dreading humiliation is much worse than the mortification proves to be. We begin by asking for help from people whose talents we admire. We start by taking a stab at something new. We simply aspire to do more, to be more and to experience more than our current limitations allow. As a writer, I'm opening myself up to learning from more experienced mentors. It's terrifying. I'm afraid my mentor will tell me that I am a talentless hack. And yet, even if that's what I'm told, I feel grateful that I have the chance to even try. If the worst case scenario is being unsuccessful, then I will be no worse off than I am...always wondering. My mother once told me not to be afraid: that the worst someone can say is "no". What we all need to do, myself especially included, is to be okay with the possibility of "no", but to prepare for the chance of "yes".

In my yoga classes, I will often begin with an invitation to my students. We will focus on one area in our lives that we would like to improve. We breathe and focus all of our thoughts on achieving that hope. Then, bringing our hands, palm up, to our mouths, we blow those hopes into the universe, asking God to help us find the path that makes those hopes come to fruition. This exercise is not about opening up a fortune cookie or reading a horoscope. It's giving us a mental, tangible way to release those feelings we bind to ourselves, but also embracing the proactive approach to attaining the next step. One of my own mentors has told me that sometimes I need to get out of my own way. In sharing this with my students, not only am I passing this wise life approach forward, but I'm learning to live it as I share it. I have found the best teachers are those who are, themselves, constantly learning to be more open. I hope that, as I learn to release the bonds of insecurity and doubt that plague my own journey, both personally and professionally, I can show my students that they, too, can release...and then begin to soar.

As we meditate on Nelson Mandela's words, I hope that each of you can find one area in which to let go of your apprehension and invite in assurance that all will be well. As you do so, you may find that you encourage all those around you to do the same...or even grow beyond you. To me, the mark of a life well lived isn't what we do ourselves, but what we can inspire in others.

Alter Egos

The greatest discovery of my generation is that a human being can alter his life by altering his attitudes of mind. ~ William James

The use of an alter-ego has long been fuel for fiction, both literary and on film. Where would Batman be without Bruce Wayne? Where would Spiderman be without Peter Parker? Or, even Superman as Clark Kent? These superheroes would be mobbed, swarmed and be unable to function in society without their 'mild mannered' counterparts, masquerading as simple citizens. By having an alter-ego, living the 'normal' life, these superheroes are able to exist undetected by both friend and foe. They're able to listen to others, in the average world around them, and glean information that could prove incredibly helpful in their crime fighting efforts. They might have extraordinary powers, amazing gadgets and unique skill sets, but when it comes right down to the hard facts, being tapped into a social network has its benefits to their superhero lives.

One question has always haunted me, however: is it Superman who needs Clark Kent, or is it the other way around? When I honestly think about the fact of Superman just wanting to be a 'normal newspaper reporter', I have to smile. I imagine that Clark Kent would get awfully bored not being able to fly, not allowing himself to soar high above ground. I would be so bold as to allow myself to think that Clark Kent would not make it without Superman....and that he needs his superhero side to shine. After all...how many people really like Clark Kent just for being the 'nice guy'? Not many. I would imagine that, whatever his protests to the contrary, Clark Kent likes being Superman. He needs to be Superman. It fulfills the essential part of who he's missing. The heroic, well loved, popular, successful part of the man he wants to be *is* Superman.

A film I would have missed entirely, had I not been the mother of a 17 year old son, is "Fight Club", starring Brad Pitt and Edward Norton. This movie is an amazingly complex story, containing twists and turns I never could have predicted. Edward Norton's character is much like the stereotypical "Clark Kent". He's nobody memorable. He lives a dull, meaningless life and has trouble making connections with people. And yet, he meets (or rather, creates) his alter ego, played by Brad Pitt, and he befriends his other self. Where Edward Norton is soft spoken, predictable, conformist and yuppie, Brad Pitt's side of him is brash, bohemian, dangerous and free thinking. The essential aspect of this movie, the piece I found so compelling, was that the alter ego is viewed as a clearly different personification. In a brilliant bit of storytelling writer Chuck Palahniuk creates two distinct lives; both belonging to the same person. This defining difference is clearly what delineates the character of "Tyler Durden" from his fellow alter ego literary figures: Tyler Durden does not realize he is, or has, an alter ego. As Tyler Durden comes to the realization that he is living the lives of two exceptionally different men, he says, in one of my favorite quotes from the film, "People do it everyday, they talk to themselves... they see themselves as they'd like to be, they don't have the courage you have, to just run with it."

The idea of having an alter ego is one that many of us have had from time to time. When I was growing up, I wanted to be Samantha from "Bewitched". I wanted to be able to twitch my nose to cast a spell to solve problems, just as she did. I imagined myself living in a beautiful home, having adorable children, but knowing that, at any moment, I could give my nose a twitch, and have an elegant meal prepared. (I never understood Darren's hatred of Samantha's magic, but that's fuel for another post). Although I can't live as a suburban mother, with a hidden talent, as Samantha did, I do find that being able to write as the Preppy Yogini does give me a hint of what that feeling must be like...to a very small extent. Writing has been my creative outlet, my homage to the people who are far more intelligent and inventive than I am. It has given me my other world to explore....that can grow above my mundane life as a mom and a yoga teacher. I will never be Superman. I will never be Tyler Durden, with an entire separate being living a fantasy life of which I could only imagine. But, I can write hoping to become the embodiment of the traits I most admire.

I understand I will never fly like Superman, twitch my nose like Samantha, or create an entirely separate existence for myself, but I can attempt to be more creative, more inspiring and more thoughtful. I can hope to be kinder, gentler and more patient. By writing, both my blogs and in my fiction work, I'm able to work through all my own short comings, and hopefully, succeed more fully as a human being. If I can write it, I can attempt to be it.

Changing Perspective

There are as many nights as days, and the one is just as long as the other in the year's course. Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word 'happy' would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness. ~ Carl Jung


There were very few lessons I taught, as a traditional classroom teacher, that were more popular as my unit study on optical illusions. Every picture looks different depending upon the view on takes. If one focuses on the white area in the illusion to the right, you will see a goblet. If the focus shifts to the black, the eye detects mirror images of faces in silhouette form. The children clamored to see both sides of the images projected. Their hands would rise up with glee, "Mrs. Stanclift! I can see them both!", bursting with pride that their eyes could focus on two separate images, all within one picture. Many of us have seen them over the years, not only in 3rd grade class assignments, but on tote bags, note cards and book covers. These exercises are wonderful for training the brain not to only see what our eyes tell our mind at first glance: we must also train them to look for something deeper...something from a different perspective.


As much as I tried, there were always students could consistently only visualize one image...and simply were not willing, or able, to deviate from that picture. As much as I'd have "Susie" or "Johnny" really focus on their efforts on seeing only the the white, calling it forward and asking the opposite color to recede, they simply were not comfortable letting go of their way of looking at the optical illusions. I'll never forget one of my students, "Maggie". Maggie liked to do everything right. She was my wonderful helper when it came time to pass out papers and was always the ideal of organization in both her desk and cubby. Her shoes were always lined up perfectly and her attendance chart showed an unbroken row of glistening, tinsel stars. But, when our optical illusion unit began, Maggie remained unchanged in her ability to only see the faces, never the goblet. When we worked on this, she told me, sadly, "I'm afraid that if I look for the goblet, I'll never see the faces anymore." Maggie's hesitation had less to do with her visual skills, than her fear of letting go of what was known and comfortable to her.


Great literature often takes the role of optical illusion to the realm of storytelling. As an avid, passionate, and voracious reader, I love books that challenge my beliefs and perspectives as I read a story. I enjoy being teased in one certain direction, only to find that the true depth of the story lies in much deeper layers than it appears on the surface. Two classic tales that personify this method, by drawing the reader in, bit by bit, as if winding in a timid kitten with a ball of yarn, slowly and methodically, are undoubtedly "The Sound & The Fury" by William Faulkner and "The Alexandria Quartet" by Laurence Durrell. Although both writers express and explore this dynamic in separate ways, these classics represent writers who were willing to take a risk and experiment with storytelling, using the perspectives of each character to keep the reader learning more. Just when the reader becomes compliant with her belief in the way events have unfolded, the writer changes perspective and style, keeping us on our toes, and making certain that we look deeply for the metaphorical goblet, letting go of the image of two faces.



A contemporary writer, whom I deeply admire and am proud to call a friend, is Dan Domench. His most recent audio book is both flawlessly and breathtakingly performed, and his literary style of exploring character perspective is refreshing and unique. Using a series of linked short stories, all read by extraordinary actors, Domench is able to draw further into the world he has created in rural Maine. Each character looks to an event with a different motivation and therefore, sees the stories unfold as they touch his, or her, life. And yet, without the background, ideas, opinion and mood of the various storytellers, we would be without a complete grasp of just how the climax of the book unfolds. It's a masterful achievement by a wonderful writer, but it's also deeply compelling. "Wayside Cross" should be held up as an example of alternative storytelling, not only for its highly entertaining prose, but also for its fluid narrative creating an entire realm of being, without narration....only by characterization. Yet, without being open to hearing the voices of each character speak, and allowing their own stories to educate us, we would never become aware of the full picture.

How often in life do we hold fast to a way of looking at the world because it's the perspective we've always held? How often are we told, at work or in life, "we do it this way because that's the way it's always been done"? And yet, by shifting our perspective to truly listen to someone else point of view, ideas, thoughts or concerns we may find our world rocked for the better. I used to be extremely certain of both myself, and my place in the world. And yet, I find that as I open myself to listen, just listen, to what an opposing point of view might be, my knowledge is expanded and my understanding increases. Does this mean I always change mind about a life issue, way of doing a task or moral dilemma? Not necessarily. There are times I'm deeply moved by hearing another person's point of view, even if I'm still disinclined to agree. Opening our ears and our minds to another standpoint does not mean our own points of views must waver with each word we hear. Rather, these differing opinions can help us shore up where we stand on an issue. Only listening to those who agree with us is not beneficial for lifelong education. As Abraham Lincoln once said, "We learn more from our adversaries than from our friends."

So, challenge the way you read, the way you listen and the way you think. You may well find that your beliefs hold fast. You may find your curiosity is peaked. You may also discover that you allow yourself to be open to an entirely new way of exploring the world around you. However, it's still okay if you only see the two faced silhouette. The Earth won't cease in its rotation if you simply are comfortable seeing the world one way. Life is an invitation, not a command.

Imagination

"Imagination is more important than knowledge". ~ Albert Einstein

I have a vivid imagination. As a child, I would often have one foot in my imaginary world, and another in reality. I never felt fully present in both, except in my dreams, in which I could soar. My imagination allowed me to climb the Himalayas with a Sherpa as my guide, magically stumbling across Shangri-La, hidden in a secret valley that only I could discover. I could cross the open prairie, traveling through tall, waving grasses, in a Conestoga wagon. I remember making my own covered wagon with pillows and blankets and being able to feel each dip and jostle on the well worn path west. I could imagine myself to be a lady in waiting in the court of Queen Elizabeth, bowing to her Majesty and wearing gowns of brocade, silk and pearls. In my thoughts, I was a Chinese girl, working in the rice fields, an Ancient Egyptian, feeling the heat off the baked mud walls of the low buildings in the marketplace or a Russian girl, living a "Fiddler on the Roof" existence of musical joy, mixed with fear of the cossacks. I attended a progressive Montessori school, and was allowed to finish my math quickly in order to hide myself in the window seat of the library, and lose myself in books about young women from long ago. This practice both fed my insatiable curiosity for the words to describe the actual world around me, and also gave me more secret windows in which to enter another, hidden world.

Albert Einstein once wrote: "Imagination is more important than knowledge." I heartily agree. Without imagination, there would be no progress. There would be conformity, uniformity and one method of thinking that leaves no room for improvement. There would no light, no electricity, no indoor plumbing, no printing presses, no cars, no structurally sound buildings, no heat, other than fires. There would be no irrigation, to bring water to feed crops and there would be widespread famine. There would be no understanding in medicine, and extraordinary strides to save lives. Diseases like Smallpox and Polio would still leave mothers in fear for their babies. The Plague would still run rampant and populations would be devastated. Creative thought has enabled civilization to communicate more effectively, remain healthier and to travel much further in shorter periods of time.

However, with creativity comes responsibility. Just because we have active imaginations doesn't mean we must always enact each and every idea that crosses our train of thought. Overactive imaginations have also led civilizations astray. Would there have been slavery, had it not been for the imagination for those who believed they were *better* than those they had enslaved? Would there have been witch trials and the Inquisition, had it not been for people's imaginations run amok? Just because we can imagine something that seems fantastical, does it make it a real and accurate possibility? Therein lies the great philosophical question of all the ages.

In Yoga, we explore imagination balanced with controlling our thoughts. The most challenging aspect of learning to become a Yogini for me were not the physical "asanas", or poses. I quickly learned how to practice Sun Salutations, Tree Pose, Shoulder Stand and the entire Warrior series. I marveled at how quickly my body was becoming stronger, more toned and more flexible. A lifelong Klutz, known to all as being able to trip over my own feet for no reason, I gained confidence in my ability to control my body. I fell down stairs less often and had fewer experiences of hitting myself in the head every time I closed the rear hatch of my car. This alone was a minor miracle! And yet, when it came time to control my thoughts, even as happy daydreams, the skill alluded me. During times of meditation and relaxation, I experienced what the Indian Yogis refer to as "Monkey Mind": my thoughts skipping from tree to tree, branch to branch, never alighting on any one place for long. The class around would be peacefully focused on nothing but the breath, and I would be experiencing the hyperactive Chihuahua thought sensation of "What if I go to the market before I go home? Do I have enough money to pay bills today? What if Josh doesn't pass his English test? What if Caroline doesn't get the part she wants in The Nutcracker? Do the dogs need to go to the vet for their ear infections? Do I look fat today? Do at least my thighs look fat? Did I return the movies? How much laundry has piled up? Seriously, am I fatter than that woman in the corner wearing blue?"

Thankfully, I had a wonderful master teacher. She helped me to use my restless and "bouncing Golden Retriever chasing ball" imagination to help conjure images that I could then control...thereby, controlling my thoughts. The technique she helped me to employ was that of carriage driver with four horses. My imagination was traveling in so many different directions at once, that the use of four separate horses gave me the ability to see each train of thought in those different directions those thoughts wanted to veer off the course. As the carriage driver, it was my job to keep an eye on those horses. I needed to be aware of where they each wanted to go, to understand their choice of direction, and yet, when the time was right, to have the secure ability to rein each one in separately. If Horse A wanted to go to the left, and Horse C wanted to turn off to the right, it was my mind's job to keep them heading straight where I chose for them to go and not off course. Perhaps Horse B was nervous and just wanted to turn around and backtrack, and Horse D just felt bored and wanted to race ahead, far in the future at full gallop. Then, I needed to slow my breath and reiterate the slow, steady, calm and direct pace in the correct direction, at the correct speed.

This mental game, or technique, allowed me to gain mastery over my thoughts, but did not kill my individualism or creativity. It simply allowed me to have use of a tool to know where and when to be creative, and where and when to focus my thoughts sharply on one thing: being at peace. Did this hurt my imagination or creative process when I did call upon it? Quite the opposite. I have found that my imagination can be called up more fully and more clearly at my command. I still have moments of random sparks of creativity, and I still daydream. However, I also have the ability now to use this technique at my disposal to ask "Horse A...where would you like to go today?" when working on a creative assignment. I find myself being taken on a wonderful journey, but on my command. Rather than kill my imaginative instinctive process, yoga has given me a way to to focus it and utilize it far more effectively. I have been able to squeeze the metaphorical creative juices out of the bottom of the tube, rather than just skimming off the top, and completely changing directions. It's been a fascinating, and energizing, skill sharpening exercise.

So, as an immense fan of imagination, I encourage all to explore this side of your personalities. Write! Draw! Paint! Play music! Sing! Dream! But, be the master of your carriage, and allow it to take you where you decide, all the while knowing that you can steer your chariot in whichever direction you choose.