Tuesdays with Timji

Tuesday February 26th

The 2nd annual Ashtanga Yoga Confluence is only two days away and I am starting to get pysched up for it. Last year was such a blast and unfolded in such a seamless and organic way, that it will be hard to top—but I think it can be done. The opportunity for me to be together with so many old friends, colleagues, and students to celebrate the life’s work of K. Pattabhi Jois, our beloved Guruji, and to acknowledge the profound impact that this man and his teachings have had upon my life is a rare and wonderful blessing. It’s like a big party—the chance to hang out and work with some old and very dear friends, reconnect with many wonderful students that I have met and worked with over the years, and to meet some new folks and make some new friends. Already the participants in the Confluence are arriving. Today I met Buddhi from Singapore and Kevin from Vietnam. The 9am Mysore class this morning was bursting at the seams with the new arrivals and I expect it will continue that way for the next couple of days. All of the teachers are arriving in the next couple of days and I am excited to see everyone. This year I have not been asked to pick up any one at the airport so I haven’t had to keep track of anyone’s arrival. Luckily for me and probably for the participants, I am not one of the organizers of this event. My wife, Carol, is, and I marvel at the amount of work she has taken on and the many tasks she is faced with every day—the endless emails and phone calls, copy editing, shopping, etc. I’m hoping she makes it through the weekend without ending up in a sanitarium.

The fun begins on Thursday at 4:30 with a Ganesha Puja orchestrated by the one and only Eddie Stern. Eddie is like an American Brahmin, able to flawlessly chant all of the traditional mantras and perform the sacred rituals in a very authentic way. Ganesha is the Lord of Threshholds and the Remover of Obstacles. In India He is honored at the beginning of any auspicious occasion to insure that it is both successful and beneficial. Friday morning at 7 is the first Mysore class, probably around 150 students and 9 or 10 teachers. It’s a wild scene and hard work for the teachers, but also lots of fun. The second batch comes in at 8:30, probably about the same size, and goes until 10. That’s three hours straight teaching Mysore and managing 300 bodies. I don’t know about the other teachers, but normally my Mysore classes are only two hours. There’s a possibility I may need to sneak out at some point for a cappuccino. The first panel discussion of the day happens after breakfast. Our new moderator this year is my old buddy Dominic Corigliano, who will keep things lively and interesting. Last year the panels were often hilarious as well. Guruji had a wonderful sense of humor and seems to have transmitted it to some of his students. After lunch I’m teaching “The Mysterious and Elusive Bandhas” in my never- ending quest to articulate the ineffable. The reward for enduring this is an opportunity to sing the Hanuman Chalisa (with the bandhas firmly engaged of course) at 6.

Saturday is much the same schedule throughout the day, followed by an evening of Indian devotional music, featuring the extremely talented and sublime Naren Schreiner on harmonium and vocals and the amazing Janzel on tablas. These guys are superb musicians not to be missed. Naren will talk a bit about the Yoga of Music and play some traditional Indian ragas and bhajans as well as lead some kirtan. The party ends on Sunday with not one, but two panel discussions. The thinking is that by this point every one will be sick of practicing asanas and just want to hang out and bask in each other’s presence for a while before scattering to the four directions. Hope you can make it cause it’ll be great.

Tuesday, February 19th

Today I am celebrating my Solar Return, the day the Sun sits at the same position it occupied at birth. My actual date of birth is February 20th, 1951, but due to a phenomenon known as the “precession of the Equinox”, there has been a backward shift in the Zodiac of almost 1 degree over the past 62 years. Over a period of 25,000 years the Zodiac makes a full circle of 360 degrees, spending around 2100 years in each of the 12 signs. This precession accounts for the discrepancy between the Tropical (western) zodiac and the Sidereal (eastern) zodiac of 24 degrees. To offer myself as an example, by the western system I was born with the Sun at 1 degree Pisces, while in the eastern system my Sun lies at 7 degrees Aquarius. According to the Tropical Zodiac I have the Sun, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and the North Node all in Pisces, so for many years I considered myself to be the most Piscean of all the fish—sensitive, emotional, romantic. Much to my dismay, when I had my first Vedic chart done I discovered that, all along I had been an Aquarius—cool, and emotionally detached on one level, but with a rebellious and humanitarian spirit that desires to contribute to the Healing and awakening of Humanity. It kind of all fits somehow. When I was younger I was much more the Pisces archetype—dreamy and moody and romantic, but at this stage of life it is a lot about the work.

Based on the Sidereal Zodiac, I have the Sun, Mars, Jupiter, and Rahu all in the sign of Aquarius, known as “Kumbha” in Sanskrit. Kumbha means a pitcher or water pot. The symbol for Aquarius is a pitcher pouring water out of the heavens. This water represents the cosmic life force that heals, but also brings disruption and change. Aquarius seeks to demolish the old paradigm that has become too stagnant, self indulgent, and materialistic; to radically transform, purify, and stimulate a new spiritual direction. The kumbha represents the body and individualized consciousness. It must release the water, the life force contained within it, in order to merge with the cosmic, or universal energy. Critical to the release of the waters of life for the Aquarian is finding some kind of service-oriented work that seeks to uplift humanity in some way. This is what keeps the juices flowing and prevents one from becoming isolated, ineffectual, and depressed. The down side is to sometimes go overboard in the service to others mentality, which can be detrimental to one’s own physical or emotional well being. The challenge is to balance one’s identification with the pot (the body) and the water flowing out of the pot (service).

Tomorrow, February 20th, is my actual birthday. The gift the Universe is giving me is a conjunction of the Sun and Neptune at 11:19pm PST at 3 degrees Pisces by western reckoning and 9 degrees Aquarius by eastern. The specific Nakshatra (asterism) for this conjunction is called Shatabhisha, “one hundred physicians”. The ruling deity of Shatabhisha is Varuna, the “Lord of the Waters” and “Bestower of Wisdom”, who is the Indian equivalent of Neptune. Varuna holds a pot of Soma, the heavenly ambrosia that rejuvenates and intoxicates. Varuna also holds a bundle of healing herbs which symbolize the energy of Shatabhisha, called bheshaja shakti—the power to heal. It is a perfect place in the heavens for this grand meeting between the Sun and Neptune. One of the gifts of this conjunction is compassion, another is an increased awareness of the spiritual dimension of life. The down side of this conjunction is a tendency towards escapism, a desire to drink a bit too much Soma. It’s a good day for meditation or devotional practices if feeling a need to withdraw due to heightened sensitivity to the emotions of others.

Tuesday, February 12th

We have quite a lineup of events this week, starting with Fat Tuesday today, Ash Wednesday tomorrow, and St. Valentine’s Day on Thursday (not to mention President’s Day next Monday!). Fat Tuesday, or Mardi Gras, marks the end of Carnival, a season that begins on the Feast of the Epiphany—a time of merry making and role playing, parties, masked balls, enormous and festive meals with plenty of meat, wine, sweets, and fatty food. Fat Tuesday is the last hurrah of Carnival. Our responsibility on this day is to be as gluttonous as possible, eat up the rest of the meat, drink the wine, and make desserts to use up the rest of the rich foodstuffs before the beginning of Lent. Carnival probably owes its origins to the Roman festivals of Saturnalia and Bacchanalia, and perhaps to the older Greek festival of Dionysia. After tonight the fun is over for a while with Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent tomorrow. Lent continues until Holy Thursday on March 28th. Traditionally during Lent, no parties or celebrations were held and people refrained from eating rich foods, including meat, dairy products, fats and sugars. The 40 days of Lent commemorate the 40 days that Jesus spent in the wilderness, fasting and being tested by Satan. It marks a time of purification, self-denial, and turning inward to prepare for a spiritual rebirth on Easter Sunday. Although I never observed Lent growing up with my family, I have been fascinated by it since I started practicing yoga and every year make a point to give up something during that time that I have great attachment to, but at the same time recognize as something that doesn’t really serve me. It is an exercise in self-discipline. My experience is that when I practice good self-discipline, I feel better about myself. It’s a simple concept: self-discipline builds self-esteem.

In yoga terminology, self-discipline is known as “Tapas” which means to burn or heat. In sutra II.42 Patanjali says, “Kaya indriya siddhi ashuddhi kshayat tapasah”—The fire of self-discipline removes impurities and brings mastery to the body and the sense organs. Tapas is sometimes translated as austerity or mortification, which suggests suffering and self denial and a basic attitude that the Body is the enemy of the Spirit. The sutra talks about bringing mastery to the body and the sense organs. This could be interpreted as a state of physical and sensory detachment. Like Shiva seated in Meditation on Mt. Kailas, or the more tantric perspective of Shiva in Divine Union with Shakti. Shiva represents Consciousness and Shakti represents Energy as it playfully unfolds into the manifest Universe. One manifestation of Shakti is our physical body (kaya), and another is our sense organs (indriyas). In the tantric way of looking at things both Shiva and Shakti are Divine, so the body is also Divine, truly the “temple of the Spirit.” With tapas we clean our bodily temple and quite literally “come to our senses” by cleansing the windows of perception to cultivate “viveka”, or discernment. Purifying the body and the senses facilitates a state called Saucha, or cleanliness. In sutra II.41 Patanjali says “Sattwa suddhi saumanasya ekagrya indriya jaya atma darshana yogyatvani cha”--Harmony, cheerfulness, one-pointedness, mastery of the senses, and a glimpse of the Soul are the fruits of Saucha. The challenge during a time of intensive self-discipline is to maintain a loving relationship with the body and senses. That brings up the subject of Valentine’s Day. Maybe this year we could celebrate Valentine’s Day with a Valentine to ourselves as well as to our Beloved, which brings up the question, “Will I still love myself if I give up chocolate for Lent?”

Tuesday February 5th

Last Thursday I was sitting in my room in Tulum looking out at the ocean. It was a stormy day with lots of ominous rainclouds and whitecaps. I found myself feeling melancholy and nostalgic, thinking of my dear friend Rich McGowan back in Encinitas, dying of cancer. For several minutes I felt Rich’s presence very strongly, as if he were sitting beside me and we were sharing a last bittersweet moment together before he said goodbye. When I arrived home from Mexico Saturday evening I was not surprised to hear that Rich had passed away earlier in the day. Even though all of us who were close to Rich knew it was coming, it still felt like a sledgehammer to my heart.

For over a decade Rich was an integral part of the Ashtanga Yoga Center—co-teaching with me in Mysore classes, leading his own classes, assisting me in teacher trainings and workshops, and playing the dumbek when we sang the Hanuman Chalisa. He was always dependable, consistent, loyal, humble, and generous. Over the years some students have asked me to give them a spiritual name, perhaps hoping that it would help to unlock some inner potential. Rich never asked me for a spiritual name—he would never do something so self-serving—but I gave him one anyway because I thought he deserved it. The name I gave Rich is Lakshmana, the name of Rama’s devoted brother in The Ramayana. As Rama is about to enter the forest for his 14 years of exile, Lakshmana says to him, “You must take me with you. I will carry your weapons and clear your path before you. I will gather fruit and hunt for you, while Sita and you walk together on the mountain slopes.” Rich fully embraced Lakshmana and Hanuman’s example of selfless service. For Rich it was always, “What can I do to help?” and never, “What’s in it for me?” He was always happy to be my right hand man, the second banana whose ego never got in the way of doing his job. On the surface Rich was the archetypal surfer dude—tanned, laid-back, with a warm, friendly, down to earth manner. Underneath this exterior shone a heart of gold and a soul of rare sincerity and purity. Everyone loved Rich for his sweetness and gentleness, his easy smile and his twinkling blue eyes. He had a gift for making people feel comfortable in his presence. Just today one of my students said to me, “For the first six months I came to class you wouldn’t even look at me, but Rich always knew when I needed help and was there for me.” Another student shared today a piece of wisdom she received from Rich, “Never stop having fun.” Surfing, playing beach volleyball, drumming, teaching and practicing yoga, and making friends were some of the fun things Rich liked to do.

As Rich’s illness progressed he was gradually forced to give up many of the things he loved. He kept fighting till the end though, and even as late as last summer showed up every day to assist me in the teacher training and repaint the yoga studio. As long as he still had enough strength in his body, Rich was still being of service—teaching yoga to kids with cancer at Children’s Hospital, assisting in yoga classes at the YMCA, helping me as much as he was able to. During the last few months of his life, Rich’s illness progressed rapidly and he finally had no choice but to surrender to it. It was devastating for all of us who were close to Rich to watch our strong, beloved brother being taken away from us. The last time I visited him he was still upbeat, talking about watching the whales, dolphins, and surfers from his window. In The Ramayana during Rama’s battle in Lanka with Ravana, the demon king, Lakshmana has been gravely wounded and lies close to death on the battlefield. Rama kneels beside him and says, “If my brother dies, I care not if I win or lose the war. I do not desire the kingdom or even my life. I seem to have lost the desire to even rescue Sita. A wife like her may perhaps be found, but I will never find another like Lakshmana.”

Rest in peace dear brother. Know that you touched many lives in a good way and you will always be loved and remembered as the embodiment of a true yogi.

Tuesday, January 29th

Hola from Tulum, Mexico. Just coming to the end of day three of the week-long course I am teaching here. I have a wonderful group of students from all over that I am subjecting to seven hours of class time per day, attempting to teach them as much about the Primary Series, the Yoga Sutras, basic anatomy, pranayama, and Indian Mythology as I can in a week, with a bit of Vedic astrology and kirtan thrown in just for fun. They are remarkably enthusiastic and energetic, soaking up everything like sponges. It makes for a pretty full day with seven hours of teaching, maybe an hour of practice, some time in the ocean, a few chapters of Jo Nesbo’s The Leopard, a short nap, and some family time. We have a lovely palapa right on the ocean with a thatched palm frond roof that was tested last night by some brief but heavy rainfall. I awoke at 2;30am to water dripping from the ceiling onto to my bed, right next to my face. Fortunately I was able to move to a comfortable couch in a drier locale for the remainder of the night. Such minor inconveniences as leaks, crabs and geckos in your room or an occasional iguana in the yoga shala are a small price to pay for the pleasure of living so close to nature. All things considered, it is a very pleasant working environment. It’s great to see people working hard and learning new things, but at the same time, bonding well as a group, relaxing, and having a good time. There are no televisions or newspapers here so I am blissfully ignorant of the goings on in the outside world. Occasionally I catch a bit of news from the outside world—the most stunning news being that the Lakers have won a couple of games in my absence.

The big news in the astrological world is that the planetary giant, Jupiter turns direct tomorrow after traveling in retrograde motion for the last four and a half months. Jupiter represents Spirit embracing Matter to provide us with nourishment, expansion, and spiritual transformation. In the Vedas Jupiter is called Brihaspati, who is the guru of the devas (the gods). He is primarily thought of as a teacher who is very sympathetic and benefic to humankind, and guides us on the path of Dharma, while providing the necessary conditions and affluence to provide for our fulfillment and contentment. Jupiter rewards us for our good karma with opportunities and success for both our physical well being and our spiritual growth.

I’ll be flying home on Saturday, which, of course, is Groundhog Day. Every Groundhog Day you can be sure that the movie of the same name will be showing on television at some time during the day. On one level this film is an amusing comedy with a nice performance by Bill Murray, but on another level it is a profound meditation on the subject of Samsara (the cycle of repetitive experience) , and a brilliant teaching of how one can extricate oneself from the prison of conditioned existence and achieve enlightenment. I plan to watch it again.

Tuesday, January 22nd

As I recall, last week I was complaining about a lot of things—the “artic winter” of Encinitas, the defective heater in the yoga studio, respiratory distress, my injured shoulder, and “vata derangement”. I apologize for being such a whiner--perhaps I was suffering from SAD (seasonal affective disorder). Sometimes when my wife is complaining about things that seem relatively insignificant to me, I say to her, “You need to get some real problems”—thinking of all the people in the world who don’t have enough food or a place to live, or who are suffering from some horrible and painful disease, etc. It’s never what she wants to hear and I always regret saying it, but sometimes I can’t help myself. Now it’s payback time so I am saying it to myself, “You need to get some real problems!”

The days are getting longer and warmer, my cold is gone, the shoulder is better, the heating guy finally showed up today, and I’m on my way to the “Mayan Riviera” on Friday. Things are definitely on the upswing. An added bonus is the full moon on Saturday in the nakshatra called Pushya—“The Nourisher.” Pushya lies within the constellation of Cancer, where the Moon is “exalted”. The Moon is associated with the Mother, and within the lunar mansion of Pushya it finds its most nurturing expression. One of the symbols for Pushya is a flower, symbolizing the blossoming of latent faculties. Another common symbol for this nakshatra is the udder of a cow, representing the giving and nourishing aspect of the Divine Mother—the “milk of human kindness.” Pushya magically transports us back to the state in our infancy when we are safely nestled in our mother’s arms. This is the most loved and benign of all the 27 nakshatras. The energy of Pushya is described as “brahmavarchasa shakti”—the power to harness the creative powers of Brahma. It is a very auspicious time for undertaking all new activities--in the realm of material, emotional, or spiritual development.

Looming on the horizon is the “Ashtanga Yoga Confluence” of 2013, February 28th-March 3rd. Last year’s confluence sold out within weeks and we ended up with a waiting list of 500 people. This year, inexplicably, with the confluence just five weeks away, there is still space in the event! For 2013 we have added a couple of my dear friends to the dynamic mix of great teachers—Dena Kingsberg and Dominic Corigliano. Dena is an inspiring practitioner and teacher who I first met in Mysore in 1992. We have cultivated a strong friendship during many subsequent trips. She brings the no nonsense sensibility of a strong, self-reliant woman who lives off the grid, in the “Bush” Down Under. Dominic and I go back over 30 years. We were even roommates for a short time in the early nineties when we were between marriages, and my old house on La Veta Avenue became a temporary “sanctuary for men in mid-life crisis.” Together, we were able to make it through that challenging time of our lives and eventually both of us remarried and began second families in our 50’s. In fact, Dominic was my best man when I married Carol in 1996. He lived in Encinitas for over 20 years and began to hone his craft as a yoga teacher through many years of teaching at the Ashtanga Yoga Center and at Frog’s athletic club. During the last decade of Guruji’s life, Dom spent a lot of time with him, both in Mysore and traveling throughout the world, documenting his teaching on film and learning through his example. Dominic is an extremely intelligent individual with a curious and penetrating intellect. He will be the moderator for the panel discussions this year at the Confluence and I’m sure he will keep things lively and interesting.

Tuesday January 15th

One of the most important things that the practice of yoga tries to teach us is to recognize what is true and acknowledge it, to embrace the path of Satya—both speaking and living in adherence to the Truth. Okay, the truth is, I’ve never been a big fan of Winter. I recognize that Winter is not only inevitable, but also useful in providing us with perspective in the unfolding of the year ahead. I’ve tried skiing and snowboarding a few times—last time out I sprained my MCL—but I’ve never been a big fan of winter sports. I like to be warm and cozy more and more with each passing year. Winter is the most vata time of the year—cold and dry—and as I get older, like most people, my constitution gets more vata as well. The joints get creaky and it’s more difficult to get the body warm enough to get a good sweat going. To compound the issue, we’ve been having heating problems at the yoga studio. Apparently we need a new compressor. The heating guy said, “Imagine a car with a V-8 engine running on only two cylinders. That’s your heater.” Recently, the nights in Encinitas have been cold (in the 30’s), so last night after class I set the thermostat for 75 degrees, thinking that even with only two cylinders, the heater was still producing some warmth. This morning when I came in at 6am the thermostat said 65 degrees and I figured even those last two cylinders had stopped working. I went home and picked up a couple of small space heaters to put in the studio because I just don’t like practicing in a room that’s less than 70 degrees. It makes me feel like a bit of a wuss when I think about those yogis in the Himalayas who sit in the snow naked and are capable of generating enough internal heat to dry wet sheets that are wrapped around them. That was something that Guruji never taught me! Anyway, we ordered a new generator, but it’ll take a week to get here. To add insult to injury I hurt my shoulder body surfing in Maui last month and I’ve had a cold for the past week. Both things together have conspired to make practice difficult and painful. The cold now seems to be on its way out--just a little residual respiratory stuff—but it has definitely sapped my energy and made me even lazier than usual for the past week. I’ve used it as an excuse to spend a prodigious amount of time lying in the sun and rereading a trilogy of books by one of my favorite authors, Carlos Ruiz Zafon, who writes of Barcelona during the 1930s through 1950s. in the style of the great gothic novels of Charles Dickens and Alexander Dumas. The Shadow of the Wind, the first book in the series, is one of my favorite novels of all time. The other books are great too—filled with humanity, romance, suffering, and mystery. They are books for people like me who love books. Each one contains a visit to a mysterious and secret sanctuary called “The Cemetery of Forgotten Books”. My wife tells me that our library is beginning to look like a “Cemetery of Forgotten Books”, saying, “We’re running out of room. If you’re going to keep buying new books you’re going to have to start giving some away.” When a person visits the “Cemetery of Forgotten Books” for the first time, they get to leave with a book of their choice. My wife wants to start this policy at our house.

I’m thinking now that the worst of Winter is over. I’ve paid for my sins of excess over the holidays with my cold, the heater is getting fixed and my massage guy, Allan, did some great work on my shoulder today. In 10 days I’m headed for Tulum, Mexico, for a week- long yoga retreat. There will be warm days and nights, 78 degree Caribbean water to swim in, no shoes for a week and endless white sand beaches to walk on, Mayan ruins, cenotes , magnificent night-time skies, great food, and friendly people. I’m definitely ready.

Tuesday January 8th

This past Sunday was the 35th anniversary of my first yoga class at the old “Yoga Church”, half a block from my house on La Veta Avenue in Encinitas. I had been walking by the Church the day before and stopped to find out the schedule from a guy working in the garden who introduced himself as Nate. Nate said, “In two months you can be as limber as a gymnast.” Intrigued by the promise of Gumby-like flexibility I showed up for class the next day at 5pm, ready to do some painful and exotic stretching. The stretching did turn out to be very exotic, but not particularly painful. The intelligent progression of the practice and precise integration of breath and movement was like magic for my body, mind, and soul. My body felt like it had come back to life--some kind of natural intelligence had been awakened in it. My mind became very quiet, attentive and receptive. Best of all was feeling reconnected to my own soul—that peaceful, wise, and loving presence within that felt like home. It was a profound and life-changing experience, providing me with a much-needed path to navigate through the jungle of human existence that I had been very lost in. Over the past 35 years, the practice has rewarded me with many blessings of both a personal and professional nature. Never was there anyone who needed yoga as much as me. I was a walking advertisement for “Unfulfilled Potential”—depressed, lethargic, toxic, and lacking in self-esteem. Not one date in the 15 months I had lived in Encinitas. It was like I had a big sign on my forehead that said “Loser”. I was pathetic. Then, in the space of an hour and a half, everything changed for me--my life did a 180-degree turn and everything began to unfold in a magical way. I started feeling healthy and, trusting the intelligence of my body, I radically changed my diet and personal habits as a way of facilitating my detoxification. With my new- found self-discipline I began to feel much better about myself and began to attract good things into my life—like women! Suddenly I had lots of dates. Obviously there was some alchemy at work that was affecting my life on every level. I began delving into spiritual texts again after a long hiatus. It seemed that I was tapping into some great Universal Intelligence that was redirecting my life in the most positive of ways. Life was fun, exciting, and new for the first time since I was a kid.

When I think back on this time I get a little wistful, remembering all the amazing growth, self- discovery, and joy provided by the practice. At this time of year, I find myself wanting to find that kind of magic in the practice again. Is this possible after 35 years? Physically, of course, I am no longer 26 and find myself sometimes gravitating towards an “Ashtanga for Seniors” program to address my specific needs, but, I’m not sure there is much magic in that. I must admit that I feel the best when I am able to muster a strong practice. To celebrate my anniversary on Sunday I practiced the Second Series (which I do every Sunday). My body is not as flexible as it once was, or as strong or thin, and I find I have a few more aches and pains as I approach 62, but I do my best and the practice still leaves me in a magical place of peace and clarity. There is no denying the physical reality of aging, but at the same time there is a considerable mental component to it all. I’m finding that 61 is not that much different from 51 (although it is pretty different from 26). If I can continue to take good care of myself, stay active, not get too fat, and think young, I hope to squeeze in another 35 years of practice. When I first met Pattabhi Jois in 1978 he had just turned 63 and seemed remarkable youthful. As it turned out for him, he was just getting warmed up.

Tuesday, January 1st

The New Year always begins with such promise. Inevitably we find ourselves making new years’ resolutions—to lose those extra kilos we gained over the holidays and stick to a healthier diet, to get to yoga class more often, to be more organized and productive, to act with greater understanding, compassion and forgiveness, to spend more time with our families, to be more selfless and loving, to answer our emails more promptly, etc. There is always a long list of things in our lives that could use some improvement, and it is good to recognize those things and commit to a new sense of purpose. The true test is always how we respond to ourselves when we aren’t able to live up to our own expectations. Do we succumb to guilt and self-recrimination, do we cut ourselves too much slack, or do we find some sort of balance between self-discipline and self-esteem by acknowledging our efforts at self-improvement while, at that same time, recognizing that our imperfections are part of what makes us human and unique.

For Christmas I received a couple of gift cards for Barnes and Noble so I bought myself a new book yesterday, Far from the Tree by Andrew Solomon. My wife asked me what the book was about. I told her it was about being a better parent, thinking that would make her happy. Her response was, “Did you finish the book about being a better husband?” “Not yet,” I admitted. That’s one of the problems with self-improvement—other people are always putting in their two cents worth! Far from the Tree begins with the statement that, in regards to having babies, there is no such thing as reproduction, only production—that as much as we might want our children to be an extension of ourselves, they have their own agendas, and often these agendas are difficult for parents to accept or make peace with. Solomon uses himself as an example--growing up gay in a loving and liberal family, but still left with the indelible impression that his parents would have strongly wanted him to be straight, could they have made the choice, because it would save him from a lot of suffering. The author interviews hundreds of parents whose children are “different”—kids who are gay, deaf, autistic, schizophrenic, sociopaths, blind, kids with Down’s syndrome and dwarfism, etc. The challenges of caring for a challenging child are monumental, but, in many cases, produce profoundly positive results. He explores the themes of generosity, tolerance, and acceptance and gives ample evidence to support the notion that love can overcome any prejudice. While trying to come to grips with being gay as a young man, Solomon came across a quote from Jesus in the Gnostic Gospel of St. Thomas, “If you bring forth what is within you, what is within you will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what is within you will destroy you.”

At the deepest level within all of us is Light and Love. There is nothing that we desire more than to allow these qualities to come forth. If they are not expressed, we suffer, and those around us suffer as well. We all struggle to some extent with loving ourselves as a result of all of the conditioning we have assimilated from our ancestors, parents, peers, and culture. It’s easy to focus on the negative. There is certainly plenty of negativity surrounding us. If we succumb to it, however, we add to the collective weight of it. In our lives, we tend to allow ourselves to receive as much as we think we deserve. Sometimes that’s not very much. I have a simple idea for a new year’s resolution—to love ourselves, to treat ourselves compassionately when we are in pain, to forgive ourselves when we make mistakes, and to accept the gift of humility that comes from embracing our flawed humanity.

Tuesday, December 25th

Like many Americans I am a bit of a workaholic. I could try blaming that on my slave- driving employer, but I’m self-employed. Thankfully, I enjoy my work and normally derive a lot of joy and satisfaction from it. Sometime around mid-November this year, however, I really began to feel burned out. I shared those sentiments with my wife. Knowing that I am usually among the most stoic of individuals and rarely complain, she listened and replied, “You’re right, you need a break.” The next day she booked me a ticket to Maui for a week of rest and relaxation, with a return date eight days before Christmas. It was just what the doctor ordered—a week of sleeping-in, body surfing and snorkeling, a little yoga, and lots of time to visit with old friends.

During the week in Maui, Christmas was the last thing on my mind. Being on a tropical island and not surrounded by the usual Christmas trappings, I wasn’t exactly thinking about sleigh rides and chestnuts roasting on an open fire. With my return to California, a hint of a winter chill, the full bore holiday hype, and the sudden realization that I hadn’t even begun my Christmas shopping, I needed to shift gears quickly. Oddly enough, it was Christmas shopping that began to get me into the spirit of the season—focusing on finding thoughtful gifts for loved ones began to fan that small ember of the joy of giving that apparently still burns in my heart. Something else that traditionally helps to get me into the Christmas spirit is watching one of the classic holiday films like “It’s a Wonderful Life” or “Miracle on 34th Street.” Last year when we were watching “It’s a Wonderful Life,” my daughter said, “This is supposed to be uplifting?” I had to admit that most of the movie is pretty dark, but if you can hang in for the ending you’ll get the feel good finale. The film that did it for me this year was “Bad Santa,” with Billy Bob Thornton giving a memorable performance as a drunken, foul mouthed, thieving, and utterly despicable department store Santa who finds an unlikely savior in a chubby, clueless kid who eventually wins him over with his relentless innocence and faith. It’s another one of those films that you have to hang with until the end to get the dose of Christmas cheer.

When I asked my wife what she wanted for Christmas this year, she said “I want to have a Jewish Christmas this year—a movie and Chinese food.” She explained that what she really wanted was a Christmas Day free of any obligations, so we arranged for everyone to come to our house for Christmas Eve dinner. Carol worked for two days solid preparing food and was so focused on the task at hand that I barely ventured into the kitchen or attempted to converse with her. The result was a sumptuous feast, greatly enjoyed by all, except my daughter-in-law Jamie, who had the stomach flu. I was hoping to regale the family with some Christmas carols on the piano while they opened presents after dinner, but have only managed to master one at this point—“What Child is This?” (to the tune of “Greensleeves”)—so I didn’t bother. This morning was very relaxed, everyone slept in and then we opened the last of the presents. My wife is determined that I don’t look like a dork, so she bought me some new clothes. To encourage my daughter to spend more time outside and get some exercise, I got her a new mountain bike, not knowing how such a gift would be received. This afternoon we took a ride together, and, based on the expression on her face, I think I made a good choice. Merry Christmas everyone!