I’ve been listening to this recording of Chapter 26 of the Ribhu Gita at least once a day. Sometimes I listen to it while I’m sitting in meditation and other times I listen to it while I’m walking around the house cleaning up, cooking, whatever. Apparently it was a favorite of Ramana Maharshi.

The woman who reads the text has a beautiful voice, and the combination of her reading style and the background music help to induce, in me, an inward flowing current of mind. Her other recordings are also great and include everything from classic Zen to Taoist to mystical Christian texts.

Baby Nana’s eating chives from the garden. That’s a diaper I’m going to have to deal with in the morning. Or maybe not.

Today B, who is 3 1/2, slowly took over my yoga space and turned it into a stuffed animal hospital. It was impressive. She had stuffies bedded down in the hammock, on the couch in the office area, and on various yoga mats on the floor. There was a stuffy nurse and a supply of makeshift medical implements. There were even animals in the bathroom with their booboos wrapped up in towels and toilet paper. At least a roll of scotch tape was used for bandaids, and for some reason, the hospital also had a hair salon, which meant there was stuffy fluff all over the floor.

I thought about fighting this as it unfolded, but instead I retreated to the yard to do some yoga asana in the grass followed by some seated meditation. As my mind wandered during meditation, I thought maybe I’d take a couple photos of the animal hospital and post about how I traded the mess and solo cleanup I’d have to do later for the practice time.

But it didn’t work out that way. Instead, everyone pitched in after dinner and helped with the clean up. There may have been some threats of no ice cream involved, but it was fairly painless, and B got so into it that she ended up mopping the floor of her own volition.

In the end, the shorn but healed stuffies made it (mostly) back into the bin, and for the ten millionth time, things didn’t turn out the way I expected.

The studio is ready again for some online teaching tomorrow, but who knows what will happen between now and then? At times this quarantine (for those of us fortunate enough to be stable and safe) feels so monotonous, I know, but at the moment by moment level, everything is still totally alive and changing. Not just the updates on the virus and public health measures, but in the kosmos all around us, which includes the hearts and minds of everyone.

Can it all become part of our ongoing meditation? Maybe if we become witnesses to the granular experience of our lives, more and more of our moments will collapse into gateways to eternity. Maybe we can even catch a glimpse in a dirty diaper from a baby who ate chives from the garden.

Hang in there. If you want to join me for live yoga tomorrow, Friday, at 10 am central, here is the link:

https://m.facebook.com/ahimsafamily/

There’s no charge. If you can’t catch it live, it will be archived on the page along with other classes from me and my fellow teachers at Ahimsa. ✊❤️🙏🕉

Here’s a link to my latest yoga video. Moderate vinyasa with no weight bearing on the hands. Might be “handy” for those with bum wrists.

Here’s the solution:

Set up your mat near the play area. Put on some Raffi. Do a dance party as your warm up. When you get a chance, do downward facing dog for ten breaths. On breath eight, your kid will hit you in the back of the head with a toy camera. You’ll see stars. These are the visions of more and more light mentioned in the Shvetashvatara Upanishad. You are on your way to Brahman.

Flip over. Pick your kid up with your feet. Airplane *is* supine dandasana! Partner yoga! Maybe your kid will become a great sage due to your influence. Lower your child. Come into child’s pose, extend your arms, pop up on your fingertips to activate your shoulders. Feel your child playing with your hair. Feel your child yank your hair. Yell, “F*%k!” Yell it ten more times. Yell it with every fiber of your being. Now you have done your chanting.

Head to the laundry room with your child. Lower into a deep squat as you load the washer. Take ten breaths. As you prepare for crow pose, notice you’ve left the baby gate open. Your child is on the steps with a screwdriver in each hand. Realize you are a terrible parent, probably the worst there’s ever been.

Grab a strap. The strap of the high chair. Fix your child to the high chair with the strap. There are whole apples right there in the basket and applesauce in the fridge but give your child a pouch. Make macaroni and cheese. Out of the box. For the seventh day in a row.

As you stir the macaroni, realize that these thoughts of failing as a parent and a yogi are klishta vrittis, not helpful to your practice. You need, as Patanjali puts it, to still the modifications of the mind. Stand in tree pose to build dharana, concentration, as you stir the pot. Eat the macaroni and cheese with your child as a way to develop an attitude of non attachment to your diet.

Dig out a toy from the bottom of the toy chest, one your kid hasn’t seen in awhile. Your child is joyful. You are a karma yogi, doing service to all beings. With your child occupied, practice handstand at the wall. See that your practice is not a total joke. Who knows? In a few weeks, you might be doing karandavasana like that guy you saw on YouTube while you were eating your mac and cheese. Here it comes, by the way. Your mac and cheese.

Practice Vamana, therapeutic vomiting, to pacify aggravated kapha dosha. When you are finished, pull your child out of the catbox. Make sure to do this on both sides. Put your child in bed. When your child gets out of bed, repeat. Do this ten more times to stabilize the core. Lie down next to your child and enter savasana. Set an intention to remain aware. If your body falls asleep, practice meditation in your dream body. You can do it because you are a yogi.