Resting in the Immortal

 In last night's yoga class, our teacher re-introduced a posture that I am definitely not adept with. As she began to lay down on her mat to get into position, she mentioned that the posture is called the immortal one, and added that she did not know why. However, as soon as she laid on her side, and rested her head in the hand of her bent arm, I knew I was seeing the Reclining Buddha. I have not thought of this image of the resting Buddha in quite a while. I thought the statue I was seeing in my mind was probably Thai. An internet search this morning confirmed that, although statues appear in other countries as well. Some statues are quite elaborate, others profoundly simple. I am not going to try to include a photograph as I pirate too much as it is, but I do recommend wandering through the many images of the Reclining Buddha that are on the internet. 

This morning I learned that the statue portrays Buddha just before his physical death. He appears, of course, quite composed and relaxed. I confess I lack such composure when attempting this yoga position that includes laying on one side, resting the head in the palm of the hand, stretching out both legs, elevating one's top leg, and maybe gracefully reaching up and taking hold of one's big toe. I think I have returned to yoga much too late to master this move. However, such composure is worth pondering.

 

The Reclining Buddha also makes me think of Jesus sleeping in what was probably a pretty rickety first century Galillean fishing boat in the midst of a storm with panicking disciples hovering over him. I think of my own mind, so full of whirling concerns, memories, fantasies, and other bits of souvenirs that I have collected and stashed there during this lifetime. It is amazing that there is any room at all for Jesus and Buddha. However, they take up far less room than I do because they mainly reside in the vastness of the heart. Too often I forget to journey there.

 

 While I was walking back to the car last night after class, I realized that the daylight hours have grown shorter, and this morning does have a touch of coolness that reminds me of autumn. Also this morning I came across again the following quote that Diana Butler Bass recently included in her June 22nd post. I am grateful because her post also led me to a wonderful book entitled Awe, The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How It Can Change Your Life by UC Berkeley psychologist, Dacher Keltner.  The research is fascinating and encouraging. It seems we have been made for awe. It also seems that awe helps us clean up our psychic debris so we can once again gaze in wonder, delight, and gratitude. I think that maybe we really can return to the garden because in truth, we never really left it. We just forgot to look.        

 

Given all of life’s ambiguities and the reality of impermanence and suffering,
our existence is remarkable, wondrous.
It evokes awe and amazement.
We need to pay attention. Really pay attention.
Lest we become blind to the awe and wonder that fills our days.
 Marcus J. Borg  

      

        

 

image: San Leandro, from a few years ago,