On Being Whole

I've had the privilege to be invited to come to tomorrow's YogaImmersion session on the Subtle Body in Yoga, and talk with Sharon'sstudents about the 5 pranavayus in Yoga. Big topic. Like most "topics"in yoga history and scholarship, it has a multitude of threads that cantake you in about a thousand directions. And there is very little chanceI will do more than scratch the surface, but it's a topic dear to myheart and it gives me an opportunity to revisit, in various texts andnotes, this complex system. I don't have the skills to present asatisfactory digest of the whole subject here, but I will share thiswith you: like most topical nuggets in yoga, whether you are talkingabout yoga postures, pranayama, meditation, or the more subtle offeringsof connection with divinity and transcendent experiences of the self,it is about wholeness, equilibrium and balance. The pranavayus functionas a kind of whole system map that subtly guide and inform ourexperiences of being in a physical body, and ultimately, ofunderstanding the true boundarylessness of our physical bodies—ourpervasive connection with one another, and finally, our experience ofleaving the physical body when we die. And it is the experience of deathitself that I have been pondering the last few days. A dear friend ofours died a couple of weeks ago. He was 93. It was not unexpected, andhe died after demonstrating a most extraordinary capacity to live well,for many years past a time most of us expect to "live well." His wifewas Greg's mentor when he was studying at the School of the ArtInstitute of Chicago decades ago, and continued to mentor him longafter. But it was Jim who in the most loving, gentle and humble wayimaginable, acted as a sort of second father to Greg, providing guidancewhen he needed it most, and especially after Greg's own father died. Athis memorial service yesterday at Kendall, it gave me such pleasure tohear the endless stories from his friends at Kendall, and the few likeus who knew him from before Kendall—stories that painted a picture of aman who had a fine mind, a generous heart, who loved life and wasactively learning up until he died, who gave himself to a community thathe loved and felt a part of, without thought of recognition or glory.Jim came from a very rough upbringing, ultimately became a respectedscholar of Chinese History and taught at Northwestern University fordecades. He and Sonia moved to Kendall a few years before we moved tothe Upper Valley, and Jim embraced this shift fully. By all accounts,though he loved being a professor, it was being at Kendall in his finalyears that allowed him to fulfill his lifelong desire to be of service,to feel emotionally connected to his community, and to shed theresponsibilities of being "learned" and instead, become a full learner.He wrote at least 2 books while at Kendall, became a very skilledphotographer of insects, and served on innumerable committees. It didn'tsurprise me to learn that he also more informally and regularly madehimself available to help many residents at Kendall. And all of thiswhile being sick in his body for most of the years he was there,maintaining a healthy sense of humor, and nurturing a loving andconscious connection with his wife of 68 years, Sonia. Towards the endJim became vapor-like in his physical body. His snowy white hair wasalmost luminscent. His still handsome face was worn and thin, but hiswarm, fiery eyes still poured out light and fierce intention. Jim was anadamant, self-proclaimed atheist, who fully lived the values of socialjustice and conscience that much of organized religion claims as itsown. He wasn't a perfect man, who among us could claim that? But as Istand in my own middle life looking back, looking forward, and as Icontemplate what it means to live a life of equilibrium, wholeness andbalance as understood through the lense of yoga and in particular the 5pranavayus, I close my eyes, remember Jim's warm laugh and fiercededication and love of life, and I feel the world open up, and my ownsense of self expanding in the direction of hope and wonder.