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Archive for October, 2009

Oct 26

Dunya at Princeton Univ

Several of you have asked about my guest teaching at Princeton.

My task was to present a taste of Sufism within the context of Dance and the Sacred. The professor, the illustrious Ze’eva Cohen, had, as preparation, given the students (but not me) a paper discussing the Whirling Dervishes. The over-arcing inquiry for the course that we most zeroed in on was Art vs. Ritual: is the whirling art or ritual or neither or both and why?  Ze’eva initiated some discussion, then turned the forum over to me; after a period, she played an excerpt of the Mevlana, then we all went into the studio where I taught  beathing and movement and then a 15 minute Whirling period. At then end, I conducted a short concluding discussion during which most everyone was a little zoned out, that being their first whirling.

Lecture segment:
- My first objective was to stress that Sufi is not a museum, that it is a living tradition, one which they would all be part of after being taught the Whirling by a living Sufi. The practices do not define the lineage. Practices are a pitcher holding the water of the lineage. This pitcher is handed person-to-person.
- I was able to help them experientially distinguish between art as a performance, crafted to carry a message (like Charades) and art ‘being witnessed’ (like seeing the Sufis whirl.) These are blunt examples but the ideas are key.
- I was intent on introducing the concept that whirling and other Sufi movement practices (as well as themes in Islamic art) are not so much symbolic/metaphorical in the western sense of ‘this is like that’ or ‘this is that’, but rather provide a ‘nexus of contemplation’, a phrase spoken by Barbara Brend of the British museum. Contemplation can be intellectual or physical, but the idea – ie whirling – forms an anchor for a blossoming of understanding over time. (I discuss this in my book, Skin of Glass.)
- Aside from this I gave context to Rumi within the history of Sufism and as well as a cursory sense of the relationship between Islamic and Sufism. I then read a few excerpts of Niffari and Rumi to demonstrate the pivotal role of translation in reading Sufi poetry.

Regarding my Facebook comment about the pleasure of teaching smart people:
Smart is a loose term, like love. It could mean many things: A smart person has high test scores; a smart person is who you agree with therefor you think they are smart. A smart person is quick to quip, or thinks deeper thoughts. Etc. What I meant by smart with the Princeton students was that they have enough self-confidence to explore their own ideas and experience. Not only did they think about what I was saying and engage in inquiry with me, but when given an experiential exercise (we did a short witness hand dance in the middle of the lecture portion), they were comfortable reflecting on their physical experience, bringing their bodies into the arena of inquiry. In all of this, no energy was wasted on self-consciousness and defensiveness. We moved forward smoothly.

Oct 26

Second Life, BBC News & Embodiment

I googled a friend’s avatar while the BBC World News, playing as a the soundtrack in the background, related yet another African genocidal mutilation story, and I had an odd rush of living in a performance art piece — two disembodied sources, one audio and one computer screen, focused on images and bodies. Meanwhile I sat in a comfy chair, drank tea, smelled the morning air, and breathed.

I wonder if now we truly live in something like the Victorian age before the advent of the car,  where ghost stories blossom. Of course our  current stories are realer than 150 years ago. Certainly they reach farther.
I  wonder if my struggle to stay embodied and or deepen my embodiment, regardless of how pleasant or not, is simply a directive, a ‘project,’ so-to-speak, and its own kind of performance art, and thus a project that can be put aside until a new one is taken up. (But then I would lose the life-long aspect of doing ‘aware embodiment’ until death, or until close enough to death to report the project back.)

Until now I have decided that embodiment is realer; that it is the route  to Truth; that, on earth, it is root of Truth. When I operate from this premise, I am the most cohesive. Why does it feel like this project is arcane? (Though I don’t mind being or feeling arcane.)

Oct 13

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10,000 Hours Rule

Is the word ‘genius’ overused? Is it real? What makes a genius? This was the topic on WNYC’s Soundcheck a little while back with guest, Daniel Coyle , author of The Talent Code. Coyle studied gifted musicians and places with concentrations of geniuses or highly accomplished musicians. Coyle brings up Malcolm Gladwells’ 10,000 Hours Rule. (from The Outliers) All highly successful people have one thing in common — they train in their field for 10,000. That is the threshold for success. Coyle extends Gladwell’s thesis noting that its not just 10,000 hours but, in the case of music, deep practice — that is, deeply concentrated, very slow practice. This produces great artists. It produced Mozart. In science, it produced Einstein.

Skill takes time. Knowledge takes time. Patient, deep, slow time. Undivided attention, full involvement. Current culture is screamingly fast and often Much Ado about nothing.  We’re highly connected over Zilch. This fosters the notion that speedy connectivity is in itself holy. And more of it all faster is better. A form of mental greed.

Dancemeditation is slow connectivity. Connecting. Very. Slowly.
We open our inner circuits slowly, connect our brains and bodies acutely and clearly, remove brain fuzz.  (At some point Teresa Hawkes, PhD-to-be is going to prove how this lets us write better, think better, move better with her neuroscience research.)
In practice, we cultivate interior connectivity –inner to outer space, time to inner and outer space, time to non-time.

The radio discussion also made me think about my Teacher Training Certification. I’ve been giving certificates after the completion of 480 hours of training– a long training in our current immediate gratification culture. But I know 480 hours won’t produce an accomplished teacher, or even successful one. It won’t produce deep understanding of the Dancemeditation work. It is a good a beginning. My reason for giving a certificate after 480 hours of training is for encouragement. Start with smaller goals. 10,000 hours is for those who really love the subject. If the 10, 000 hours is no burden, I know this person will be a wonderful teacher.

Oct 1

I’ll Never be Deep Again

I’ll Never be Deep Again is that worry about being too shallow to be spiritual — sort of the ‘headache’ of spiritual path. Common, but annoying.

I’ve had times of being Deep, immersed in  Truth and Knowing. So clear. I’m floating at the bottom of a crystal pool gazing up at the firmament light years above. Such peace and quiet. Such Beauty and Mystery. I am so Deep.

Then I get caught in day-to-day things– projects–and stop doing my practice, using a lot of energy in an unconscious way. I’m often way out of my body, banging around in my head. After a bout of this, I find myself wondering if I could ever be deep again.

I’m just about to rectify things by doing a practice when…

…standing on the brink, I try to decide if I can tuck in practice right now or should I just take care of that ‘whatever-it-is’ first, get it out of the way, so I can really relax into my Dancemeditation. Then, because I never get to my practice, disembodiment rolls under my clothes.
…or I do a practice and get only a flicker of ease.
Discouraged, I fear that I’m shallow. Oh dear! I’ll never be Deep Again.

The cure for this, I know, is to do practice 3 times a week for two weeks, 35-45 minutes each session, without the Depth Meter ticking. Go through the motions at first. Next session, use a little intention but don’t scare myself off. Soon Deep is there. Maybe not retreat deep, but the sort of peace I can count on.