I was reading again some parts of Moshe’s book that I had underlined, it connected me with so many things…i share a bit with you without previous preparation so I’m sorry if I say nonsense things...
« Recognition of one's worth is important at the beginning of self-improvement, but for any real improvement to be achieved, consideration of self will have to be relegated to second plan. Unless a stage is achieved in which consideration of self ceases to be the prime motivating force, any improvement achieved will never be sufficient to satisfy the individual. In fact, when a man grows and perfects himself, his existence focuses more and more on what he does and how he does it, while the importance of himself decreases.»
The art of dying to ourselves. Anyone who has ever loved or brought to light a masterpiece knows the feeling of letting a part of « themselves » behind, a joyful farewell. If you listen, honestly, all the time there’s a calling for space to life to come in, if you want, « come in » is just a pedagogical way of saying, once there’s real listening/space, there’s no more two, no separate thing and beauty is there like magic before your eyes.
To step on your yoga Mat, with honesty, in the surface is simultaneously an act of humbleness and bravery, but deeply you do it because you already feel that there’s nothing to loose. Sometimes I feel the yogi is like a Xaman welcoming all spirits to come to light (sorry for the xamanism specialists I don’t really know much about it and I might be saying whatever ), celebrating their beauty, letting them free to be, undoing with love the bounds that fear has created. All life expressions welcomed, all things shining, no place to say no. Sometimes I cry when i see so much beauty, I still don’t know why….but I just feel grateful…
…coming back to the subject…..it also makes me think about the act of « bowing » that is so present is some cultures but not at all in our culture….I bring then Barthes with his beautiful semiotics about it:
"Occidental impoliteness is based on a certain mythology of the " person ." Topologically, Western man is reputed to be double, composed of a social, factitious, false "outside" and of a personal, authentic « inside »… »
on the other side…..
« (bowing) politeness, by the scrupulosity of its codes, the distinct graphism of its gestures, and even when it seems to us exaggeratedly respectful (i.e., to our eyes, « humiliating ») because we read it, in our manner, according to a meta physics of the person-this politeness is a certain exercise of the void (as we might expect within a strong code but one signifying « nothing »). Two bodies bow very low before one another (arms, knees, head always remaining in a decreed place), according to subtly coded degrees of depth. Or again ( on an old image): in order to give a present, I bow down, virtually to the level of the floor, and to answer me, my partner does the same: one and the same low line, that of the ground, joins the giver, the recipient, and the stake of the protocol, a box which may well contain nothing-or virtually nothing; a graphic form (inscribed in the space of the room) is thereby given to the act of exchange, in which, by this form, is erased any greediness (the gift remains suspended between two disappearances). The salutation here can be withdrawn from any humiliation or any vanity, because it literally salutes no one; it is not the sign of a communication -closely watched, condescending and precautionary-between two autarchies, two personal empires (each ruling over its Ego, the little realm of which it hold:; the "key"); it is only the feature of a network of forms in which nothing is halted, knotted, profound. Who is saluting whom? Only such a question justifies the salutation, inclines it to the bow, the obeisance, and glorifies thereby not meaning but the inscription of meaning, and gives to a posture which we read as excessive the very reserve of a gesture from which any signified is inconceivably absent. The Form is Empty, says and repeats-a Buddhist aphorism. This is what is expressed, through a practice of forms (a word whose plastic meaning and worldly meaning are here indissociable), by the politeness of the salutation, the bowing of two bodies which inscribe but do not prostrate themselves. «
Well, i feel i could keep on with infinite connections, drifting like always, but let’s keep it for later…