by Zack Lodmer of Om Shalom Yoga in Los Angeles.

Been spending a lot of time with this guy these days. The 18-year-old me.

And the 20-year-old me. And the 30-year-old-me. And the 8-year old me. And last week’s me.

Not in the sense that I’m wading around in the shallow end of my own nostalgia. Not in the sense that I’m fixating on my many missteps. And not in the sense that I have regrets.

Here I am. I am here. Me. Today. Now.
But despite the trillions of blessings around me every day, it’s hard being me. With the complexity of this thing called being alive, sometimes it’s hard to process everything. Sometimes I feel stuck.

Those of us open to the message hear it often: “Be Present”. “Live in the Moment.” “Don’t worry about the past.” “Tomorrow is a mystery.” Yes….but……. Sometimes the best way of being “present” is taking a short stroll down memory lane. Not to fantasize about past experiences, but rather engaging in self-study so that we can better understand our current situation and acknowledge what part we have played in getting there. In yoga, we call it “Svadhyaya”. I know I can best understand my current situation for all that it is, without projection, without judgment, and without attachment, by understanding my development, my unconscious patterns. “Who” you are is a complex tapestry of “why” you came to be, “how” you were raised, “what” lights the fire inside your heart, and “when / where” this all took place. “Who” you are continues to unfold and take form in real time. On the daily.

In Judaism, the process of repentance–atoning to others when we hurt them–is called “Teshuva”. But the literal translation of the word means “Return.” What a concept! If I want to heal others, I must first return and heal myself. If I want to really love another, for exactly who that person is, I must return and first love myself.

Self-study is a natural way of returning to your true nature, which is Love. Self-study is the gateway drug to joyfulness.

Understand who you’ve been to understand who you are. Then just be you. You’re perfect. Here I am. I am here. Me. Today. Now.

#SelfStudy #IamHere #Me #Today #Now #Svadhyaya #Teshuva
​
==>Zack Lodmer regularly runs Om Shalom Yoga events in the Los Angeles region.

BY KEREN ELIEZAR 

kerenoryoga.wordpress.com

February 1st of 2014 coincides with Rosh Chodesh of Adar I. Adar I is the added month that balances the Jewish calendar on its solar-lunar cycle verifying that the appropriate months align with the correct seasons. It
precedes Adar II, the time of the joyous celebration of Purim. Together,
these two months mark an exceptional joyous time in the history of the
Jewish people.

Rosh Chodesh in general marks the emergence of a new moon. Although
both Yoga and Judaism are ancient traditions, the similarities between
Judaism and Yoga never cease to amaze me. As such, I recently learned
that in the Ashtanga practice, it is customary not to practice during “Yogi”
Rosh Chodesh – full and new moon days. The premise behind this
custom being that humans are also afected by the phases of the moon.
The gravitational energy exerted on earth because of the solar and lunar
cycles may cause us to feel less grounded during times of full and new
moons, when the energy is at its strongest. (http://
www.ashtangayogacenter.com/moon.html)

As stated, Judaism goes by a lunar-solar calendar. Our days start at
nightfall with the emergence of the stars and moon. Rosh Chodesh is the
beginning of a new month but also the beginning of a new moon. This
time is considered spiritually auspicious in nature (especially for women).
And although the Talmud states that women’s work was abstained from
on Rosh Chodesh, the beginning of the month remains a time to draw
closer to your spiritual practice rather than shy away from it as done in
the Ashtanga practice. The energy of the month ahead is refocused as a
time for prayer, thanks, and self-awareness.

Whether you choose to practice asanas or not during Rosh Chodesh, it is
an advantageous moment to refocus and ground yourself. Find time to
light a candle and say a special prayer. Give thanks for what you have and
what you have achieved. Create a heightened sense of self awareness and
spiritual awakening by reminding yourself to live deliberately and
consciously each day. This is the perfect time to re-connect to your
spiritual self for those that have been feeling disconnected lately.

One of my most memorable Rosh Chodesh moments was when friends
decided to hold an “amen” meal. Everyone brought a diferent type of
dish. Each friend led the rest of us in a bracha on their dish. We started
with “pri ha-gefen” and ended very untraditionally with “ha-motzei” (so
we wouldn’t rule out all the other blessings!). We covered the works –
fruit from the ground, fruit from the trees, grain, “shehakol”, and finally
“ha-motzei”. Each blessing was followed by a resounding “amen” before
trying the dish. After “ha-motzei”, we dug in to full size portions. The
individual attention to each bracha and accompanying food helped
refocus our intention – kavana – in prayer as well as elevate the
significance of Rosh Chodesh.

The energy of Rosh Chodesh serves as a re-awakening and re-stirring of
the spiritual soul. Jews have always capitalized on the unique capsulation
of time. Think of the new moon as a time when the energy of the new
month is being capsulated in one day. All the potential energy of the
month to come exists in this one moment – Rosh Chodesh. All the new
experiences, revelations, growth, and positive thought that will exist are
bound into this day just bursting to begin. Each time you recite the
special prayer for the new month on its first day, each time you say a
bracha over food that day and include the special insertion for the new
month, each time you spiritually connect on this day; think of this
potential energy of beautiful experiences that are yet to come.

Rosh Chodesh is an opportune moment to remind ourselves just what a
wonderful, energetic world we live in and how we should give thanks for
being a part of this world every day and every month. This opportune
moment is something both Yogic and Judaic practices can agree on. The
specific Rosh Chodesh of Adar I is the start of this joyous period in Judaic
history and for 2014 it also marks the promise of warmer days ahead.
The potential energy of Adar I should ignite your day and month with joy
and understanding, spiritual connection and renewed enthusiasm for
yogis and Jews alike.

Keren Eliezar is currently pursuing her yoga teacher certification. She
recently started a local program to help women find strength, spirituality,
and physical awareness through yoga and Judaism. She blogs regularly at kerenoryoga.wordpress.com.

By Ida Unger 

www.yogagardenstudios.com

It is the season of Teshuvah. Traditionally translated as repentance, the word literally means returning, as in returning to awareness of God, or returning to the essential self. In his important work on teshuvah, Rav Kook, a rabbi of the early 20th century and a vegetarian taught that the process of returning had three levels or aspects.

According to Rav Kook, the first level of teshuvah is based in natural law, or in yogic terms, the law of karma. Here we experience how what we give out is equal to what we get back. He further teaches that reality manifests for each person according to his or her own perspective. Once we realize this hidden aspect, there is a level of spiritual growth. We have ‘returned” to a degree.

The next level is the teshuvah of religion. People must be taught to broaden their consciousness and to aim high, to admit to sin and start anew. Every religion has a way to repent, to let go of past issues and to begin again. Our Jewish tradition offers this time of year as an ideal occasion for self- examination, release and goal setting. At this level, faith rooted in tradition creates a path of forgiveness of self, as well as others.

It is only after these first two levels of teshuvah are discovered and practiced that the highest level becomes accessible – the teshuvah of reason. Here we find a deep understanding of the holy. This level incorporates the previous two phases and in Rav Kook’s words “abounds in endless delight. It transforms all past sins into spiritual assets. From every error it derives noble lessons, and from every lowly fall it derives the inspiration for the climb to splendid heights. The is the type of teshuvah toward which all aspire, which must come and which is bound to come.” At this level, one sees the Divine light is all.

The yogic journey has parallel levels. We often come to yoga to heal pains, or to reduce stress. Here we experience cause and effect. We see that through our actions we can gain a new perspective, and this new perspective can shape our reality. We can go to class or do a practice and feel better. This is what Rav Kook called natural teshuvah.

Next we aspire to learn more – if yoga can heal my back, what else can it do? The initial empowerment leads to a greater vision of what is possible. This is the level of religion. What is known about this path? Who has walked it before? What did they learn? What truths can I learn from those who have gone before me? There is submission here. We acknowledge the limits of our own perceptions. It does mean that we must acknowledge our blind spots in order to act humbly but intelligently in the face of advice or direction.

The highest level happens when the seeker sees that all things are connected. Herein is the third level of teshuvah – seeing the holy in every moment, seeing the Divine Source as a partner. The level of serendipity, or divinely inspired coincidence raises to a peak and life is forever altered. For the yoga practitioner, this is manifested in the physical no longer being experienced as a barrier, but rather as something that can be realigned to allow the experience of the inner flow of energy. When this happens, the connection to All That Is becomes palpable.

Yoga is a physical guide to the same truths that Rav Kook sought to share. He redefined sin as not so much wrong doing as missing the mark, resorting to fear when love would better serve. We are given this part of our annual cycle to awaken us to our deepest selves. Teshuvah is a returning to self for a fine-tuning of our souls.

May your High Holy Days be filled with light, love and listening.
Taking It to the Mat

Practice the sun salutes, Sri Namaskar. Take notice of the cycle and how each round is similar, yet has its own dimension. As you “return” to each pose, what has released? What has awakened? Our lives cycle through the seasons, just as our consciousness cycles through the body, as we practice. As you bring awareness to your body, all aspects of self are awakened anew.

Stretch into yourself for the year 5766.

Namaste’ B’shalom,

Ida Unger, M. Ed. and Certified Iyengar Yoga Teacher can be reached at www.yogagardenstudios.com

See Judaism section for a listing of classes.
She grew up with a Yeshiva education and a love of Torah and spirituality. In the early 90’s her Jewish roots began to connect to her yogic wings, resulting in a deepening of both.

by Marcus J Freed 

www.bibliyoga.com

Do you ever find yourself rushing to yoga practice, annoyed at the
traffic jam or frustrated because you didn’t leave 10 minutes earlier?
Or mildly miffed with a partner because they didn’t do that thing
they’d absolutely promised to do? Or wishing, deep inside, that
somehow life’s latest little challenge could just be a little bit easier?
Perhaps it’s just me.

This week my thoughts turned to the image of a group of Jews
camped at the bottom of Mount Sinai waiting for their leader
Moses to come back down with the hard copy of the ten
commandments. They’ve already experienced the ultimate
moment of spiritual connection when God spoke the Decalogue
out loud, they’ve felt the moment of pure yoga – the connection
between the physical and the spiritual – but now they want a bit
more. They aren’t happy with waiting, they’ve got frustrated, they
want something more tangible, so they build a golden calf. Their
yoga practice has completely gone out of the metaphorical window.
It’s significant that Patanjali placed the topic of pranayama as the
fourth part of his eightfold yoga path in the Yoga Sutras.

Pranayama is the practice of breath control, the way that energy is
actively moved around the body and many subsequent yoga
teachers have gone on to explain how concentrating upon the
breath will allow us to calm our mind and become more connected
with the present moment.

We might read the story of the golden calf as a denial of the
present moment. The Jewish people had experienced a spiritual
high and they wanted more, they didn’t accept that the present
moment demanded their waiting for Moses to return and they built
an idol to satisfy their story of what should have been, rather than
accepting the moment as it was.

This pranayama/present moment idea goes one step further when
we look at one of the names God calls Himself in the Bible. When
Moses meets God at the burning bush, he asks how to describe
God to the Israelites. The simple-but-cryptic reply is ‘I will be what
I will be’ (Ex 3:13-14) and the Jewish yogi might interpret this
understanding of God as pure presence. The Divine Being,
however we choose to relate to Him/Her/It, is being expressed and
realised in every single moment, whether we like it or not. Our role
is not to be frustrated and become annoyed when things are not as
we would like, but to watch it from a place of calm non-judgement,
just as we do when discovering that our bodies are refusing to go
into that asana that seemed easy to achieve last week.

This thought can be developed even further. The period between
Pesach and Shavuot is known as the Omer, and we make a
blessing as we count each night from 1 through to 49, as
commanded in the verse: “From the day after the Sabbath, the day that you bring the sheaf of wave-offering, you shall keep count until seven full
weeks have elapsed: you shall count fifty days until the day
after the seventh week, then you shall bring an offering of a
new grain to the Lord…On that same day you shall hold a
celebration, it shall be a sacred occasion for you …” (Lev.
23:15-21)

The omer-count that we do today, since there is no longer a
Temple where we can bring an offering, is a rabbinic device
nudging us into the present moment, methodically allowing us to
connect to each day and deepen our spiritual connection as the
new festival approaches, looking forward to the celebration of
receiving the Torah at Mount Sinai.

Shavuot means ‘weeks’, another reference to the time that we are
counting, and our challenge is to meet God and renew our
connection. An opportunity for the Jewish Yogi is to apply the yoga
practice in the way that we approach this experience. Whether we
are in shul or at home, learning Jewish texts or discussing ideas
with friends, we can observe each moment from a place of calm
and peace, and in that essential moment of shalom, we can
welcome the divine.
Wishing you all a wonderful Shavuot.
​
Marcus.

By Reisha Golden

The more I read the more I see how the relationships are endless. I will try and share with you my journey and give you ideas to bring into your yoga classes.

Yoga means bringing together or Unity – how does this relate to Judaism? In Judaism unity is translated into Yichud or Yechidah – the bringing together of that which is transcendent (beyond time and space) into that which is immanent (within time and space). In yoga, the unity we refer to is mind – body connection, or soul-body connection.

We just began our New Year. With the New Year, we went through a period of Teshuvah or return or repentence, or looking for answers to our deeper selves. I see Teshuvah as a time to return to the soul, to who we are at our deepest level. I took this time to look at my life and to throw out what is not true to me and to keep or find what rings true to my deepest self. Teshuvah has the same root as Shabbat. This was my yearly Shabbat of resting and returning.

Yom Kippur or the Day of AtOneMent brings us to another level of the soul; the highest level, where we sense the Unity in creation – the level of Yechidah – Oneness. And how do we achieve this Oneness? Yom Kippur is considered the Shabbat of Shabbatot, yet we don’t eat or drink. On Yom Kippur, we fast and therefore we are asked to nurture ourselves spiritually. We come ready on Yom Kippur: we have done our work of Teshuvah and mended our relationships with ourselves, with our friends and family, and with our community to the best of our ability. On Yom Kippur we ask God for guidance on how to maintain that sense of Oneness we have worked towards in ourselves and with others. On Yom Kippur we acknowledge our co-partnership with God in achieving our goals, we experience our interdependence and the unity of creation.
​
In yoga we refer to our energy centers as chakras. In Judaism, we have the sefirot based on the Tree of Life. Succot or the Festival of Booths is about experiencing the Divine presence on Earth. The Israelites traveled through the desert with clouds of God’s glory surrounding them. The clouds represent God’s presence on Earth or the Shekhina. Today we build a Succah. The sefira of Malchut (kingdom) or the Root chakra can best be represented here. In Judaism we can think of the upper sefirot or the divine emanations flowing their energy into the Divine presence on Earth or Malchut. What does this mean? Let us in our temporary dwelling (our Succah) or stay on Earth (this lifetime) spend a moment to perceive God’s Oneness through noticing the wonders of the world all around us.

The Parsha or Torah portion for this week focuses on the glory of the mishkan  (tabernacle) a portable sacred place where the children of Israel could come to atone for sins, pray, celebrate, sing and be in gratitude. G-d asked such a place be built for his presence to dwell, to be a home for the Shechinah or divine feminine sparks. The children of Israel excitedly donated many objects for the creation of this sacred space. Materials and wares collected from their Egyptian neighbors upon their departure out of slavery, mirrors used by the women to beautify themselves for the wash basin and even acacia trees planted by Jacob hundreds of years prior. The anticipation for this sacred moment had been far in advance, materials of great value were donated and the thrill of a place of beauty to hold the divine pulsated through camp. Gratitude was immense. Abundance overflowed. Greed was in full force! Greed?

The Sutras speak of non-attachment, for both the positive and the negative: We should not be attached to our success or averse to our suffering. Both shall change. Instead we are to find ourselves as vessels, to allow the universe or divine to flow through us, to be in harmony with the present and our present situation, good or bad.  The Torah and Kabbalah focuses on this concept of non-attachment as well. Abundance comes from the divine and is not ours to own or become attached. Tzedek (jusice) or Tzedekah (charity) is sharing of these gifts from the divine awarded through us as vessels, to the rest of the community. Since we do not own our abundance, we cannot get attached to our happiness or sadness, for it is constant motion and change, and does not belong to us. As King Solomon’s famous ring read: This Too Shall Pass.*  The hard emotional work of non-attachment in fact leads to total surrender and thus total freedom. We learn to avoid the emotional roller coaster of our ups and downs of happiness and sadness, of successes and suffering. We instead earn and learn to be totally and completely in the present moment.
​
Now contrast this with desire: I desire beauty.

Judaism asks that we beautify our mitzvot or connections to G-d, and does not this beautification require attachment and money? In addition, my yoga practice requires money, yoga clothes, mats and classes require money, and I want the best for my practice. I like to beautify my yoga practice. How can I have greed and gratitude?  Is it possible? How should I celebrate and indulge in the upcoming Jewish holiday of Purim without greed? There is the Purim Suedah (feast), costumes, Mishloach Manot (gift baskets), synagogue costs, charity to be given and much more associated with this wonderful holiday. How do I give and receive in beauty? How do I give and receive in gratitude? How do I give and receive to become a dwelling place for the divine, to be that vessel for the divine to flow through me? Can I bring beauty to my greed? Just as the children of Israel were asked to beautify a dwelling place for their practice of gratitude to the divine in the desert, creating an external physical place as a mirror for the internal physical place they creating within their minds, bodies and souls so too can we carve spaces of gratitude in our lives built on the beauty of being in the present moment and not controlling it. Yoga too celebrates the gratitude and the beauty of the unity (yoga means unity) of the world and the divine within each of us. We become that beautiful dwelling place of gratitude.

Question: I am the beautiful dwelling. I desire beauty and money. I am in gratitude. How do I reconcile this greed-I-tude?

Yoga Pose: This week in your baby cobra pose, try to lift your chest 2 inches higher than usual. Hold for nine breaths. Notice how this uplifting opens your heart space as well as puffs your chest up and out. Take note of the rush of love, grace

and pride. Notice the contradiction and the actual needed weaving of these seemingly opposite qualities as you lie on your mat, on the floor, down on the ground as a snake, low of the low.  Notice as you are low to the ground, you are also royal like the cobra.

Meditation: Meditate on how you mix gratitude and greed in your life. Meditate on how honest  you are with your gratitude. Ask yourself: When I give gifts of time, favors, or presents to others, do I expect anything in return? Am I attached to the outcome? How about when I give to humanity, the universe or G-d? Do I expect anything in return? Do I ever exclaim when things do not go the way I want, “But I am a good person!” If I am attached to the outcome is this a true gift? A true gratitude.
 
Mantra 1: I practice gratitude for the present moment and non-attachment to the outcome of each moment. I enter with joy the new month of Adar, and for the joy of the over-indulgent Jewish holiday of Purim. In my over-indulging I meet the divine, as too I meet the divine in my constriction. For my practice of gratitude Yom Kippur (Yom Ke-Purim)** and Yom Purim are one in the same.

Mantra 2: I am in gratitude. Abundance flows through me. I do not seek to control it. I do not seek to control others. I am in joy with the new month of Adar.  I appreciate and celebrate the beauty in my life.  I share the beauty of my soul with the world. I give without expecting anything in return. I receive with grace and gratitude. I am a beautiful dwelling for the divine.

** In the Torah Yom Kippur is written in the plural or as Yom Ha-Kippurim. Kippurim can be read as Ke-Purim, a day like Purim.

* One day King Solomon said to his minister, “Benaiah, there is a certain ring that I want you to bring to me. I wish to wear it for the festival, which gives you six months to find it.”
“If it exists anywhere on earth, your majesty,” replied Benaiah, “I will find it and bring it to you, but what makes the ring so special?”

“It has special powers,” answered the king. “If a happy man looks at it, he becomes sad, and if a sad man looks at it, he becomes happy.”

Months passed and still Benaiah had no idea where he could find the ring. On the day before the festival, he decided to take a walk in one of the poorest quarters of Jerusalem. He passed by a merchant who had begun to set out the day’s wares on a shabby carpet. “Have you by any chance heard of a special ring that makes the happy wearer forget his joy and the broken-hearted wearer forget his sorrows?” asked Benaiah.

He watched the elderly man take a plain gold ring from his carpet and engrave something on it. When Benaiah read the words on the ring, his face broke out in a wide smile.

That night the entire city welcomed in the holiday with great festivity. “Well, my friend,” said King Solomon, “have you found what I sent you after?” All the ministers laughed and Solomon himself smiled.

To everyone’s surprise, Benaiah held up a small gold ring and declared, “Here it is, your majesty!” As soon as Solomon read the inscription, the smile vanished from his face. The jeweler had written three Hebrew letters on the gold band: Gimel, Zayin, Yud, which begin the words “Gam zeh ya’avor – This too shall pass.”
​
At that moment Solomon realized that all his wisdom and fabulous wealth and tremendous power were but fleeting things, for one day he would be nothing but dust. He also realized his wisdom and fabulous wealth and tremendous power were not of his merits but rather gifts of G-d.

The Parsha or Torah portion for this week focuses on the glory of the mishkan  (tabernacle) a portable sacred place where the children of Israel could come to atone for sins, pray, celebrate, sing and be in gratitude. G-d asked such a place be built for his presence to dwell, to be a home for the Shechinah or divine feminine sparks. The children of Israel excitedly donated many objects for the creation of this sacred space. Materials and wares collected from their Egyptian neighbors upon their departure out of slavery, mirrors used by the women to beautify themselves for the wash basin and even acacia trees planted by Jacob hundreds of years prior. The anticipation for this sacred moment had been far in advance, materials of great value were donated and the thrill of a place of beauty to hold the divine pulsated through camp. Gratitude was immense. Abundance overflowed. Greed was in full force! Greed?

The Sutras speak of non-attachment, for both the positive and the negative: We should not be attached to our success or averse to our suffering. Both shall change. Instead we are to find ourselves as vessels, to allow the universe or divine to flow through us, to be in harmony with the present and our present situation, good or bad.  The Torah and Kabbalah focuses on this concept of non-attachment as well. Abundance comes from the divine and is not ours to own or become attached. Tzedek (jusice) or Tzedekah (charity) is sharing of these gifts from the divine awarded through us as vessels, to the rest of the community. Since we do not own our abundance, we cannot get attached to our happiness or sadness, for it is constant motion and change, and does not belong to us. As King Solomon’s famous ring read: This Too Shall Pass.*  The hard emotional work of non-attachment in fact leads to total surrender and thus total freedom. We learn to avoid the emotional roller coaster of our ups and downs of happiness and sadness, of successes and suffering. We instead earn and learn to be totally and completely in the present moment.

Now contrast this with desire: I desire beauty.

Judaism asks that we beautify our mitzvot or connections to G-d, and does not this beautification require attachment and money? In addition, my yoga practice requires money, yoga clothes, mats and classes require money, and I want the best for my practice. I like to beautify my yoga practice. How can I have greed and gratitude?  Is it possible? How should I celebrate and indulge in the upcoming Jewish holiday of Purim without greed? There is the Purim Suedah (feast), costumes, Mishloach Manot (gift baskets), synagogue costs, charity to be given and much more associated with this wonderful holiday. How do I give and receive in beauty? How do I give and receive in gratitude? How do I give and receive to become a dwelling place for the divine, to be that vessel for the divine to flow through me? Can I bring beauty to my greed? Just as the children of Israel were asked to beautify a dwelling place for their practice of gratitude to the divine in the desert, creating an external physical place as a mirror for the internal physical place they creating within their minds, bodies and souls so too can we carve spaces of gratitude in our lives built on the beauty of being in the present moment and not controlling it. Yoga too celebrates the gratitude and the beauty of the unity (yoga means unity) of the world and the divine within each of us. We become that beautiful dwelling place of gratitude.

Question: I am the beautiful dwelling. I desire beauty and money. I am in gratitude. How do I reconcile this greed-I-tude?

Yoga Pose: This week in your baby cobra pose, try to lift your chest 2 inches higher than usual. Hold for nine breaths. Notice how this uplifting opens your heart space as well as puffs your chest up and out. Take note of the rush of love, grace and pride. Notice the contradiction and the actual needed weaving of these seemingly opposite qualities as you lie on your mat, on the floor, down on the ground as a snake, low of the low.  Notice as you are low to the ground, you are also royal like the cobra.

Meditation: Meditate on how you mix gratitude and greed in your life. Meditate on how honest  you are with your gratitude. Ask yourself: When I give gifts of time, favors, or presents to others, do I expect anything in return? Am I attached to the outcome? How about when I give to humanity, the universe or G-d? Do I expect anything in return? Do I ever exclaim when things do not go the way I want, “But I am a good person!” If I am attached to the outcome is this a true gift? A true gratitude.

 Mantra 1: I practice gratitude for the present moment and non-attachment to the outcome of each moment. I enter with joy the new month of Adar, and for the joy of the over-indulgent Jewish holiday of Purim. In my over-indulging I meet the divine, as too I meet the divine in my constriction. For my practice of gratitude Yom Kippur (Yom Ke-Purim)** and Yom Purim are one in the same.

Mantra 2: I am in gratitude. Abundance flows through me. I do not seek to control it. I do not seek to control others. I am in joy with the new month of Adar.  I appreciate and celebrate the beauty in my life.  I share the beauty of my soul with the world. I give without expecting anything in return. I receive with grace and gratitude. I am a beautiful dwelling for the divine.

** In the Torah Yom Kippur is written in the plural or as Yom Ha-Kippurim. Kippurim can be read as Ke-Purim, a day like Purim.

* One day King Solomon said to his minister, “Benaiah, there is a certain ring that I want you to bring to me. I wish to wear it for the festival, which gives you six months to find it.”

“If it exists anywhere on earth, your majesty,” replied Benaiah, “I will find it and bring it to you, but what makes the ring so special?”

“It has special powers,” answered the king. “If a happy man looks at it, he becomes sad, and if a sad man looks at it, he becomes happy.”

Months passed and still Benaiah had no idea where he could find the ring. On the day before the festival, he decided to take a walk in one of the poorest quarters of Jerusalem. He passed by a merchant who had begun to set out the day’s wares on a shabby carpet. “Have you by any chance heard of a special ring that makes the happy wearer forget his joy and the broken-hearted wearer forget his sorrows?” asked Benaiah.

He watched the elderly man take a plain gold ring from his carpet and engrave something on it. When Benaiah read the words on the ring, his face broke out in a wide smile.

That night the entire city welcomed in the holiday with great festivity. “Well, my friend,” said King Solomon, “have you found what I sent you after?” All the ministers laughed and Solomon himself smiled.

To everyone’s surprise, Benaiah held up a small gold ring and declared, “Here it is, your majesty!” As soon as Solomon read the inscription, the smile vanished from his face. The jeweler had written three Hebrew letters on the gold band: Gimel, Zayin, Yud, which begin the words “Gam zeh ya’avor – This too shall pass.”

At that moment Solomon realized that all his wisdom and fabulous wealth and tremendous power were but fleeting things, for one day he would be nothing but dust. He also realized his wisdom and fabulous wealth and tremendous power were not of his merits but rather gifts of G-d.

by Marcus J Freed

For more Jewish/Yogic teachings, check out Marcus J Freed’s book The Festive Sutras: A Yogi’s Guide to Shabbat & Jewish Festivals, available on Amazon https://amzn.to/3vkR0se.
We are now approaching an energetic low point in the Jewish calendar. This period of nine days leading up to Tisha B’Av is a time for refraining from physical pleasures. The ninth day in the month of Av commemorates the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, an event that had profound consequences.
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The painful absence
It isn’t easy to feel the loss for something you never had, but this is precisely what Jewish tradition asks us to do. I don’t miss not having million pounds, a personal helicopter or a yacht in the South of France, and there is a huge challenge in trying to genuinely miss something that wasn’t experienced in our lifetime.

While it was standing, the Temple was a physical, tangible, sensational framework for connecting to the Divine. Sensational because it affected every single sensation, whether it was stretching your body as you prostrated on the warm Jerusalem ground, your nose smelling the barbecue aroma of sacrifices, your tastebuds savouring the flavour of the showbread, your ears hearing the sound of the shofars being blown or your eyes filling with the sight of thousands of people visiting on a pilgrimage.

Jewish Mecca
The Temple was our Mecca and three times a year we did our Haj. Jewish life has never been the same since, and it is no coincidence that the spiritual experience of most contemporary synagogues is a fairly lacklustre. On one level, the Jewish people are still reeling from the impact of being dispersed by the Babylonians and the Romans. Several Jewish practices directly relate to Temple life, but they are no equivalent to the real thing.

Yogi’s dilemma
The nine days is a time for withdrawing from the body and deliberately paying less attention to the physical aspect of our nature, as we adhere to the customs of mourning. These include not shaving, not getting a haircut, not buying new clothes, not listening to live music, or swimming, dancing and so forth. If we are using yoga as a tool for Jewish meditation and for connecting to the Divine aspects of our body, what are we supposed to do during a time of physical abstinence?

Body and Temple
The sages draw strong parallels between the Temple and the body, and go so far as to say that every part of the Temple directly corresponds to a physical limb. The writer of the midrash stated that in the Mishkan
“ the beams were fixed into the sockets, and in the body the ribs are fixed into the vertebrae…the beams were covered with gold and the ribs are covered with flesh…the veil divided between the Holy place and the Holy of Holies, and in the body the diaphragm divides the heart from the stomach.”
(Midrash in Genesis Rabbah, as quoted by Raphael Patai in ‘Man and Temple’ (New York: Ktav 1967).
The Biblical descriptions of the Temple are presented in very literal language and it can be difficult to find personal meaning in the long passages that occur throughout Exodus and Leviticus. This midrash is a very helpful meditational tool, as we will see later.
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Although it might be tempting to think, ‘The Temple has been destroyed and now we can focus on restoring and repairing it through physical meditation’, that would missing the point. This a period of low spiritual energy which is deliberately focused on mourning and loss, and depressing though it might be, it isn’t a time for rebuilding. The nine days represent the first phase of mourning where people are supposed to remember what they have lost and heighten their sensitivity towards it, but not actually fix the problem. Healing comes later, but now is the time for sitting with the discomfort and remembering that we are not complete without the Temple.
Imperfect bodies
One of the beautiful things about practicing yoga is that you do not have to ‘get it right’ or have the perfect body. Although some practitioners might have an incredible backbend – see the pictures in Iyengar’s Light on Yoga as an example – they too can always deepen their postures. Yoga is a continual sense of becoming. It is exceptionally rare, if not completely impossible, to find someone who does not feel that they could improve their asana [posture] practice if their body was a little bit different. If only I had a more flexible lumber spine for improving my backbend. If only I had stronger arms for balancing in the crow. If only my hips were looser so that I could improve my lotus. You hear these words so often after classes, that I’m surprised there isn’t a word in Sanskrit for kvetching.
Bibliyoga toolkit
One thing we can do during the nine days and Tisha B’Av is to experience a yoga practice where we hold postures and really draw our awareness to our own physical limitations. Just as the Temple isn’t whole, there are parts of our bodies which don’t function the way we would like, and may be a source of pain or discomfort. Although yoga should never be painful, it can be a way of exploring our physical limits.
A good place to start is with some sitting postures, such as cross-legged, half-lotus or full lotus, and just holding the posture for as long as you can, drawing attention to your breath and deepening the posture as much as you are able to. Your spine doesn’t twist as much as you’d like? Good! Your shoulders are tighter than you’d like them? Great. Now is the time to hold an awareness of your limits, the feeling of being incomplete, and the fact that things are not as perfect as they could be.
We learned earlier that parts of the body represent areas in the Temple, and a key example is the Kadosh Kadoshim , the Holy of Holies. It was the area of the most intense spiritual connection and the place where the High Priest conversed with God on Yom Kippur . The Holy of Holies corresponds with our hearts, and every yogic posture is concerned with opening the heart space as we take deep, powerful breaths into our thoracic region, and down into our abdomen. As we go through sun salutes and lift our arms up into a high arch, we open the whole area around the heart and can focus on sharing both love and peace.

The Talmud teaches that the Temple was destroyed because of baseless hatred, when people were more obsessed with gratifying their own egos than with the welfare of their fellow humans. Our healing, when it eventually comes, will be achieved through boundless love. We can now practice our yoga and meditate on the fact that we are incomplete, remembering the Hasidic saying said that ‘there is nothing so whole as a broken heart’.

Wishing you a meaningful fast.
Marcus J Freed

Jerusalem, July 19, 2007
Yoga Postures for the Nine Days
Sit cross-legged for a minimum of twenty breaths or two minutes.
Sun salutes (focusing on opening the heart as you hold the high arch).
Bridge and backbends (again, opening out the rib cage).
Savasana/corpse posture (keep breathing throughout).
Marcus J Freed (c) 2007