Skunked

My brother came by to deliver New York magazine and pick some kale. As we chatted about nothing much an alarm went off in my nose. Some odors don't require a keen sense of smell. It wasn't a direct hit but Had got skunked.

“What happened?” I asked as I casually moved us outside.

“The cat wanted to go out early this morning so I opened the slider for her. An hour or so later she came back to the bedroom and was acting really strange. I got up and there was a skunk in the living room by the door. I moved towards it slowly and opened up the other slider and out it went.”

The cat got sprayed just enough to lovingly rub the scent on to Had.

He was on his way to get hydrogen peroxide and baking soda. That's what humans use when they don't want to sit in a tub filled with tomato juice. A couple hours later he came back for a sniff test.

The nose has a way of ignoring skunk scent after a while. I know this for fact because Georgia has been sprayed twice. The mind steps in and soothes the nose by reminding it of similar scents like Heineken in a bottle or maybe wafting smoke from a Dead show back in the day. Did I ever say "This beer tastes like skunk piss”? If not me someone did. Was skunk weed bad pot or just odiferous? Eventually the smell doesn't seem so bad, it starts to loose its potency, then again, on Had, it hadn't. Back to tub.

Fortunately Had is Summer Retired, no longer spending hours with the public under a hot sun. Luckily he isn't a yoga teacher either. What if Spooky got misted? She sleeps on my head most of the time. Chances are I would get used to the scent but my fellow practitioners might not. If ever a test there was to let thoughts, sounds and smells pass by without attachment this would be a doozy.

Pratyahara encourages us to ignore the mental chatter instigated by internal and external sensations or discomfort, and it takes practice. Like bad smells, this chatter will inevitably dissipate if we let it.

Admittedly I find the whole incident pretty funny and Had is used to me laughing at misfortune. It's good for the stomach muscles.

Ironically I’ve introduced all my classes this week with a quote by Shunryu Suzuki, “In zazen, leave your front door and your back door open. Let thoughts come and go. Just don't serve them tea.” It's a reminder to stay focused in meditation.

However, rather than leave the doors open I would suggest just leaving them unlocked and spread a little Skunk Begone around the house first.

Namaste- Had's skunk smell is gone HOORAY!

Let’s talk about the weather.

Weather is a safe subject, more so than politics or religion. For some it may be safer than discussing yoga. It's something we experience together.
“It's so hot you could fry an egg.”

“You got that right. My brain feels like that egg.”

Sometimes misery loves company.

The tv is on every morning. When it's time for the weather I completely zone out. I'm not sure if it's the monotonous cadence of the reporter or the swirling graphics that send me to la-la land.

I must be practicing Pratyahara unintentionally. Pratyahara is the 5th limb of the classic yoga path. It refers to letting go of our senses like sound, sight, smell and thoughts in preparation for meditation or deep concentration. Ignoring outside influences in order to quiet the mind.

“What's the day going to be like”, I ask Honeybun with regularity.

“Weren't you listening? He just said rain in the morning, may clear up by noon.”

Considering a lot of what I do is weather dependent you'd think I'd be more attentive but I'm not.

You'd  also think I'd lose attention during commercial breaks instead; but, I like commercials, especially in other states and countries. You can get a great deal of information about local life through advertisements. It's reassuring to know that people in Ireland, for example, promote car dealerships in the same obnoxious way they do in Albany, New York. “Huge” is an adjective used globally and it didn't start with a United States president. We in this world have a lot in common.

I prefer listening to the radio versus a CD in the car for the same reason. Constant chatter means the world and I are still in this life together doing similar things.  Fortunately for other drivers out there I don't zone out as much driving as I do eating breakfast.

Pratyahara encourages us, not only to let go of our senses, but also to let go of the stimulus associated with them. It's not reacting in the same old way to surroundings or circumstances.

For example, not opening our eyes during final relaxation in a yoga class to see who is leaving early and wondering why. Or resisting the urge to look around when someone thumps out of balance. Same kinds of the things cause distraction in church, at the theater or in conversation.

Pratyahara encourages us to be part of the world without necessarily reacting to every little thing. Focusing our attention patiently. Knee jerk reactions make a monsoon out of a spring shower.

Reactions are quick; responses take more time. It's the difference between assuming and understanding or between a tweet and an email.

A 4 year old and I got caught walking home in a rainstorm. She lamented, “ We're going to be drenched rats”. That remains one of the funniest memories in my life. My initial reaction was to laugh but she sounded so miserable; instead, I responded “Great! I've never seen one!” We both began to enjoy our sodden transformation.

Next time the weather comes on let it be background chatter. Accept the day as it comes. If you get caught in a downpour see if you can continue what you are doing instead of running for shelter. I hope we can all agree there is something inherently funny about getting drenched.

Namaste- there's a chance that it will snow today.