Yoga and Parrot Story by Rumi

It's such Delight to be back, practicing yoga at Yoga Hanalei with Bhavani. Last night I purchased a five class pass. Deep Relax was the offering.She began with this sweet story by Rumi, as we settled into sukhasana or a more advanced, yet supported, fire legs. She allowed more silence this year and later spoke of manna maya kosha. How yoga is seen as a selfish pursuit, but the kindest thing we can do for others is become clear and skillful in our responses to better all our relationships, to help others, study yourself in essence. She also spoke of the swedes who changed the nature of yoga in the twentieth century to make it more like calisthenics. Originally it was mostly comprised of seated poses, to aid in meditation. A very enjoyable class, and she asked me how long I had been practicing here in Hanalei, "12 years" now. . She asked to give me a hug :)Mmmm. Namaste

Fire legs r
Fire legs l
Janu Sirsana r
Janu Sirsana l
Supta pascimottasana
Supta baddha konasana
Laying twist on r
Laying twist on l
Vipariti Karani

Rumi: Parrot


"The Indian Parrot" (trans. Coleman Barks)

There was a merchant setting out for India.
He asked each male and female servant
what they wanted to be brought as a gift.
Each told him a different exotic object:
A piece of silk, a brass figurine,
a pearl necklace.
Then he asked his beautiful caged parrot,
the one with such a lovely voice,
and she said,
"When you see the Indian parrots,
describe my cage. Say that I need guidance
here in my separation from them. Ask how
our friendship can continue with me so confined
and them flying about freely in the meadow mist.
Tell them that I remember well our mornings
moving together from tree to tree.
Tell them to drink one cup of ecstatic wine
in honor of me here in the dregs of my life.
Tell them that the sound of their quarreling
high in the trees would be sweeter
to hear than any music."
This parrot is the spirit-bird in all of us,
that part that wants to return to freedom,
and is the freedom. What she wants
from India is herself!
So this parrot gave her message to the merchant,
and when he reached India, he saw a field
full of parrots. He stopped
and called out what she had told him.
One of the nearest parrots shivered
and stiffened and fell down dead.
The merchant said, "This one is surely kin
to my parrot. I shouldn't have spoken."
He finished his trading and returned home
with the presents for his workers.
When he got to the parrot, she demanded her gift.
"What happened when you told my story
to the Indian parrots?"
"I'm afraid to say."
"Master, you must!"
"When I spoke your complaint to the field
of chattering parrots, it broke
one of their hearts.
She must have been a close companion,
or a relative, for when she heard about you
she grew quiet and trembled, and died."
As the caged parrot heard this, she herself
quivered and sank to the cage floor.
This merchant was a good man.
He grieved deeply for his parrot, murmuring
distracted phrases, self-contradictory -
cold, then loving - clear, then
murky with symbolism.
A drowning man reaches for anything!
The Friend loves this flailing about
better than any lying still.
The One who lives inside existence
stays constantly in motion,
and whatever you do, that king
watches through the window.
When the merchant threw the "dead" parrot
out of the cage, it spread its wings
and glided to a nearby tree!
The merchant suddenly understood the mystery.
"Sweet singer, what was in the message
that taught you this trick?"
"She told me that it was the charm
of my voice that kept me caged.
Give it up, and be released!"
The parrot told the merchant one or two more
spiritual truths. Then a tender goodbye.
"God protect you," said the merchant
"as you go on your new way.
I hope to follow you!"