SALUTE TO THE RISING SUN
Thus, we too shall rise! Surya Namaskara is a powerful practice that is a vinyasa, or flowing, continuous breath related movement that can be performed either methodically or in a rapid fire pace. Of course, within the practice, there can be an alternating of the pacing, as well, inclusions of other asanas or postures, even individually adaptive within the framework of this pure structure. These variations distribute and enhance dynamic equilibrium and movement within a wider array of the body's matrix.
Please note the next few images and readings also relate to the awakening of the consciousness which is liken to an arising, i.e., the rising sun.
KRISHNAMACHARYA -THE LEGEND
Tirumalai Krishnamacharya, born 1888. is regarded, without a doubt, one of the more inspiring yogis influencing contemporary yoga. In our time, his teachings have become highly popularized through his renowned students, who can be deemed as esteemed masters themselves: TKV Desikachar, BKS Iyengar, Pattabhi Jois and Indira Devi.
T. Krishnamacharya, a direct descendant of Nathamuni, a ninth century yogi, began his formal education at the age of six, at the Parakala Math in Mysore. It is said his thirst for knowledge inspired him to extensively travel learning every aspect of Vedic traditions from the best teachers in India. He was an illuminati of an inspired lineage, easily mastering the Ayurveda and the Sanskrit schools of philosophical learning in India. At age twenty-eight, he journeyed to Lake Manasarovar at the foot of Mt.Kailash, in the Himalayas, to learn from Yoga Adept, Rama Mohana Brahmachari. After seven and a half years, at the command of his guru, he left Manasarovar to share his wisdom with and for the benefit of society at large.
Noted master of several disciplines, Krishnamacharya was offered prestigious academic positions in higher institutes of learning, as well in the courts of kings, but chose to teach yoga, in order to honor the promise he made to his Beloved Guru.
On numerous occasions he demonstrated for the world's view, the magnificence and power potential of yoga. He revealed, conveyed, evidenced, and transmitted the quality required for the renewal of vitality and health, for the world, through yoga. Krishnamacharya evinced even more the astounding qualifications of yoga, when he demonstrated the conscious control of internal automatic bodily functions. His practical application of yogic scientific methods, used to stop his heart beat for over two minutes, is a notable example. Yet, the most significant contribution to the world for vitality and health, is the adaptive aspect of yoga to the individual, enhancing the practical application of yoga for all persons. Krishnamacharya was so well versed and inner aligned in the heart with the Divine Plan and the world's ensuing archetypal patterns, mythologies, principles and philosophy, he was enabled to fine tune the expression and instruction of yoga for everyday life, rather than just for the ascetic or monastic lifestyle.
T. Krishnamacharya insisted, that in the Spirit of Yoga, techniques must be evolved to suit the needs of the individual at the given moment. This represents, indeed, the yoga of yoga Krishnamacharya lived for and continued to teach until his transition.
PHARAOH AMENHOTEP IV, AKHNATON
AKHNATON'S HYMN TO THE SUN
Thy dawning is beautiful in the horizon of the sky,
O living Aton, Beginning of life!
When thou risest in the Eastern horizon,
Thou fillest every land with thy beauty.
Thou art beautiful, great, glittering, high above every land,
Thy rays, they encompass the lands, even all that thou hast made.
Thou art Ra, and thou carriest them all away captive;
Thou bindest them by thy love.
Though thou art far away, thy rays are upon the earth;
Though thou art on high, thy footprints are the day.
When thou settest in the western horizon of the sky,
The earth is in darkness like the dead;
They sleep in their chambers,
Their heads are wrapped up,
Their nostrils are stopped,
And none seeth the other,
While all their things are stolen
Which are under their heads,
And they know it not.
Every lion cometh forth from his den,
All serpents, they Sting.
Darkness ...
The world is in silence,
He that made them resteth in his horizon.
Bright is the earth when thou risest in the horizon.
When thou shinest as Aton by day
Thou drivest away the darkness.
When thou sendest forth thy rays,
The Two Lands (Egypt) are in daily festivity,
Awake and standing upon their feet
When thou hast raised them up.
Their limbs bathed, they take their clothing,
Their arms uplifted in adoration to thy dawning.
(Then) in all the world they do their work.
All cattle rest upon their pasturage,
The trees and the plants flourish,
The birds flutter in their marshes,
Their wings uplifted in adoration to thee.
All the sheep dance upon their feet,
All winged things fly,
They live when thou hast shone upon them.
The barques sail up-stream and down-stream alike.
Every highway is open because thou dawnest.
The fish in the river leap up before thee.
Thy rays are in the midst of the great green sea.
Creator of the germ in woman,
Maker of seed in man,
Giving life to the son in the body of his mother,
Soothing him that he may not weep,
Nurse (even) in the womb,
Giver of breath to animate every one that he maketh!
When he cometh forth from the body ... on the day of his birth,
Thou openest his mouth in speech,
Thou suppliest his necessities.
When the fledgling in the egg chirps in the shell,
Thou givest him breath therein to preserve him alive.
When thou hast brought him together
To (the point of) bursting it in the egg,
He cometh forth from the egg
To chirp with all his might.
He goeth about upon his two feet
When he hath come forth therefrom.
How manifold are thy works!
They are hidden from before (us),
O sole God, whose powers no other possesseth.
Thou didst create the earth according to thy heart
While thou wast alone:
Men, all cattle large and small,
All that are upon the earth,
That go about upon their feet;
(All) that are on high,
That fly with their wings.
The foreign countries, Syria and Kush,
The land of Egypt;
Thou settest every man into his place,
Every one has his possessions,
And his days are reckoned.
Their tongues are diverse in speech,
Their forms likewise and their skins are distinguished.
(For) thou makest different the strangers.
Thou makest the Nile in the Nether World,
Thou bringest it as thou desirest,
To preserve alive the people.
For thou hast made them for thyself,
The lord of them all, resting among them;
Thou lord of every land, who risest for them,
Thou Sun of day, great in majesty.
All the distant countries,
Thou makest (also) their life,
Thou hast set a Nile in the sky;
When it falleth for them,
It maketh waves upon the mountains,
Like the great green sea,
Watering the fields in their towns.
How excellent are thy designs, O lord of eternity!
There is a Nile in the sky for the strangers
And for the cattle of every country that go upon their feet.
(But) the Nile, it cometh from the Nether World for Egypt.
Thy rays nourish every garden;
When thou risest they live,
They grow by thee.
Thou makest the seasons
In order to create all thy work:
Winter to bring them coolness,
And heat they they may taste thee.
Thou didst make the distant sky to rise therein,
In order to behold all that thou hast made,
Thou alone, shining in thy form as living Aton,
Dawning, glittering, going afar and returning.
Thou makest millions of forms
Through thyself alone;
Cities, towns, and tribes, highways and rivers.
All eyes see thee before them,
For thou art Aton of the day over the earth.
Thou art in my heart,
There is no other that knoweth thee
Save thy son Akhnaton.
Thou has made him wise
In thy designs and in thy might.
The world is in thy hand,
Even as thou hast made them.
When thou hast risen they live,
When thou settest, they die;
For thou art length of life of thyself,
Men live through thee,
While (their) eyes are on thy beauty
Until thou settest.
All labour is put away
When thou settest in the west.
Thou didst establish the world,
And raise them up for thy son,
Who came forth from thy limbs,
The King of Upper and Lower Egypt,
Living in Truth, Lord of the Two Lands,
Nefer-khrpru-Ra, Wan-Ra (Akhnaton),
Son of Ra, living in Truth, lord of diadems,
Akhnaton, whose life is long;
(And for) the chief royal wife, his beloved,
Mistress of the Two Lands, Nefer-nefru-Aton, Nofretete,
Living and flourishing for ever and ever.
Translated by J. H. Breasted, in Development of Religion andThought in Ancient Egypt,
Chicago, 1912, pp. 324-328.
return to akhnaton
Whirling, In Remembrance Of God
FLAME IN CHALICE
by Nicholas Roerich (1874-1947)
PART IV
TO THE HUNTER ENTERING THE FOREST
TO THE HUNTER ENTERING THE FOREST
Did Roerich give it?
Accept it.
Did A-Lal-Ming, Shri Ishvara, give it?
Accept it.
I am with him.
At the hour of sunrise I shall find thee awake already,
O hunter!
Armed with thy net thou wilt enter the forest.
Thou hast prepared thyself.
Thou art laved and alert.
Thy garments hamper thee not.
Girded up are thy loins
And thy thoughts are free.
Yes, thou hast prepared thyself
And bidden farewell to the master of the house.
Thou, O hunter, hast come to love the forest
And by thy hunting wilt bring good unto thy clan.
Thou art ready to blow thy horn.
Thou hast marked down for thyself a noble quarry
And hast not feared the weight thereof.
Blessings! Blessings! O thou who hast entered!
Are thy nets strong?
Hast thou strengthened them with prolonged labor?
Hast thou tried them with testing blows?
Art thou gleesome?
And should thy laughter scare part of the quarry, fear not.
But clash not thy weapons
Nor call loudly on the huntsmen.
Ah! Shouldst thou be unskillful,
From a hunter thou shalt be made a beater
And even the huntsman will be thy master.
Gather knowledge.
Watch thy trail.
Why dost thou look around thee?
Under the red stone lies the red serpent
And the green moss hides the green viper.
But its sting is all-fatal.
From thy childhood thou hast been told of serpents and scorpions—
A whole teaching of fear!
Many of the chirping and hissing will fly after thee
And a rustle will creep by thy path
And howling will pierce thine ear.
Worms grow into whales
And the mole becomes the tiger.
But thou knowest the essence, O hunter!
All this is not thine.
Thine is the quarry!
Hasten! Delay not, O thou who hast entered!
Waste not thy nets on the jackal.
The quarry is known to the hunter.
It seems to thee that thou wast wise yesterday
Yet thou knowest not who laid the circles of stones
On the outskirts of forests.
What do they mean?
And for whom is the sign of warning on the towering pine?
Thou dost not even know who filled with skulls the ravine
Into which thou didst cast thy glance.
But even shouldst thou be in danger,
Go not down into the ravine nor hide behind a tree.
Thy ways are without number and the foe has but one.
From the pursued become thou the attacker.
How strong are the accusers
And how weak the defenders of self!
Defense of self leave to others.
Do thou attack.
For thou knowest wherefore thou hast come forth
And why thou hast not feared the forest.
O sacred and terrible and blessed forest,
Let the hunter pass through thee!
Hold him not back.
Hide not the ways and the trail.
And terrify him not.
For I know that thou art many-voiced
But I have heard thy voices
And my hunter will take his quarry.
And thou, O hunter, know thine own quarry.
Believe not those who call thee
Nor turn unto those who would counsel.
Thou, only thou, knowest thy quarry
And wilt not choose a small quarry.
And wilt not be detained by the shadows.
Who doubts is already the enemy's prey.
Who gives way to musing loses his nets.
And he who has lost them turns backward dismayed.
But thou, O hunter, go forward!
All that is left behind is not for thee
And thou knowest this as well as do I.
For thou knowest all
And canst remember all things.
Thou knowest of wisdom,
Thou hast heard of courage,
Thou knowest of finding,
And through the ravine thou passest to mount to the hill.
And the flowers of the ravine are not thy flowers
And not for thee is the brook in the hollow.
Sparkling waterfalls wilt thou find
And springs shall refresh thee
And before thee shall blossom the heather of happiness.
But it blosoms only on heights
And the best hunting will not be at the foot of the hill
But thy quarry will flee over the crest.
And flaming in the skies, rising over the summit
It will come to a stand
And will look around it.
Then do thou not delay:
This hour is thine.
Thou and thy quarry will be on the heights
And neither thou nor the quarry will desire to go down to the hollow.
This is thine hour.
But when throwing thy net thou knowest
That thou art not a victor—
Thou hast taken only thine own.
Nor thyself count a victor
For all are victors, though they remember it not.
I have brought thee to the broad rivers
And to the boundless lakes
And I have shown thee the ocean.
He who has seen the infinite will not be lost in the finite,
For there is no infinite forest
And one may go round any morass, O hunter!
Together we have woven thy nets,
Together we have sought the huntsmen,
Together we have chosen the places best for hunting,
Together we have avoided danger,
Together we have made sure our way.
Without Me thou wouldst not have known the ocean;
Without thee I should not know the joy of thy winning hunt.
I love thee, my hunter!
And I shall give thy quarry to the Sons of Light.
And even shouldst thou err—
Shouldst thou for a time descend into the hollow,
Shouldst thou even look back upon the skulls,
Shouldst thou by laughter drive away a part of the quarry—
Yet I know that thou goest unweariably for the hunt,
That thou art not discouraged and wilt not lose thy way.
Thou knowest how to find thy trail by the sun
And how to turn to the road guided by whirlwinds.
But who set it afire—the sun?
And who drove it here—the whirlwind?
But I speak to thee out of the sphere of the sun—
I, thy Friend, thy Teacher, Companion on thy way.
Let the huntsmen and the leaders of the beaters be friends
And after the chase, resting on the hill,
Call unto thee the huntsmen and leaders of the beaters.
Tell them how thou didst go unto the hill
And why the hunter must not lurk in ravines,
And how on the crest thou didst meet thy quarry
And how thou knowest that this quarry is thine.
And how one must leave aside all smaller prey
For he who trails it, with it will remain.
Tell them also how the hunter bears on him all the signs of the hunting
And how he alone knows his art and his quarry.
Tell not of the hunting to those who know not the quarry.
In the hour of trouble, in the hour of darkness,
They will engage themselves as beaters
And in the reeds take part in the hunting.
But, O hunter, recognize the huntsmen;
Drink water with them by the fire of rest.
Discern, O insightful one!
And having finished thy hunting
Mend thy nets and plan a new hunt.
Be not alarmed; seek not to alarm.
For shouldst thou alarm, a still greater fear will turn upon thee.
Plan simply.
For all is simple.
All is beautiful.
Beautiful is that which is planned.
All fear shalt thou conquer by thine unconquerable essence.
But shouldst thou begin to tremble, then defeated
And reduced to naught,
Neither crying aloud nor keeping silence,
Having lost consciousness of time, place and life,
Thou wilt lose the remnant of thy will.
Whither then wilt thou flee?
But should any of the exhausted leaders warn thee
against the hunting, Hear them not, O my hunter!
Demeanors of the will are these whose shield is a doubt.
What will their hunting be?
And what will they bring to their clans?
An empty net again?
Again unfulfilled desires?
Lost are they, as is lost their precious time.
The hunter exists for the hunting.
Hearken not to the hours of weariness.
In these hours thou art not the hunter.
Thou art the quarry!
The whirlwind will pass:
Do thou be silent.
And again thou shalt take thy horn
Without being late; fear not that thou wilt be late
And when overtaking, turn not backward.
All that is comprehensible is incomprehensible.
Where is the limit to miracles?
And one last enjoinment, O my hunter!
If on the first day of the hunting
Thou shouldst not come upon the quarry,
Grieve not—
To thee is already destined the quarry!
He who knows—searches.
He who wins knowledge—achieves.
He who has found—is amazed at the ease of the capture.
He who has seized—
sings hymns of attainment.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Rejoice!
O thrice called Hunter.
return to flame-in-chalice
*Agni Yoga Society
I will be waiting here
For your silence to break
For your soul to shake
For your love to wake.
-- Rumi
Disclaimer