Monthly Archives: October 2015

The Dinner Table Book of Yoga

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The development of yoga practice in the Western World has been amazingly rapid and dynamic. What was once considered an occult practice for Indian rubber men only has today become a popular activity among millions of people in the West from all walks of life. One feature of the Western approach to yoga has been the “practical” attitude that seeks to de-mystify the ancient art, take it out of the exclusive domain of unwashed fakirs and bring its wisdom to bear on the everyday problems we face. Such popular books as “Yoga for the Businessman,” “Sex and Yoga,” “Yoga and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance,” and “Beach Blanket Yoga” have not only attracted and edified millions of newcomers, but have demonstrated that yoga is a living and growing tradition, not merely a curiosity from bygone ages.

As the number of adherents in the West continues to grow, there has been an increasing demand for more technical manuals for the advanced practitioner, to bring the light of yoga into every dark corner of our lives. The recent publication of “Yoga in the Bathroom,” “Backseat Yoga,” “Yoga Goes to the Movies,” and “Midnight Yoga” has pointed up this trend. But it seems that one very important activity has been, up to now, neglected in this rush to apply the art of yoga to the routine of daily living.

Most of us eat three times a day. Regrettably, most of us also hunch over our plates wolfing down the food as fast as we can, pausing only to make idle conversation. Where is our poise and posture, our concentrated mindfulness in the dining room? The fact is, when face to face with a tasty meal it seems to go right out the window. No wonder so many these days are suffering from overweight, heartburn, cholesterol, hemorrhoids, ulcers, hardening of the arteries and swollen ankles.

“The Dinner Table Book of Yoga” by Dr. Plato Vermicelli is a brilliant and comprehensive work which brings the powerful eye of yoga to focus on the philosophy and practice of bodily nourishment, and answers a crying need on the part of advanced performers for guidance and inspiration in this sadly neglected but extremely important area of daily routine. We present here, exclusively for the readers of New Age Gourmet, a few excerpts from this long-awaited book.

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Savasana or Corpse Posture

This posture looks simple enough, but is actually difficult, even dangerous, to perform correctly. The yogi proceeds thusly: once everyone is seated at the table and the food served into each plate, the yogi with mind composed and resolute, falls forward, burying the face in his plate of food. He maintains this posture with perfect motionlessness for as long as possible, in advanced performance as long as the meal lasts. The temptation will be strong to sneak a few bites of food, but others at the table will no doubt be watching for any surreptitious chewing and swallowing. It is considered very bad form to rise from Savasana just in time for dessert.

This classical posture adapted for the dinner table has many benefits. First and formost it instantly puts an end to overeating, while testing and strengthening the will power. It may even inspire others at the table to eat less. Depending on the food served (avocado salad for example), Savasana can benefit the complexion. If any of the other dinner guests happen to be practicing the Buddhist “cemetery contemplations,” they may derive great insight into the fleeting nature of life and the impermanence of the body by observing a convincing performance of the Corpse Posture during the course of a meal.

However, it must be noted that this posture can be one of the most hazardous. Only last year, Ann Idiot of Brooklyn, New York drowned in the attempt to perform Savasana into a tureen of bouillabaisse at a local French restaurant. It is rumored that two Buddhists at the next table achieved enlightenment as she was pronounced dead shortly after dessert, and Ann is today regarded as something of a martyr by dedicated adepts of dinner table yoga, but novices are warned to pay heed to her fate unless they are prepared to make the “ultimate sacrifice.” In another tragic accident, Mr. Herbert Horselips of Portland, Maine lost his right eye as he plunged into a plate of spiny lobsters.

Salad Bowl or Disgusting Posture

This is a brand new posture developed by my eight-year-old son, a talented yogi in the making. Not a particularly difficult posture to perform, it is nevertheless of great benefit not only to the yogi himself but to all at the table, and has quickly become a feature of every Vermicelli dinner party. The yogi proceeds thusly: once all the guests have been seated the yogi climbs onto the table, trying not to step in anyone’s plate, and sits down in the salad bowl where he remains for the rest of the meal.

As in many of these dinner table postures, the advanced yogi is expected to fast during performance, but my son will occasionally weaken and be caught groping between his legs for a radish or a bit of hard-boiled egg. Nonetheless, overeating will definitely be curbed by the Salad Bowl Posture, not only for the performer but others as well. No one, for example, will care to try the salad, and some guests may be expected to lose their appetites entirely. The wise host can sometimes plan accordingly and effect a considerable savings on the grocery bill. In our household there has been a noticeable drop in the number of casual dinner guests since the practice of Salad Bowl Posture caught on in the family. My wife, God bless her, appreciates these benefits, but still insists on calling this the “Disgusting Posture.”

Uselessana or The Bureaucrat’s Posture

There is some confusion among adepts about the Bureaucrat’s Posture. Actually several different postures and practices have been given this contemporary name. First there is the classical Uselessana or Sitting-on-the-Hands Posture. This time-honored posture is pretty much self-explanatory and adapts to the dinner table in two variations: the fasting and non-fasting. Fasting is, of course, preferred, but yogis who do not wish to fast will find that the Sitting-on-the-Hands Posture still presents a formidable challenge. In any case overeating will be discouraged, and other guests at the table will probably eat less as well. Advanced performers occasionally vary this posture by inserting a thumb (or both thumbs!) into the anus, but this is not recommended for beginners. A variation of Uselessana, popularly known as The Bureaucrat’s Excuse, has the yogi’s hands securely tied behind his back. Otherwise the posture and practice are identical with Uselessana.

One other contemporary practice sometimes grouped with the Bureaucrat’s Posture, though it is not strictly speaking a formal asana, consists in passing a dollar bill around the table during the meal. The bill should keep moving, each person pausing to pass the buck along as it comes to him. As the dollar continually intrudes on the eater he will be bound to eat less, be reminded of the transitory nature of materiality, and, should the dollar disappear into somebody’s pocket as it often does, of the as-yet-imperfect character of man. Even my wife approves of this practice, “…as long as it’s not my dollar.” Sometimes I wonder if… well, never mind.

Dukkhasana or Miserable Posture

This is another posture from antiquity adapted in recent times for dinner table yoga. Originally adepts sat crosslegged in the marketplace, inserted a sharp-pointed stick crossways in the mouth and proceeded to recite verses from the Upanishads in a loud voice, articulating as best they could under the circumstances.

This little-known practice inspired Mr. Herbert Horselips (previously mentioned under Savasana), a talented Western disciple of the world-renown Swami Sacroiliac, to adopt a mealtime variation. The yogi proceeds thusly: he inserts an eating utensil crossways in the mouth and leaves it there for the duration of the meal. Beginners will do well to start with a teaspoon and, with practice, work their way up through butter knife, salad fork, soup spoon, dinner fork, steak knife, or any combination of the above. Of course the yogi may bring the traditional pointed stick if he wishes, but most modern adepts like the challenge presented by each new set of cutlery they encounter. An interesting gravy ladle or a pair of salad tongs may test his abilities to the fullest. Some experts like to branch out into napkin rings, salt and pepper shakers, coffee cups, butter dishes, and so forth. Anything on the table you can cram into your mouth is fair game.

As with Uselessana, the yogi may feed or fast as he chooses but in either case everyone at the table will almost certainly eat less. Just to be the exception that proves the rule, Mr. Horselips himself, at a recent demonstration, got his mouth around a whole bottle of Mateus rosé and then proceeded to eat a five-course dinner with aperitif, coffee, and dessert. The casual reader will understandably be skeptical of such a report, but Mr. Horselips has been practicing Dukkhasana for nearly 20 years now and must be seen to be believed. Most incredible of all, witnesses report that Horselips somehow managed to uncork the bottle and drank every drop of wine! There seems to be no limit to the power of yoga in the hands of an expert.

The Dinner Table Book of Yoga was written during a 3-month stay at the Siyane Meditation Center in Kanduboda, Sri Lanka in 1983. In the library there I found a number of Indian yoga manuals which described such practices as swallowing a 25 foot strip of cotton cloth and then slowly pulling it all out, or here’s another: giving oneself an enema by standing in the river and just…well need I go on? It just got me to thinking that’s all. In the 40 years since this was written some of the satire has been upstaged by the trajectory of the yoga movement, especially in the USA. With yoga studios on every corner and “yoga teacher” replacing “massage therapist” as the gladiator sandal of career paths, some of my scenarios are looking less problematic. Ten years after I wrote this, a friend of mine thought it would be a stroke of genius to add a little yoga to her gymnastics class at the local YMCA. She submitted her proposal, waited for a pat on the back and a green light…and got fired on the spot. Today “Christian Yoga” is a thing.

Full disclosure: I still do a bit of yoga every morning immediately after rolling out of bed, just as I did in 1983. I recommend it.

Kindergarten

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One night years ago listening to a right-wing talk show host, I heard a caller take a tack away from the usual futile arguments and instead gently chide the man for his childish ideas. His theme went something like this:

You people act like you’re still in the sandbox where might makes right and if you don’t get your way you stomp everything into oblivion. I try not to get too exercised about it, I figure eventually you’ll all grow up — maybe not in my lifetime, but eventually. That is if you don’t manage to blow up the whole planet in a fit of pique.

When a child reaches a certain age, like 3 or 4 maybe, he or she is introduced to the idea that everybody gets along better if we share the things we like, not grab and hoard them all for ourselves. Even if we’re big and strong enough to get away with taking things away from other people, we really end up happier and more relaxed if we share, not fighting and fending off others all the time.

This idea is a complex one, and doesn’t make sense at first glance to a 3-year-old. In the early stages there needs to be some enforcement, some coercion if you will, in order to test the validity of this proposition and give it a chance to play out. This process usually takes years. For some it never really takes, and those people spend their whole lives trying to grab everything they can reach. If they break the law to do it they are called “criminals,” and if they manage to skirt the law they are called “conservatives.” For most of us, we learn the wisdom of this sharing idea, but still revert occasionally to sandbox behavior.

Viewed in the larger context of the organizing principles of society, we seem to find ourselves in what I would characterize as drifting back and forth between toddler-hood and early childhood. We have all heard about sharing, and most of us agree that it’s a good idea, but we really don’t like to do it a lot of the time. We are exposed to a constant stream of print and electronic media that tells us that we need more stuff. More stuff, different stuff than what we have, we are told is what will make us popular, lovable, beautiful, exciting, and happy. Others will bow to our wishes, curry our favor, hunger for our company, and sing our praises if we only can manage to get the right stuff. So naturally we need all we can get and more — what’s with this sharing business?

And sometimes, after a few bad experiences with stuff that didn’t propel us into glory as expected, we remember the sharing lesson, and we take a break from the gerbil wheel to smell the roses. We do this as individuals, and also as a society, swinging from a focus on our own private interest to a focus on the “public interest.” Some scholars have argued a 20-year cycle to the societal swing. If you’re an optimist you hope that the swing moves gradually ever closer to the public interest as the human race “grows up.” If you’re a pessimist, or just don’t give a shit, you are left to hope that someone in high office driven mad by the lust for more stuff doesn’t manage to put a sudden end to the game.

But just as a child inevitably grows up despite everything, so too perhaps the human race will also graduate from the sandbox. In the interim, it is pretty clear from childrearing studies that beating a child, arguing with a child, or even reasoning with a young child are at best futile and at worst counter-productive. So let us act like grownups (if we are grownups), set a good example, be gentle, be patient, and maybe someday, despite everything, you [the talk show host] will grow up and the human race will grow up too.

The young man who spoke these words, clearly much younger than the host, was calm, articulate, and gently amused by the vision he was presenting. For his side, the host let him speak and I don’t remember any acrimony. The conversation left a lasting impression on me, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard a clearer explication of the human condition nor a better justification for long-run optimism.