Ancient Egyptian Yoga?

Yoga asana from Egyptian Hieroglyph

The practice of yoga is currently associated with India. And it is certainly true that an unbroken chain of teachers and students, along with an enormous library of texts, has survived in that country. Today, the word yoga has become synonymous with India and, in the West, with some of the great teachers of the past century such as Pattabhi Jois and B.K. Iyengar.

But the yoga tradition itself does not claim any nationality. Indeed, pointing to the spiritual roots of yoga, many masters have claimed it to be universal. To understand this assertion, one needs to examine yoga’s roots. Originally, Indian yoga was practiced in the forests by mendicants who had renounced the world. Some of these forest-dwelling yoga lineages still exist—one, called the Nath sect—remains popular in India.

From a carving in an Egyptian temple

Thus, it can be understood that, in a general sense, anyone who retreats from human society and into solitude to engage in spiritual practices is doing yoga. In all traditional cultures, whether in ancient Europe, the Middle East or China, yogis, by different names, would have been familiar.

In the early period of Egypt, during the Old Kingdom, Egypt was referred to as Kemet, or simply Kmt, which means “the Black land.” The inhabitants called themselves "remetch en Kermet", which means the "People of the Black Land." The term refers to the rich soil found in the Nile Valley and Delta. The great temples along the Nile, built during that time, showed, in hieroglyphic texts, a stunning number of persons in familiar yoga poses.

Kemetic yoga, or African yoga, focuses on breath-work and meditation, and aligns itself with the spiritual beliefs of the ancient Egyptians. It combines physical exercise, meditation, self-philosophy and healing through the stimulation and movement of essential life energy throughout the body. The concept of life energy, called prana in Sanskrit, was widespread throughout the classical world, in Greece, India, China and Egypt.

The modern version of the ancient Kemetic system was developed from primary research conducted by Dr. Asar Hapi and Elvrid Lawrence (Yirser Ra Hotep) during the 1970s. Kemetic yoga is gaining interest, in mostly the Black American community, with more studies and books being published, such as those authored by Dr. Muata Ashby, and with classes being offered in yoga studios in America.

Mohan Ashtakala is the author of "The Yoga Zapper," (www.yogazapper.com) published by Books We Love (www.bookswelove.com)

The Ultimate Challenge...by Sheila Claydon

One of the important characters in my book Remembering Rose is an elderly woman, a grandmother, who uses a wheelchair and who is on the downward journey towards dementia. She has chosen to spend her final days in a care home despite having a large and loving family.

...so in the end she went into a nursing home. For the first week we thought she'd be heartbroken and we all felt guilty, but she took to it like a duck to water. Within days she seemed to have forgotten she had ever lived anywhere else, and Hester, who has always been the bossy one, set up a family visiting rota, so that rarely a day goes by without one or other of us calling in to see her.  She likes that, mainly because we take her chocolate biscuits and wine. Even at ninety-four years old she is still partial to a glass of chardonnay at six o'clock.

Not everything about this old lady is a figment of my imagination. A ninety-three year old friend, who has recently died, checked herself into a care home when she no longer felt able to manage alone. She had daughters who loved her and would have cared for her to the end but she wouldn't let them. She had no intention of being a burden to anyone, least of all herself. Instead she downsized her life but not the way she lived it. She still socialised, still went on holiday, still went to church and to Bible class, and still poured herself and anyone who happened to be visiting a glass of wine to the very end. She was also slim and elegant with immaculate hair and nails despite being registered blind. She loved company, especially dogs, who she favoured over her human visitors, and was the best listener I've ever met. She was totally my heroine for many years and if I am lucky enough to live to her great age I want to be just like her.

Nor is she the only one. I have another friend who is almost ninety. She is very deaf, is in constant pain, and can only walk with the aid of a frame or a stick because her body has become twisted and lop-sided with age, but none of this stops her from being a demon Bridge player, a welcoming and gracious hostess to any and all visitors, and a wonderful raconteur. She still manages her own home too, although with increasing difficulty, because she values her independence above almost everything else. Although she has lived a very interesting and eventful life, to the unknowing onlooker she is a tiny bird of a woman, overtaken by old age and fragility. Only when they notice the subtly coloured and carefully curled hair, the plucked eyebrows and the lipstick do they realise she was once something far more, and still is if they would only take the time to listen.

To quote the great Bette Davis, old age is no place for cissies, and it's true. Age brings aches and pains, chronic illness, the loss of loved ones, and being sidelined by the young. However, she also said, 'The key to life is accepting challenges. Once someone stops doing this he's dead.' And that is what my dear friends have done. They have accepted the challenges of old age, which in their case includes illness, frailty and widowhood, and decided that life is not only still worth living but is worth cherishing as well.

In old age not everyone is lucky enough to have sufficient money to be comfortable or the mental capacity to face life head on, and even for those who can it is still the ultimate challenge. There is no one stronger than a very old person who has seen it all, however, and their resilience is something to aspire to. The grandmother in Remembering Rose, although a very different character to my friends, has something to offer the heroine that nobody else can and she doesn't care who she has to inconvenience to do it.

We live in an era that considers youth and beauty two of its most valued commodities. It's a time where the younger generation knows little and understands less about the way life was in the recent past let alone almost one hundred years ago. Such ignorance is an incalculable loss. Listening to very old people is a history lesson in itself, and watching them face the challenges of their ageing bodies  and minds with stoicism and wisdom is a lesson worth learning because one day it will be us.

Never ignore an old person because hidden in their silences and half forgotten memories is a rich history, and if you listen to them you will be able to see the years fall away as they remember what the world was like when they were young.

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Vacation I Have Had by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

As you read this post I will be on a bus tour from Rome to London, the second bus tour of my sixty-six day long visit to Europe. How did this vacation come about? Well, it started three years ago when my dragon boat team, Angels Abreast from Nanaimo, B.C., found out that the next Breast Cancer Survivor International Dragon Boat Festival was going to be held in Florence, Italy. Although we voted to attend the festival, eventually it was decided not to go as a team. Since I had already begun planning my trip, I put out feelers to other breast cancer survivor teams who wanted to attend but didn’t have enough paddlers to fill a boat. I was picked up by Sunshine Dragons Abreast, a team from the Sunshine Coast.

     My husband originally planned on going with me and we discussed other countries we wanted to see, but he had to back out because of his health. By this time I had decided that since I was already in Europe, I might as well visit as many countries as I could. I didn’t want to travel alone so I asked the members of Sunshine Dragons if anyone was interested in travelling with me. One woman, Ev, agreed. I also spoke with a fellow employee, Heather, and she and her sister, Beverly, hopped on board but couldn’t join us until the beginning of the Rome to London tour on July 9.
     The festival was from July 5 to 9 so I began looking at tours and cruises before and after those dates. Ev and I picked a 16 day Spain, Portugal, and Morocco bus tour beginning June 15. Then we decided to spend three days in Milan before going to Florence. At the end of the festival there we headed to Rome.
     After this bus tour through Italy, Switzerland, and France, and ending in London, Ev is leaving to do a tour of Denmark, while Heather, Beverly and I plan on spending eighteen days backpacking and riding trains to Brussels, Luxembourg, Cologne, and Amsterdam, and then fly to Copenhagen. We will meet Ev in that city to take an eleven day cruise of the Baltic Sea. One of the highlights of that will be a two day visit to St. Petersburg, Russia.
     I wish the planning had gone as smoothly as it sounds, but that is how attending a five day international breast cancer survivor dragon boat festival in Florence morphed into a sixty-six day visit to Europe. And this isn’t the first time that has happened to me.
     In 2007, an international festival was held in Coloundra, Queensland, Australia. Angels Abreast attended the five days festival. Afterwards, the team split up, some going to New Zealand, some touring the interior and some, my group, spent three weeks sightseeing along the eastern coast ending in Sydney to see the Opera House, climb the Harbour Bridge, and go out to the Great Barrier Reef. Then we spend a week in Fiji.
     I missed the festival in Peterborough, Ontario, but in 2014, the festival was held in Sarasota, Florida. Rather than fly there with the team, do a little touring and fly home, I decided I wanted to see some of the country between the Pacific Ocean, where I live, and the Atlantic Ocean. So my husband and I bought a motorhome and spent four weeks sightseeing on our way to Sarasota and five weeks sightseeing on our way home.
     I could go on about all the other trips I have taken, like the nine week my husband and I took in our motorhome across Canada in 2017 to celebrate our country’s 150^th birthday, but that can wait for another post.
     My novel, Romancing the Klondike, is set in the Yukon, a place I have travelled to twice and hope to visit again in the next couple of years.
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