Yoga Sutras 1.9

I.K Taimni's Yoga Sutras 1.9

Sutra 1.9 acknowledges imagination.  I can’t say I like Taimni’s translation with its number of negative connotations (words like ’empty’, ‘devoid’ and ‘fancy’).  My intuition, in fact, is that it is a bad translation (biased).  Taimni wrote this for Westerners around 1960, precisely at the zenith (imho) of positivism.  Sadly, however, I do not know Sanskrit, so I can’t really go about correcting it.  Actually, I’m going to try.  My version is:

Cognition predominately aligned with and sourced in internal subjective states, processes and reflections is termed “imagination”.

Iow, imagination is primarily the result of contact with some “object” “inside” the “mind (body)”.  And if that doesn’t accord with Patanjali‘s intention, I’m fine with that.  Having read more than a few books on cognitive science and the nature of metaphor as a (the) foundation of cognition, I consider myself, and modern science in general, to be adequate to the task of defining something which isn’t going to get much treatment in the Sutras, since it is just a Vrtti, and something that is intended to be suppressed anyway.

Taimni states:

The first two categories of mental modifications exhaust all kinds of experiences in which there is some kind of contact with an object outside the mind. These may therefore be called ‘objective’ in their nature. Now we come to the other two kinds of Vrttis in which there is no such contact and the mental image is a pure creation of the mind. Here again we have two subdivisions. If the mental modification is based upon a previous experience and merely reproduces it we have a case of memory.  If it is not based upon an actual experience in the past or has nothing to correspond to in the field of actual experience but is a pure creation of the mind then it is fancy or imagination.

Taimni then acknowledges that imagination is “derived ultimately from the sensuous perceptions which we have actually experienced sometime or other, but the combinations are novel and these do not correspond to any actual experience… The two categories of memory and fancy on account of the absence of any contact with an external object which stimulates the mental image may be called ‘subjective’ in their nature.

Is there much else to say about imagination here?  There is much more to say about imagination in general.  Does it apply to the enterprise of Yoga, to the goal of inhibiting the modifications of the mind?  Hmm…  Probably.  The cognitive linguists and cognitive scientists have been discovering that pretty much all of human understanding is metaphorical in nature (from Wikipedia: Cognitive Metaphor):

In cognitive linguisticsconceptual metaphor, or cognitive metaphor, refers to the understanding of one idea, or conceptual domain, in terms of another, for example, understanding quantity in terms of directionality (e.g. “prices are rising”). A conceptual domain can be any coherent organization of human experience. The regularity with which different languages employ the same metaphors, which often appear to be perceptually based, has led to the hypothesis that the mapping between conceptual domains corresponds to neural mappings in the brain.

Or, from Wikipedia’s article on Metaphor:

Conceptual metaphor

Main article: Conceptual metaphor

Some theorists have suggested that metaphors are not merely stylistic, but that they are cognitively important as well. In Metaphors We Live By George Lakoff and Mark Johnson argue that metaphors are pervasive in everyday life, not just in language, but also in thought and action. A common definition of a metaphor can be described as a comparison that shows how two things that are not alike in most ways are similar in another important way. They explain how a metaphor is simply understanding and experiencing one kind of thing in terms of another. The authors call this concept a ‘conduit metaphor.’ By this they meant that a speaker can put ideas or objects into words or containers, and then send them along a channel, or conduit, to a listener who takes that idea or object out of the container and makes meaning of it. In other words, communication is something that ideas go into. The container is separate from the ideas themselves. Lakoff and Johnson give several examples of daily metaphors we use, such as “argument is war” and “time is money.” Metaphors are widely used in context to describe personal meaning. The authors also suggest that communication can be viewed as a machine: “Communication is not what one does with the machine, but is the machine itself.” (Johnson, Lakoff, 1980).

Another good book is The Way We Think: Conceptual Blending And The Mind’s Hidden Complexities

Why am I talking about all this?  Notice that little line in the Wikipedia quote above: “A common definition of a metaphor can be described as a comparison that shows how two things that are not alike in most ways are similar in another important way.”  Doesn’t this seem a lot like the realm of correspondence/dissimilarity in sutras 1.7 and 1.8?  Iow, we could have a perception/cognition that on one level (superficially) does not correspond with anything, but that, upon deeper (looser) examination, does.  In fact, metaphor becomes the bridge between all wrong (cartoonish) perceptions and the actual correspondences between those perceptions/cognitions and “the object”.  So, although Taimni (and perhaps Patanjali) toss imagination out the door, in fact, imagination is one way that correspondences are established between dissimilar perceptions/cognitions.  So, it would seem that imagination (of course, I may simply be conflating imagination with metaphor) is a road or a doorway from Viparyaya to Pramana…

Lastly, although I am not going to say why, I recommend reading the following blog post as well as all the comments:

Reflections on the Red Book by Carl Jung

Moleskin Soft-Cover Notebook Review

I wanted a larger page-size notebook that nevertheless was portable (ie, didn’t have too many pages).  I went to Target and saw the Moleskin notebooks.  I figured, ahh, Moleskin, that’ll do.  But the price was absurdly high.  18.95 for 2  48 page notebooks (96 sides).  The nice thing about them is that they are well bound (by that I mean, they are bound like a high quality book [sadly, I don’t know the terminology, so a picture and comparison will have to do]):

Good binding (will last through time):

well bound


Cheap binding (pages will fall out on heavy use):

poorly bound

I didn’t like my color options (red/burgundy, sky blue/baby blue, purple/pink [or something like that, only the red/bergundy I’m sure of).  I wanted more earthy tones.  But I went with them (burgundy/red).  I like notebooks with bendy covers and hate those with stiff cardboard covers.  I am the sort of person who is willing to pay premiums for quality.

For the most part, I was happy with the notebooks.  I used the burgundy notebook first because it was, of the lot, it was the only color I liked.

However, this review is being written because, in the end, the notebooks are not worth the money.  $18.95!!! for two (48 sheet) notebooks, so I expect a lot, which is to say, I expect them to be quality along a number of dimensions (beyond paper quality and binding).  Regard the cover separating from itself:

moleskin notebooks aint worth the money


This is after about 1 month.  I wasn’t gentle with the thing, but neither was I rough.  Basically, I put it in and took it out of my backpack each day.  I mean, I’ve only written on 24 pages (12 sheets), or so.

For the price, I expected more.  I won’t be buying these again.  And I’ll leave a review on Amazon too.  Way too pricey.  For this level of quality, I’d expect half the price.  For the price I paid, I expect this sort of thing to not happen.  I’ll pay for quality, but I refuse to pay for brands.  Full stop.

Yoga Sutras 1.8

I.K. Taimni's Yoga Sutra 1.8

Sutra 1.8 concerns false conceptions that do not conform to the reality of what they are supposed to represent.  Taimni cites mirages as a common example but emphasizes that Viparyaya are not nearly so exceptional as “mirage” may suggest:

Wherever there is lack of correspondence between our conception of a thing and the thing itself we have really an instance of Viparyaya.

On the one hand, there isn’t much to say about Viparyaya, as the language of the translation is quite straightforward.  However, there is an aspect of Viparyaya I want to explore in relation to Pramana.  Taimni states:

But it should be remembered that in Viparyaya we are not concerned with the correctness or definiteness of our mental impressions but only with the correspondence between the object and the mental image formed in our mind. In partial darkness our impression of an object may be blurred but if it corresponds with the object it is not a case of Viparyaya.

There is something here that I want to tease out.  Between Pramana and Viparyaya there is a distinction asserted between partial-perception/correspondence and dissimilarity.  If I am looking into the sun and I am largely blinded, but I see a silhouette in the shape of a person, and in fact there is a so-shaped person in front of me, then my perception is Pramana.  If, however, it is really a cactus, then I am in Viparyaya.  At least to a certain degree.  I am wrong about the nature of the silhouette, but not about the fact that there is something in front of me.  If the sunlight interacted with my eyes in such a way as to create the illusion of a silhouette when in fact there was nothing but open range in front of me, then I would be in a deeper sort of Viparyaya.

That’s interesting to me.   What is essential about the difference between these two scenarios.  This, I think, is an important aspect of Sutras 1.7 and 1.8.  Iow, what is the difference between “right and wrong” knowledge?  In truth, this is a very subtle thing.  Can you sense the subtlety?  Essentially, the difference comes down to our orientation towards our perception.  We can see something “darkly” and be in either pramana or viparyaya, depending on our own belief concerning what we perceive.

If, when seeing a silhouette, we believe there is actually a black, 2 dimensional object in front of us, then we are in viparyaya.  If, rather, we believe that, because of the lighting and the nature of eyes and whatever,  there is something in front of us that is creating the black, 2-dimensional shape, then we are in pramana.  If that something is a person and we think it is a person that we are “deeper” in Pramana.  Since there seems to be degrees of Pramana and Viparyaya, one could legitimately wonder what are the extremes?  Condition your experimental thoughts with the notion that all of what we are describing is Vrtti, modifications of the mind.

Again, we can perceive something incompletely but still be oriented towards that perception correctly.  It is a fact that all perception is a cartoonish re-presentation of reality.  Getting to the point: if we believe our perception is accurate in every detail, we are plainly wrong.  But characterizing the opposite end of the spectrum is more difficult.  What can we believe about our perception that is wholly true?  That it is wholly false is, I think, false (Viparyaya), for there are correspondences.  In fact, it is just as accurate to say that every perception is wholly true.  We are having that perception.  It is real.  The stick that looks bent when half is under water does truly look bent.  There is a perception of a bent stick.  That is wholly true and the perception is, at heart, existing and real.

Many years ago I had an insight.  There is the philosophical tradition, historically sourced with the Indian concept of Maya & Plato’s allegory of the Cave, in which one imagines that they are a brain in a vat whose perceptions (about absolutely everything) are being manipulated by a scientist, or whatever (Descartes version involved an evil demon).  In this manner, everything they see is false.  According to Descartes, the only thing such a being could be certain of is that “I am thinking, therefore I am” (Cogito Ergo Sum).  The Matrix played with a similar notion.  I would always hear people say that the experiences of a such a being were “fake” or “not real” (philosophers are typically more careful with words, I’m talking about laypeople).  And this is what drew my contrary insight.  Those experiences aren’t “fake” at all.  The thinking, perceiving being is really having them.  What is (potentially) fake, what would be Viparyaya, is an orientation of the thinking, perceiving being towards those thoughts and perceptions that asserts that the perceptions correspond to “what is really happening”.

But even a statement like that is riddled with subtlety.  Because the perception is really happening.  What is it that isn’t happening?  If I am having the experience of walking in the desert on a sunny day, but in reality I am a brain in a vat being “fed” that experience, then there are a few considerations:

  • I am really having that experience (how could I not be having an experience with the qualities of the experience I am having?  The question is almost nonsensical in light of the nature of the meaning of the word “experience” [Kant’s analytic judgement a priori].)
  • The experience corresponds with something outside itself
    • It does not correspond with its content, which is a solar body and the surface of a planetary body and the presence of an atmosphere and a biosphere and my physical body, et cetera.
    • It does correspond with whatever “logic” goes into creating those experiences.  Perhaps, speaking contemporaneously, the scene corresponds to compiled software logic represented as bits in some sort of computer.

This highlights a fact (again): all experience corresponds absolutely with reality.  All experience is absolutely true.  What can or can not correspond with reality, what can or can not be “true”,  is our beliefs about our experiences.  Specifically, our beliefs about how our experiences correspond with reality.  Even our beliefs are experienced, and so, at one level, are true and explicable, while, at another level can be false.

It becomes interesting to ask, what sort of beliefs can actually correspond with reality?  Things are what they are.  On one level, everything that is, is.  Absurd statements exist.  What about them doesn’t?  Their “referent”.  What are referents?  What is determinism?  What is free will?  What is “correspondence” between “belief” and “reality”?

I don’t think I have answers for these questions.  But maybe I do?  Belief seems to be the mother of all “Viparyaya”.  What is “belief”?  What are we really justified in believing?  What are degrees of belief?  No doubt Descartes believed all sorts of things beyond “I am thinking, therefore I am”.  In fact, his whole project was to push back against the skeptics who said nothing could be believed.  Yet he’s most famous for seemingly asserting that only one thing can be truly believed.  The foundational belief, if you will.  Can something more be built on this belief?

With Heidegger, perhaps we have realized an important question.  I am going to quote from his “Introduction To Metaphysics” one of my favorite passages of all time.  However, my favorite translation is the Yale University Press version by Ralph Manheim which is out of print (not available with Amazon’s “Look Inside”) and my version is packed up since I just moved (I’ll update all this later when I get the book outta the box).  My favorite translation being unavailable, I am going to quote the one translation I can get a hold of (Amazon look inside) but with a substitution.  I’ll demarcate the substitution with brackets and (to avoid interrupting the flow) I will put what this new translation offers in its place afterwards:

[Why is there something rather than nothing?]  That is the question.  Presumably it is no arbitrary question.  “[Why is there something rather than nothing?]”–This is obviously the first of all questions.  Of course, it is not the first question in the chronological sense.  Individuals as well as peoples ask many questions in the course of their historical passage through time.  They explore, investigate , and test many sorts of things before they run into the question “[Why is there something rather than nothing?]”  Many never run into this question at all, if running into the question means not only hearing and reading the interrogative sentence as uttered, but asking the question, that is, taking a stand on it, posing it, compelling oneself into the state of this questioning.

And yet, we are each touched once, maybe even now and then, by the concealed power of this question, without properly grasping what is happening to us.  In great despair, for example, when all weight tends to dwindle away from things and the sense of things grows dark, the question looms.  Perhaps it strikes only once, like the muffled tolling of a bell that resounds into Dasein [beingness, existence, being there] and gradually fades away.  The question is there in heartfelt joy, for then all things are transformed and surround us as if for the first time, as if it were easier to grasp that they were not, rather than that they are, and are as they are.  The question is there in a spell of boredom, when we are equally distant from despair and joy, but when the stubborn ordinariness of beings lays open a wasteland in which it makes no difference to us whether beings are or are not — and then, in a distinctive form, the question resonates once again: [Why is there something rather than nothing?]

The Gregory Fried translation above substitutes [Why are there beings at all instead of nothing] for [Why is there something rather than nothing].  Both have their weight, I just prefer the one I do.


  • Pramana – Accurate Knowledge
  • Viparyaya – Inaccurate Knowledge
  • Vrtti – Modifications of mind

Yoga Sutras 1.7

I.K. Taimni's Yoga Sutras 1.7

Essentially, Sutra 1.7 is about knowledge which corresponds to “the facts”: “Right Knowledge” or Pramana.  This is opposed to Sutra 1.8 which discusses “knowledge” that contradicts “the facts”: “Wrong Knowledge” or Viparyaya.  Read another way, Patanjali is giving an example of “right knowledge”.  Namely, the division of knowledge into accurate and inaccurate is itself an example of accurate knowledge (YMMV?).

But this sutra is not so much about the dichotomy between right knowledge and wrong knowledge as it is a classification of the sorts of Right Knowledge that there are.  The sutra cites three hierarchically related forms of “right knowledge”.  Direct Perception, Inference and Testimony.

I have put off commenting on this Sutra for a long time because I wanted to include Western epistemological distinctions.  Finally, however, I’m not going to do that (at least now).  Rather, I’d like to simply explore Taimni’s commentary (which I find flawed) and offer some general reflections on the boundaries between the three types of right knowledge enumerated and the nature of the cognizer’s relation to the “object” (about which hiser knowledge is right or wrong [accurate or inaccurate]).

First off, Taimni’s commentary.

Pramana which may be translated approximately as right knowledge or knowledge related to facts, comprises all those experiences in which the mind is in direct or indirect contact with the object of the senses at the time and the mental perception corresponds with the objects. Although three sources of right knowledge are mentioned in the Sutra and only in one (Pratyaksa) there is direct contact with the object, this does not mean that there is no contact with the object in the other two. The contact in these two cases is indirect, through some other object or person.

I like that, mostly, but then he fails (Imho):

A simple illustration will make this point clear. Suppose you see your car coming to your door. You recognize it at once. This knowledge is, of course, Pratyaksa. Now, if you are sitting in your room and hear the familiar sound of your car in front of your house you recognize it at once as your car. Here your knowledge is based on contact with the object but the contact is indirect and involves the element of inference. Now suppose again you neither see nor hear the car but your servant comes and says that your car is at the door. Here again the contact with the object is indirect but your knowledge is based on testimony.

The issue I have with the above is how sight is given primacy over hearing.  Now, of course, this is a fact of the human organism (excepting exceptions such as the blind), but it is accidental, not fundamental.  Calling hearing less direct the sight really seems to miss the point, to me.  We have waves of light or we have waves of sound (simplistically speaking) one “enters” the ears the other the eyes.  According to my German Sheperd, sound is richer than sight and smell is richer than sound.  The light is no more direct than the sound and is just as subject to delusion.  I’m going to leave that at that, and just come up with a better “simple illustration”.

Consider driving the above car.  While driving there are all sorts of directly perceived events and objects that inform your moment to moment adjustments aimed at keeping your car moving from A to B.  Let’s say I am driving down the interstate.  I see the brake lights of the car ahead of me flash on and I see my own car quickly approaching the rear end of that car.  I directly perceive this state of affairs and hopefully I react in time to avoid running into it.  Then, I wonder why that vehicle did that.  I drive a Chevette and the car ahead of me is a Humvee, so I can’t actually see anything in front of it.  However, I remember seeing a car coming from the other direction flash its brights.  Knowing as I do the “rules of the road”, I infer that the car in front of me was slowing down to avoid passing an idling cop car going faster than the posted speed limit (since we were both crusing at 10 miles over the speed limit [now you know this is a thought experiment because a Chevette is never going to cruise 10 miles over the limit on an interstate… {and a Humvee is never only going to cruise 10 miles over… haha}]).  I make this inference based on a testimony (of the driver of the car going the other direction).  All this falls under the category of Pramana only if in fact the car in front of me did slam on its brakes to slow down to the speed limit because of a belief concerning the presence of a cop up ahead.  My direct perception is essentially unassailable in this case, but my inference is assailable and so is the testimony, because maybe that other car merely saw a fragment of some white board under a bridge and perceived incorrectly (viparyaya) that it was a cop.  Or, again, maybe there was a cop but the car going the other direction flashed its brights because the driver was struggling with their cat and knocked the brights knob accidentally while trying to prevent the cat from getting on the dashboard.  Everything on our side of the road seemed Pramana, but in fact, there was a disconnect between our conceptions and reality.

This brings up an interesting consideration.  At what point does direct perception become inference?  Truth is, according to neuroscience, all perception is inference.  The brain is doing an amazing amount of processing of subtle cues to come up with “what we perceive”.  Our perception of depth has so much to do with inferring spatial relationships from gradations of shadow and relative sizes and color relationships.  This is why Necker Cubes and Ames Rooms give the experiences they do.  They deliberately play with the very sensations that the brain uses to infer what we ultimately experience as our “direct perception” of an environment/object.

The difference between my simple illustration and Taimni’s is that mine bases inference on “preexisting knowledge” and is conceptually arrived at.  In Taimni’s example, the inference is still just raw sensation turned into perception “automagically” by the brain.

I spoke of “direct perception” really being “inference”.  Could “direct perception” also really be “testimony”?  Well… could we not consider the things offered up, parsed and seasoned, by the brain to be the “testimony” of our senses?  I think so.  Our senses are, on the one hand, objective measuring devices subject to the laws of physics and typically outside our “influence”.  We just trust what they tell us… (or we develop a healthy skepticism that feeds back into a process that digs into the sensation-building-blocks of perception… [and frankly, this injection of intelligence into the senses is a key component of mature perception that transforms sensation from being passive to active…]).  I understand that I am playing loose with brain/experience dichotomies, but I can’t delve into that here, else this post’ll lose focus, and anyway, I’m sure you know what I mean…

And in that sense, then, these three categories are just helpful categorizations, rather than true distinctions.  And Taimni kind of acknowledges this (he doesn’t really explicitly address how they are ranges along a single continuum but perhaps he considers this obvious since they are types of a single concept):

Knowledge of the Pramana type may be based partly on one and partly on another of these three sources but if it corresponds with facts, it belongs to this type.

The condition that defines whether a “piece of knowledge” belongs to this or that of the three categories of Pramana really has to do with the nature of the relationship between the cognizer and the object being cognized.  In what way is the cognizer connected to the object?  Is it through his own senses?  Through conceptual inferences based on past experience combined with the senses?  Or is it based on the testimony of another person who has had some kind of contact with the object?

And just to flex these new conceptual muscles, I’ll take the opportunity to point out that the reception of a testimony requires the standard inferences involved with direct perception, of, for instance, the sound of the voice of the testifier (perhaps we misinferred a key word and so the testimony as understood is not as was intended…).  So it just keeps going ’round and ’round like a vortex of mind.  Maturation involves “getting good at it”.  Aging involves “losing it anyway”.


  • Pramana – Accurate, externally sparked modifications of the mind
  • Viparyaya – Inaccurate, externally sparked modifications of the mind

Tucson Wonder 2

The second (first) in a series of photos from Tucson.

dusty sun

There was something magical about looking up this incline.  Then I walked it, ’cause I’m like that.

desert paths


tucson dawn

cactus on a rockface

saguaros anyone

I wouldn’t be surprised if Treebeard started intoning a poem, slowly.  But actually, a Javelina (that’s a desert pig) lives in there, but I couldn’t get a picture.

treebeard or a cousin

weathered root

An odd trough I found in a wash.

weathered trough

Looked even more like a Necker Cube before my crappy camera transformed it into this.

natures necker cube

Poopy, the Persian.  Yes, her name is Poopy.

poopy the persian

 Pavlov!  Look at those eyes (or that one, anyway).

pavlov's sensitivity

Desert Rain, the Czechoslovakian German Sheperd.  She guards.  Just look at those data-collecting ears.



I have a 1981 Diesel Chevette.  An unlikely car with 54 horsepower that gets about 42 miles per gallon.  On Monday, heading home, turning the key lit up the dash, but turning it further resulted in power failure.

I thought maybe it was the battery, so I replaced it.  That worked, although everything was very corroded.  I made a note to myself to change the cables soon.  That night, despite the new battery, I had another power failure.  Fiddling with the connections earned me a start.

The next morning nothing would earn me that start.

So, I managed to get to O’Reilly’s and buy some new cables and connectors.  So now you know.

But anyway, my point has to do with while I was replacing the cables.  That involved removing the positive cable from the starter, as well as some auxiliary line to a relay.  And too, the negative from its various grounds.

Simple enough, in words.  But working with matter in the real world is never so easy.  Firstly, I didn’t have all the tools required.  I had a socket wrench, but all my sockets except 2 1/2s  and a 14mm were for a smaller wrench.  So, I had to use a crescent wrench.  But the only crescent wrench available small enough to fit in the spaces was really cheap and kept changing size on me.  The starter was way back in the darkness and I basically had to contort myself to both fit my hand back there and my head down there in such a way as to be able to put the wrench on the nut and see what I was doing.  It literally took me 30 minutes or more to get one nut off.  I’m out of practice, but I imagine it would have been challenging for most people.  Ultimately, it required of me a sort of surgery-room intensity, all the while leaning over precariously with one foot sometimes in the air to counter balance myself.

Like I’ve always noticed working on cars, it was really hard on my lower back and my shoulders kept trying to store tons of tension.

Along the way, however, I realized that I was doing Yoga (very poorly).  All of a sudden, activity snapped into place and I started assuming asanas and then modifying them as required by the physical constraints of the problem.  I started thinking about the problem at a different level.  Not just, “fixing the car” or “doing Yoga” but, doing Yoga while fixing the car.

So, I need to get at that nut, eh?  Okay, Virabhadrasana 3 (Warrior 3).  Go at it from this angle, then that one, then this leg, then that one.  That’s just a simple example.  There were mudras for the hands, because that nut, I had to start it with my fingers, because the 24 degrees I could turn the crescent wrench in that space were inadequate.  That required a lot of coordination between my fingers and my shoulders and waist.  Every motion became something done with purpose.

Anyway, I put the cable on wrong and it touched the line coming from the ignition, so I had to remove the hard-to-remove bolt again, although it took me half the time, and I had to rearrange all the cables so that the cable coming from the battery was as far from the ignition cable as possible.  In those spaces, and I really question the beneficence of the engineers responsible, that meant about the skinniest squeezed measure of my pinky.  But, putting the battery cable in that position reduced even further the wiggle room for the crescent wrench that already had been so cramped before.  24 degrees became something like 12 degrees, and there were tons more opportunity for the wrench to change size (in retrospect, I should have taped the size adjusting wheel in place…)

Attaching the positive cable the second time took about an hour.  There were other complications, but there is no point get into the minutia of that project.

We can do yoga anywhere.  The shower is a great place, too.  I don’t mean doing some Yoga while in the shower.  I mean ‘showering yoga’.  Asanas that involve the movements used to clean the body.  The shower is maybe the best place to have a good sequence of motions with purpose that you do on a daily basis.  Holds can be done on the rinsing.  A nice back bend to rinse the hair.  Forward bend to wash the feet.  Prayer hands behind the back to wash the back.  Stand on one leg to wash the other.  I’m sure you get more of the picture than you probably wanted.

But hey, there’s so many things to do, we best find those things we can do simultaneously, not in the sense of multitasking, a little here, a little there (fake simultaneity), but rather, in the sense of amalgamating purposes into multifaceted actions (true simultaneity).

Call it synchronicity.