Marvin

I was informed today that Marvin Braxton, a student of Mr. Nyland and long-time member of our group in Warwick, passed away last night after suffering a heart attack on December 19th.

Marvin was a lovely man I got to know while attending Friday group meetings at the Barn. His wife Beverly was my daughter's third grade teacher; his son Symeon is in the group in Philadelphia. In these recent years my family has somehow felt affinity to his from a distance.

Many folks were inspired by Marvin's quiet and warm demeanor, gentle spirit, and wonderfully detailed stories about personal Work in life, which he sometimes shared in meetings with simplicity, humor and humility that touched everyone present. I found a few photos of him in the assortment I took during our fall 2007 Intensive. Farewell good brother, and blessings to your kin who walk this earth in the radiance of your smile.

The Sphinx

Occasionally I continue a series of posts for friends in the Gurdjieff groups and other traditions. Bystanders can listen in, or surf back to play-by-plays of the psychotic world (always just a convenient mouseclick away).

Over the years I made little bits of notes on Work experiences, remarks from teachers, questions and reflections. Lately I've dug up old notebooks, slips of paper containing spidery scribblings from early days. What good they do lying around in a desk drawer may be a few atoms less than bringing them into light of an obscure blog like this one. If anything helps you, that is at least a few atoms real.

Mrs. March -- Sitting 1/1/83

The idea of the Sphinx as a symbol which I take into myself. The Bull representing constant force and application. . . Wings are for me in having always the concern or vision of non-ordinaryness, the higher possibilities. How to get Work from just in my head -- into the blood, into the fibre. The Sphinx is a measure of myself.

In Beelzebub's Tales, the Sphinx is described as "an allegorical being, each part of whose planetary body was composed of a part of the planetary body of some definite form of being existing there. . .who, according to the crystallized notions of the three-brained beings there, had to perfection one or another being-function."

Those parts included: trunk of a Bull; legs of a Lion; wings of an Eagle; breasts of a Virgin. Strength, courage, vision, impartial love. And in totality (within the society Akhaldan for which this sphinx was an emblem), it was known as Conscience.

A Generous Man

With so much false information on the internet about Gurdjieff, accounts from people who were close to him are good medicine. From T Tchekovitch: *

"Since I was often with him at different times of the day, I saw in an intimate way aspects of his life that most of his pupils, who only attended the evening groups, never knew about.

"Mr. Gurdjieff often did his own shopping when he took his morning stroll. As soon as he returned, he started working in the kitchen. During this time, he would not receive any of his pupils, and the door opening onto the main staircase remained closed.

"It was quite another story, however, at the back staircase. One had to see it to believe it: from the bottom of the stairs to the top, there was a long procession of beggars, parasites, and the like. One had his bowl, another his tin plate, still another an old pot, all coming solemnly to receive a full ration of soup accompanied by some kind words. Mr Gurdjieff himself served from enormous cooking pots while asking after the health of everyone, not forgetting those who could not come because of illness. When he found that someone was sick, he would say, “Well, now let’s give him something special!” and, according to the latest information he received about him, he would fill the container with some dish or other that he had prepared.

"Here was an old woman who came for herself and also for her husband, who could no longer walk; there, an undernourished and sick man who said he was unable to work; then children from a large poverty-stricken family; and the concierge from a neighbouring building, who had looked after a bedridden tenant on the seventh floor for a long time. . .

"The scene was repeated every morning, the procession usually ending about one o’clock, sometimes only to start again in the evening. Mr Gurdjieff also prepared enormous quantities of food to share with his pupils and others, who regularly frequented his apartment. His table was a veritable cornucopia, for no day passed without parcels of food arriving from all over the world; the south of France, Spain, Turkey, Australia, the Americas, and even Africa. Yet, if there was no one to eat with, he would often choose not to eat at all."

* Gurdjieff: A Master in Life; Tcheslaw Tchekovitch

The Portable 'Obligatory'

At Movements* class last week, the instructor asked us to assume the initial position of First Obligatory. It is a posture of standing at attention, with arms at the sides.

We waited for her command to proceed to the next positions, but she had us stay and inhabit that one standing posture for a while. Then we dropped it and went to work on another Movement.

Several times during the class, we returned to the first position of First Obligatory. Each time she invited a deeper exploration of what it is to just simply stand here on this earth.

I won't go into all that was said, but the indication was that we could be educated by this posture; and that a deepening connection with it could be taken into life, like when one is waiting on line in the grocery store or at the bank.

The following weekend, I had to attend a two-day tournament in Maryland with my daughter's basketball team. The event required long periods spent standing as a spectator. Immersed in dense crowds; sweating in the stuffy hot atmosphere with massive noise assaulting from everywhere, it was a challenge just to stay focused, much less enthusiastic.

Wishing for deeper presence at these moments, I found myself returning to the posture of the First Obligatory -- arms down at sides; knees softened, shoulder blades loosely together and down so that the chest was not pressuring the solar plexus.

I have practiced this Obligatory and others from the Gurdjieff canon on and off for 29 years; they invite more mystery and sacred wonder as time goes on. Here I find a world of quiet little details involved in simply standing; my attention begins to embrace it and I am grounded in the present moment, in which everything inside and outside is new. How much time in 50 years of life have I spent simply standing, unaware of this miracle?

*Sacred dances and exercises taught by G.I. Gurdjieff.

Open Treasure Chest

For the new year, here are a few posts honoring newness and creation, highlighting some works of friends encountered in the Gurdjieff groups and other channels.

I met Michael and Shelley Buonaiuto in Warwick NY in 1979. They have worked as original ceramic artists and sculptors for over 30 years, concentrating on myriad renditions of people and the human form.

Their site is chock full of visual delights; some will surprise you.

Below, behold the Ark of Noah, hand-carved and decorated by artisans of the Rochester Folk Art Guild.


For many years at the Guild, adult community members took turns doing 'nightwatch' -- seven days a week, two shifts per evening, 10 p.m. - 2 a.m. and 2 - 6 a.m. You had to take a flashlight and visit each workshop to see that heaters weren't left on and that everything was in order. Whenever my stint came, I always loved going into the pottery shop to investigate the racks of newly fired vessels in porcelain, earthenware and stoneware -- some of the most beautiful pottery you can imagine.

To this day, Guild artisans don't sign their own names on their work; it's all signed "Rochester Folk Art Guild." This is in keeping with tradition of the craft guilds of old, and reflects that the creative forces going into a vase or any work of craft go beyond those of the individual maker.

Turning back to artists who don't mind signing their own work. . . Below, "Triple Incalmo Bowl with Antelope," an 11" x 12" vessel by glassworker Gary Genetti.