How to Yawn #1
Who doesn’t know how to yawn?
Well, there’s yawning for beginners and there’s yawning for virtuosos.
The average yawn for human beings lasts only six seconds.
Yogis consider that pathetic.
So does a Pomeranian pup named Bella.
Ashley Geiken (“Pomeranian Breaks Record for Longest Yawn,” The Fluffington Post, 2012) wrote …
“A Pomeranian pup from Wisconsin named Bella has broken the Guinness World Record for the longest recorded yawn. Clocking in at 23 minutes and 8 seconds, Bella’s gaping maw was open so long, experts say there’s no telling how many flies may have come in or out.”
Kerry Grens (“Bigger-Brained Species Have Longer Yawns: Yawn duration also correlates with the number of cortical neurons, according to a study,” The Scientist, Oct. 5, 2016) wrote …
“In a small study of animals whose yawn durations were tabulated from YouTube videos, researchers found that the longer the yawn, the bigger the brain. Among the 24 species analyzed, mice had the shortest yawns — lasting less than a second — and humans the longest, clocking in at more than six seconds long on average.”
Human yawning ordinarily lasts for five to ten seconds.
Why bother to yawn better?
Are you ready to walk the wind?
Yawning increases bodily awareness, something sorely lacking in modern Western civilization.
The Western mind is highly visual.
Yawning is tactile, connecting us to “texture, temperature, solidity, humidity, contact, weight, pressure, force, vibration, and so on.”
Yawning also connects us to “walking, standing, sitting, lying down.
Yoga and yawning go together like a cart and pony.
The mind looks for differences.
The heart looks for similarities.
We feel with our fingers and with our hearts.
And what happens when we’re typing on a computer?
Most people lose contact with their fingers, and blend into the keyboard and computer screen.
It’s a type of astral projection, identifying with some of the outgoing breath.
Merging with the outgoing breath smooths the way to bilocation.
Radionics (instrumental biocommunication) is a limited form of biolocation.
The ego is inflated with the incoming breath.
This can be good, bad, or indifferent.
The ego is deflated with the outgoing breath.
This can also be good, bad, or indifferent.
A Yogi can take along his ego with the outgoing breath.
Most folks get sucked into The Matrix when they exhale, so their astral projection becomes like a drop of water dissolved in the ocean instead of a drop of oil traveling through the ocean.
The physical body is not confined to space-time.
The physical body is a quantum body, something the mind refuses to acknowledge.
Thinking out of the box means thinking out of space-time.
A group of us were hanging out with John Lilly at Rice University when someone asked him, “Do you astral project?”
“Yes,” he replied, “but I reduce myself to a mathematical point to eliminate drag. That way I can travel at the speed of light.”
John C. Lilly (Center of the Cyclone: Looking into Inner Space, 1972) wrote …
“The old psychic textbooks gave directions for getting into +6 by creating an astral body and an astral cord so that one can stay connected back with the physical body. This is excess baggage that one does not need. This is using up some of one’s computational machinery in a narcissistic security operation. The more efficient means of travel is in the point, without the artificial construction of a needless body on these levels (cf. R.A. Monroe’s account, bibliography).
“The same consideration holds true for the entities that one meets in state +6. There is no point in clothing them with the bodies of angels or other types of human projections. This might use up your store of computational ability, which is needed for much more profound tasks on +6.”
Adano Ley (Swami Nitty-Gritty) took it to the next level, saying …
“There is no astral projection. It’s really respiratory disengagement. The one element called breath is separate from the mechanism.”
Adano’s morning greeting often was …
“Happy new you! Are you ready to walk the wind?”