Bigger than the sum of its parts

Sometimes the universe just wants to tell you something. I’m sure you’ve all noticed those weeks when every single yoga class you go to
is teaching the same thing… as though some greater energy is pulling all of these different strings together to tell you “work on hanuman,”
or “get over your fear of inversions.”

Right now, it’s not hanuman or inversions for me, but the idea that “the whole is bigger than the sum of its parts.”

Everything boils down to “om,” and that’s where the strings have been coming together. A student walked into my class the other day, and
nervously told me that she had never practiced yoga before. “Down dog” meant “stop eating table scraps” and “plank” was something that
conspiring pirates walked on. And “om” — I can only imagine how strange of an experience that is at the beginning of your first yoga class, ever.

When I first began to practice yoga, I was terrified of chanting and “om”ing. That seemed like the line between a physical practice and a spiritual practice, and that was one line I did not want to cross (oh, how things change). Each time “om” was chanted in a class, I’d sit there quietly and listen. Somewhere in my beginner-yogini state of
non-spirituality, I realized that the chanting of “om” in class goes beyond a personal spiritual connection. It signifies that you are there as a part of a group, that you are not just contorting your body within the boundaries of your mat, but you are contorting your body in the same way (more or less) as a community of people. And regardless of how discordant an “om” sounds at the beginning of class, there is always a bit more harmony at the end.

The “om” that starts within you is your own sound, your own personal connection to something greater. But somewhere in the midst of a really good group “om” you lose your own sound, and you fall into the vibration of the group, and realize that the community is vibrating, that you are part of something bigger.

I have been reading (a few years late, I know) Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma, as every good non-purist vegetarian, farmers-market-loving New Yorker should. Earlier today he introduced
me to the word “holon,” which apparently was created not too long ago from Greek roots to signify an “entity that from one perspective
appears a self-contained whole, and from another a dependent part.” He uses it to talk about how chickens fit into a holistic farming pattern, but you can immediately see how a noun for “a part of a
mutualistic relationship” is important. Along those lines, the term “mutualistic relationship” is a pretty good one too. Let’s say another organism lives inside of you. There are three major directions this is going: either one entity benefits while the other
is harmed (ex: a tapeworm), both entities are just going along their own happy way without much positive or negative impact on each other, or both entities benefit from the relationship (ex: those bacteria in your intestines that help you digest food). “Holon.” I like it.

That word may have further use in my life. I volunteer as the Communications Director for the FIGMENT participatory arts events and exhibition series. One of the remarkable things that happens at FIGMENT is that you see these mutualistic relationships developing among art pieces and creative endeavors. We just released a video to
the public (at www.figmentproject.org), and in the video, our Curatorial Director Audrey Boguchwal reminded me of one of my favorite moments from last year. There was this beautiful sculpture called
HiveMind that you could sit inside throughout the entire summer. But for our three-day event, it was paired with a musical piece called Gamelatron. The pairing was incredible.

The two art pieces are each incredible and awe-worthy… but by uniting them for those few days, participants were invited to experience something that was greater than each or both pieces. I remember taking off my head-set off for a few brief moments, and being rocked into meditation by the synergy of the two art pieces (and just a few weeks ago I discovered that someone took a photo of that magical
moment). Indeed, one of the core reasons that I work on FIGMENT is because of how many people are able to discover that their own creative energy can be a part of a larger creative energy – that our
whole is bigger than, or at least different, than the sum of our
parts.

These are my musings. You don’t have to come to the same conclusions as I do, but I’ll offer you an invitation. The next time you chant “om” in a yoga class, listen for your own sound, and then listen as
you stop being able to identify which vibration is your own. And the next time you walk amidst a group of strangers (say on a city street), take the time to notice just how many people you pass. Notice that all of those other beings make up your community, that you have the opportunity to interact with each and everyone, to have some small impact on each and every one. From there… your actions are your own.