Easter, The Eclipse, and the Corona
Photograph I took of the Solar Eclipse from Blue Ridge Lake in Chattahoochee National Forest, on August 21, 2017.
“Even after all this time the sun never says to the earth, 'You owe me.' Look what happens with a love like that. It lights the whole sky.” ~ Hāfiz
Blessings to you, my friend, on this Easter Sunday. I was born on Easter, March 26, many moons ago. The date of Easter changes every year, based on the cycles of the sun and moon. It occurs on the Sunday following the first full moon, on or after the day of the vernal equinox. I have had two birthdays on Easter since my appearance on Earth, and am planning a big party for my next Easter birthday in 2062 (now you have enough clues to determine my age).
Christians celebrate the death and rebirth of Jesus on Easter. Others argue that the resurrection idea comes from older myths. If we apply science and intellectual curiosity, it is rather apparent that the stories are inspired by the cycles of the seasons that herald the death and rebirth of nature’s abundance, and longer days of sunshine. No matter the scientific stability of our own, personal, genius—most of us still find comfort in the stories.
Today I have been reflecting that springtime 2020 is a strange juxtaposition of days becoming longer and the fecundity of nature returning, while our response to Covid-19 is to go back indoors to reflect and socially isolate. It is as if Easter and Groundhog Day got mixed up; Jesus came out, saw his shadow, and decided to roll the rock back over his tomb and chill in the underworld for a few more days. In a thousand years, maybe that will be the story.
We can look at life as mundane and scientifically explained, or as a miracle with divine purpose. As a yogi, I like to ponder life from both perspectives.
What now seems like a lifetime ago, I took my (then) girlfriend to Georgia, to watch the Great American Solar Eclipse. We found a spot by Lake Blue Ridge in Chattahoochee National Forest and looked up as the sky darkened and the animals became quiet. Through solar binoculars we watched the Moon slowly cross in front of the Sun, until it perfectly covered the disc of the Sun. At that moment we could look with our naked eyes and see the Sun’s corona, the spectacular aura of plasma that surrounds the Sun.
In centuries past, it was a mystical experience to witness an eclipse. Before astronomy, we relied on stories about gods to explain natural occurrences. These gods always seemed to have human qualities, and be up to some kind of mischief. In Hindu mythology the god Vishnu, in female form as Mohini, was distributing the nectar of immortality (amrita) to the Hindu gods (devas), whose immortality had been temporarily lost. A demi-god (asura) named Rahu disguised himself as a deva so he could get the nectar. Just as Rahu took a sip, his deception was revealed by Surya and Chandra, the gods of the sun and moon. Mohini drew a sword and chopped off Rahu’s head, which had already become immortal from the amrita. The nectar had not made its way into his still-mortal body, which withered and died. His vengeful immortal head ate Surya (the sun). Since Rahu no longer had a body, Surya came back again. This cycle goes on, and thus the solar eclipse is explained!
Now that we understand the laws of physics that govern the orbits of the Earth and Moon, we know scientifically why solar eclipses occur. We also understand that the reason the moon exactly covers the sun during a solar eclipse is because “the sun’s diameter is about 400 times larger than that of the moon, and the sun is about 400 times farther away. So the sun and moon appear nearly the same size as seen from Earth.” What are the odds? Having watched it with my own eyes, knowing the science, I still had a mystical experience.
Corona is Latin for crown.
The corona of the sun, seen during solar eclipses, is created by sunlight bouncing off dust particles and scattering off of free electrons. It extends millions of miles into outer space and is much hotter than the surface of the Sun.
The name Coronavirus refers to the characteristic appearance of virions, the infective form of the virus, under an electron microscope. The virions have “a fringe of large, bulbous surface projections creating an image reminiscent of a crown.” The microscopic images of the virus are quite stunning, and if we did not know what they depicted, might even be seen as beautiful.
It is easy to witness an eclipse and feel connected to the mysteries of the universe in a way some would call spiritual. It is not so easy to relate to the coronavirus from such a perspective. From a dualistic religious perspective, we might see and eclipse as holy and the coronavirus as evil. But is anything really that simple?
In yoga and in science, we look at these phenomenon differently.
Science can explain the physics of an eclipse, and the chemistry and biology of a virus. That helps us overcome superstitions.
Yoga is both a science of internal observation, and a devotional path of reverence for the mystery of life. The yogi understands that everything is imbued with consciousness. The yogi views life through the lens of karma, which means action, not retribution.
If I were to say to you, “this has happened because of that,” you should not believe me. I don’t know the secrets of the universe or understand the complexity of karma. I am skeptical of anyone who says he does. What I do believe, is that we have been living out of harmony with the natural world for some time, and that our behavior has consequences.
If we commit atrocities against the animal world, and in doing so come into contact with a virus that wipes out a percentage of the human population, that is karma. It is the action of humans encountering the actions of a virus. Science and yoga are in agreement on this explanation, although the scientist and yogi might disagree on where consciousness begins and ends. We can not change the actions of a virus, but we can change our relationship to the animal world. Compassion leads to peace. That is karma.
For the yogi, god is everywhere. For the scientist, god is nowhere.
The sun shines on us all just the same. The virus cares not what we believe. The question, then, is how do you want to live this one wild and precious life?
