Bhakti: A Practice of the Heart

The Bhākti Movement began in Tamil Nadu, India in 7th century AD. The movement was anti-caste, women-led, and centered around the idea that everyone could have a direct relationship with God—who could be found in nature or community—and that divinity existed within all of us. Bhākti yoga is a deeply political and heart-centered yoga practice that has an emphasis on singing, chanting, and gathering in community.

As a result of the appropriation of yoga in the West, we often only focus on asāna (physical practice) when yoga is an entire philosophy and lifelong practice. Our perception of what a healing space looks, feels, and sounds like is often rooted in a washed-down and appropriative experience of spiritual practices from non-Western cultures. Wellness culture has told us that there is always something to be fixed, improved upon, or bought that will make us better. Yoga shows us that slowing down, connecting to our breath, our bodies, and to the natural world, can allow us to step towards freedom. 

The pieces in the gallery had all been created by an intuitive art process through the practice of listening to trees, ancestors, and stories, as well as through following the heart. The furniture in the gallery had all been sourced secondhand, donated, or loaned, and served as a reminder of the abundance that exists around us. It emphasized how there are ways to experience physical comfort that do not further contribute to capitalism, a system that continues to harm the earth and gains power when we see ourselves separate from the natural world.

We have all changed in the past few years amidst COVID-19, and our bodies are holding so much that words cannot name. We all deserve to have physical spaces where we find respite; a place of comfort that allows our nervous systems to rest and access our innermost dreams and desires. Often when we enter gallery or museum spaces, there is a rigidity attached to institutions rather than an integration of the body and heart—the most integral components to the art-making process and to living. While this was a traditional gallery that showcased art, it also sought to be a decompression space; a place where one could practice, rest, play, and nourish their creative spirit in community.

Gatherings were held weekly, September 28, 2022–November 30, 2022

Bhākti Gathering Hour was a weekly workshop held each Wednesday where visitors could connect with new people, journal, create art, or practice tarot, as well as meet the artist and special guests. Conversations were hosted by rotating local BIPOC artists and allowed visitors to learn about the spiritual and personal aspects of each artist's practice. On October 12 and November 9, the healing practice focused on those in the BIPOC community.

September 23, 2022
Harvard Ed Portal

The interactive installation, Bhākti: A Practice Of The Heart, kicked off with an opening celebration at the Crossings Gallery.

September 28, 2022–
November 30, 2022
Harvard Ed Portal

These weekly gatherings provided opportunities for the local community to connect and form deeper relationships with one another.

December 8, 2022
Harvard Ed Portal

The local community was invited to join yoga teacher and artist, Deborah Johnson, and herbalist and poet, Julissa Emile, for restorative yoga and a reflection on the past year.

My artistic journey has always centered a deep connection to my mental health, ancestry, and community. One of the most important questions I've learned to ask myself as a somatic practitioner and artist is, "For the sake of what? Art for the sake of what?" For me, it is for the sake of spiritual and emotional expression, for the sake of connection, and for the sake of freedom. I hope through emphasizing an intuitive art process, using materials that are easily available, and integrating the body, that my work can challenge the idea that art must be inaccessible in order to be valuable or effective. I hope my work encourages someone to buy cheap watercolors, take a deep breath, and paint the pain they have felt in their upper back, or write down the words they wish their mother told them, and frame it above their makeshift altar.