I’m sorry

It’s been said so many times that the best way to learn is to teach. I experienced this first-hand as a teen when I was “preaching” to Sunday school kids and had to prepare lessons for that and also a little while after that when I was in high school and taught German. You have to be prepared for what you want to communicate in the teaching as well as any potential exceptions to the lesson and any questions you might encounter from students.

In my own life, I’ve been a teacher to many – both in the sense that I mentioned before wherein I was physically standing before a type of audience for the purpose of imparting knowledge and also as a kind of “life teacher.” Grown-ups, young people, friends, family, and strangers alike have come to be for advice. This isn’t bragging, it’s just a fact. People have said to me that they perceive me to be someone who “has it together” and it creates a sense of trust. I’m flattered and honored to help anyone in any way I’m able and if all they need is advice then my work has been made easy. But this comes with a responsibility and one that I think I’ve failed at miserably.

I’ll back up a bit and share some of a story that was told to me a few weeks ago during a dinner with a prefect. We’d met for dinner for what I thought was strictly business – some questions and loose ends that she and I needed to review and try to nail down. As I should have expected, our conversation steered itself wherever it would and we talked about lots more than anticipated, some of which might be shared here later down the road. At one point she shared with me a couple experiences of hers from time when she was in the presence of our last guru, Parthasarathi Rajagopalachari (Chariji). I’m probably remembering the exact details wrong, but in one of the stories, a meal was being shared with those present including herself, Chariji, and a number of other prefects from different nations. The story meandered a bit but over the course of the dinner, as I understood, the different nations as they were represented at the table were focusing quite intensely on each other’s flaws or weaknesses… or at least this was part of the conversation… and I think it even started with talk about Americans.

Chariji was an active part of the discussion and, as any true teacher would be, played the role of a mirror to those engaged. As those present were being taught a very tough lesson about judging and finger-pointing (and who knows what else) the prefect telling me the story said that her own experience of the moment was of the energy being quite intense and heavy feeling. With that intensity, she began to feel herself wilt – like some kind of flower in the noon hour heat of Indiana’s very humid summer. Being an advanced soul himself, Chariji was able to sense this response in her. As he was sitting right next to her, he turned to her and gently said, “I’m sorry.”

There was another story she told me also involving being in his presence and him, at one point, saying to her, “I’m sorry.” This made me cry right then. I made an attempt to bring our dinner to a quick close, but she (seeing my upset) wouldn’t have it and insisted I sit back down and talk to her. She hadn’t even realized what a deep message she’d given me. This kind of wisdom is truly dark and wondrous and I wasn’t expecting it. Our guru’s awareness was so keen that he was able to sense her subtle response to the exchange taking place. That’s a sensitivity that I think I have yet to hone – which, to me, feel dangerous.

I wept at our dinner because instantly, as if Chariji were there to transmit the lesson himself, I was very aware of lessons I’ve given to others which were probably very tough to swallow. Lots of medicines are tough to choke down and that doesn’t in any way mean they aren’t the right medicine or that they aren’t what’s needed to cure the ailment in question. All of that, more than anything else, really speaks to the point in personal evolution the student is in at the time. But there’s a certain absence of compassion or … something … when a teacher knows the lesson is tough (as I have known some of my lessons are tough) and keeps pushing the student. Thinking about all the times my lessons have been tough for the students to internalize and realize and how I’ve continued to push … just about makes me sick to my stomach. It feels so irresponsible.

Recently, in Minnesota, I was telling a friend and his wife about this. Stupidly, I got kind of choked up while telling it – I really just can’t even believe myself sometimes. They were so understanding. My husband was in the car then, too, and I could see it in his eyes. Probably because he’s been a student a few times, himself. Even he could see the value in a teacher who says, “I’m sorry.” My friend and his wife seemed very understanding. They were quick to try to soothe my feelings. They reminded me that it’s okay. That my manner of giving wisdom is just my own and there’s nothing wrong with it. I think boot camp was mentioned, which makes me smile a little even now – I will definitely put someone through boot camp. They reassured me that even teachers are growing and evolving.

This is challenging for someone like me to accept – not because of the idea that I have more growing and learning to do, but because of the realization that my actions could be perceived as careless. Worse yet is that I’m not certain how to move beyond that. I only know to trust my evolution.

Aum Shri Mahaganeshaya Namaha | Aum Shanti

Advertisement

God’s Favorite Month

Back in June I read a blog post published by someone I no longer associate with but whose writing I sometimes enjoy reading. This young man, like myself, is gay and Hindu and non-Indian. Despite our differences, having those things in common means we understand certain things on the same level – which is nice. His post, which can be accessed by clicking here, was about Purushottama Masa, a leap month in the Vedic calendar. (The modern calendar observed here in the West has what we call leap years, but it’s really more like a leap day – a day that isn’t recognized on the calendar except in certain years. This is probably why the young writer called Purushottama Masa a leap month – it’s a month that isn’t always in the calendar.)

It’s explained in the post that Vishnu (Hari-dev) values this month immensely – so much that it’s his favorite month and he rewards devotees who up their sadhana during this auspicious time. It’s pointed out in the post that this increase in favor manifests as added benefits. So whatever punya you might normally accrue from, say, one round of mantra jaapa, is magnified during this leap month. Maybe during this month, because it’s God’s favorite, one round of jaapa counts double? Triple? Only god knows, I bet.

He goes on to focus the post not around it being god’s favorite or the added benefits, but of the importance of making every day and every offering as valuable as something offered so uniquely as in Purushottama Masa. I agree with that in general, but I often have an eye for details and the indication that this month is god’s favorite really stood out to me.

Please believe: Any god that has favorites is no god at all.

Throughout humanity’s history of god, we have claimed to know god well enough to be able to speak on god’s behalf – telling or explaining to others what’s okay with god and what isn’t, what god favors and what isn’t favored. Throughout humanity’s history of god this has proven to be immensely dangerous, almost invariably. After all: Jews are god’s “chosen people,” Christians know their jagadguru to be god’s “only begotten,” Islam’s idea of jihad couldn’t be pursued on any level without knowledge of what is holy in contrast to what is unholy, and Hindus apparently know god’s favorite month (among other things).

I don’t know why this tendency exists. Probably ego prospering withing Maya. Regardless of culture or time, it seems like something humans are bound to do: Fuck god up. We can’t be happy with our own unique first-hand experiences. We don’t usually want to rest in those experiences and treasure them as private peeks at our Source. At a minimum we often try to codify. In extremes, we kills others for not accepting what we know to be true. And the rest of the time we engage in all manner of in-between ridiculousness.

I think Sahaj Marg’s assessment that religion is like kindergarten is very fitting and very true. From kindergarten you get stick figure drawings, coloring outside the lines, and maybe some shaky handwriting. Yeah it’s sweet. It feels innocent because it’s a beginning and because it’s a beginning it actually holds tremendous value. But no one is meant to stay there. You leave kindergarten behind as soon as you possibly can and failure to do that usually means something really unfortunate like a learning disability or maybe even trouble at home. It’s like in a previous post when it was mentioned that Jesus was like, “Guys, c’mon! Stop being children of God. You have to grow up now.”

The quote pictured below was said by my current guru’s guru and I think it does a fine job expressing why we should leave religion behind as quickly as possible. Regardless of the innocence possibly expressed in stick figure drawings, they are still crude. Very crude representations of a much bigger reality, right?

 

 

 

Religion, especially if it tries to convince you that god has a favorite anything or a preference of any sort, is like saying a five-year-old’s stick figure representation of her mother is a sufficient and entirely accurate depiction of that woman. I don’t think the mother of the five-year-old is offended by the stick figure drawing. Not at all – the mother doesn’t really care. Being the mother, she understands that, for a brief time, that’s the best the child can do. Certainly, if god even had an opinion on religion, then god would view religion the same way: It’s the best some humans can do, at one stage or another in life.

But stick figures aren’t accurate – not even close. And kindergarten is meant only as a beginning.

Aum Shri Mahaganeshaya Namaha | Aum Shanti

An-Nuur

Image taken from Google Image search

Today is one of those days at work…. There’s practically nothing for me to do – at least not until the developers on my team package some stuff up and deploy it. Then it’ll be the usual game of “hurry up and wait.” Until then, surely the most productive use of my time is to reread details of this week’s mahakumbhabhishekam at my temple, to add details to the plans for my July vacation, and to blog here.

It’d been a little while since I last logged in here, and as with any other instance of logging into WordPress for the first time in a while, the first thing I accomplished was catching up on my “newsfeed” of blogs I follow that had published posts since I last logged in. One of them smacked me in the face as soon as I saw it. It can be viewed here if you feel inclined.

It is a Rumi quote. Typical of the Rumi I’ve read, it is short, sweet, and yet very profound. It also, in a very gentle way, asks, “Didn’t you know?” which is something I’ve seen a lot with Rumi, too.

Didn’t you know? This question is such a sweet way of saying, “Listen to the Truth I’m about to share with you.” It also, at least with Rumi, usually points to something each of us has likely forgotten – forgotten because of Maya and living within a phenomenal level of existence where so much seems too topsy-turvy from where we sit. So many shiny things distract us and make us “forget” things we’ve known forever – since the beginning of everything.

In the same quote, he next tells us that our light is the light that brightens the world. This melted my heart almost instantly – the place where I sense my own light, the heart chakra, is a place I go to when my ego and other head nonsense seem too relentless. The Sahaj Marg practice is the only yoga I’ve engaged in that has specifically helped the practitioners know and experience this light – the very One that lights the world.

Something else that came to mind when I read Rumi’s words is the “flameless flame” itself (my words, not part of Rumi’s quote here) which is producing that important and vital light. This is the flame within that Sahaj Marg teaches is so subtle that from a practical standpoint it can’t actually be perceived but should instead only be “supposed.” We start with the supposition of that Light, that Flame. It’s such a mild and peaceful, even gentle flame. Right? It’s constant and truly it never flickers. Neither is it ever disturbed or affected or extinguished by the goings on of the phenomenal life.

And yet, flames are quite active things. Fire and the light produced by it has always held much symbolism for the human mind and because this has been true since forever it’s something quite easy to move right on past and not give a second thought. But let’s secondly think.

As a human creature, whenever we’re seeing a flame it’s because of the magic of chemistry. Something combustible is undergoing real alchemy – it’s really and truly changing into something else and in that specific process heat and light are being generated.

From a standpoint that isn’t as deep as we could go, in order for our light to … well, light, we need spiritual combustion. In Sahaj Marg we often refer to this as integration or evolution. In other paths, you might hear of karmas being “burned away.” Same thing.

Image taken from Google Image search

All of this requires a catalyst – something to spark that fire. This could be almost anything for the human being – and not necessarily something we currently recognize as spiritual or as having anything to do with God. After all, Atheists are no less capable of personal alchemy. It’s important to realize that the work isn’t finished once we see that the fire has started. It must be fed and nurtured and kept going – like a sacred dhuni in the heart of who you are.

That takes action. And the burning itself is action. And, in various ways, it can require effort to exhibit the light that has been generated by that Fire. I think in some cases one isn’t required to do much, if anything, to light the world. In most cases, probably, it’s something we have to make an effort toward – something we SHOULD make a conscious effort toward.

Image taken from Google Image search

Lastly, Rumi didn’t say that we’re responsible for lighting the whole world. Noticing that, it seems clear that we’re only responsible for lighting whatever is within natural reach of our light. For some, the range will be bigger than it will be for others. That doesn’t matter. What’s important is investing the effort needed to cultivate a healthy visibility of the light coming from the Fire within.

“It is your light that lights the world.”

Aum Shri Mahaganeshaya Namaha | Aum Shanti

The Important One

A Sahaj Marg book I finished a while ago, like many other of the Marg’s books, has me really pondering some things. I’ve been planning to write a post about the unity of Truth and how it is indivisible and had kept putting it off. Based on reading of late, I kinda feel like this might be that post but I’m still yet unsure.

Let’s see where this goes.

So, within the Sahaj Marg the focus is absolutely on spirituality and not religion. In fact, religion has been referred to as a form of kindergarten which is eventually (when the individual is ready) surpassed, transcended, and left behind. Naturally, abhyasis are encouraged to transcend that component of human existence as soon as he or she is able. It’s because of this that Sahaj Marg doesn’t endorse any particular form of God or murti or mantras, yantras or tantras, etc… Depending on who you speak to within the Sahaj Marg there is assigned more or less value on these things, but the Goal is understood to be far beyond and infinitely more subtle than any component of religion can actually offer.

I think one critique Chariji offers of the Hindu religion (which, btw, he is clear about thinking is the most sublime of humanity’s many paths.) is its depiction of Truth, or rather its multitudinous depictions. Our Vedas are clear in the popular mahavakyam, “Ekam sat – vipraha bahudha vadanti,” but I think in the hands of humans this often becomes a trap of sorts. Instead of focusing on the “Ekam” we focus on the “vipraha bahudha vadanti.” Yeah, sure – we use this to validate the assertion that all paths are valid and contain the same Truth. But even then, the emphasis placed on the One Truth is weak and we still find ourselves having to make a strong effort to see past external differences to find that One. The attention is always given to the “various ways” in which Truth is experienced and expressed. This can be understood to be the foundation of religion, and if not, then certainly the skin it develops.

Deepak Chopra has said that all religion really is, is the attempt at replicating one person’s experience of That. I experience Yoga, I tell you the path I took and possibly even recommend it, and then you attempt to recreate that experience yourself. Voila: The Religion (of Yoga).

Speaking of religion, Yoga was likely never intended to be a religion. Well, at least not a religion that belonged to more than the soul practicing it. Yoga was around long before religion was and that’s a very powerful and indicative piece of knowledge. Truth is one – yoga is one. And those who experience it, experience and name it variously. Ekam Sat, vipraha bahudha vadanti. No where in that mahavakyam do we read, “Truth is one and groups of people experience it collectively.” The minute you have groups experiencing collectively, or trying to, you have religion. You have separation.

If one group says, “We experience Truth like this” and another says, “We experience Truth like that” you can assume they’re speaking of the same Truth – after all if Truth is one, then those experiencing it must be experiencing the Same. But you can also know that something not quite true is being said. A more accurate thing for them to say would be, “We try to experience Truth together in this way.” But even then they’re missing the mark: They are seeking the same Truth, perhaps in the same way, but so long as the individuals within that group have unique karmas and samskaras, etc… you can be sure the experiences will be equally unique – not the same.

Just some food for thought on your Thursday. I’ll close with a quite from the well-known Dr. Vamadeva David Frawley, “The Hindu mind does not seek to impose itself upon people from the outside through force or persuasion. It is not interested in a mere change of names, labels, titles or beliefs. It looks to restoring our linkage with the higher consciousness behind the world, whatever name or form we might want to approach it through. The Hindu mind’s wish is that we reconnect with our true Self and Being that transcends all outer appearances and religious divisions and that we honor all the various expressions that Self takes, which can never be reduced to one religion, philosophy, language or culture.”

Aum Shri Mahaganeshaya Namaha
Aum Shanti

Hearted

Sufism, Taken from Google Image search

I’m sure by now readers have started assuming that this will be a blog focusing on Sahaj Marg and it’s writings. While I can certainly see why some would begin to think that, it’s not entirely true. In all fairness, I’m taking so very much away from the Sahaj Marg that it makes sense for me to kind of document it and this is where I would do that naturally. I hope you don’t mind, but in all fairness I don’t really care whether you do. 🙂

So, this book I’ve been digging through recently called “Love and Death” has proven to be a gem to me. Obviously, I’ve quoted it extensively here. Today I was working through a few more pages in it during my lunch and came across something else I thought to share.

Chariji is speaking and mentions how we reference people according to what’s in their heart. We say one person is kind-hearted. Another might be cold-hearted. Someone else could be described as hard-hearted, warm-hearted, or soft-hearted. The list could probably go on and on of the various “hearts” people might be found to have.

Naturally, this isn’t in reference to the physical heart inside the rib cage of every human, but rather the heart / soul of the person. And in so many people, this real Heart is severely obscured by garbage. Some of this garbage might be considered natural and may well be mandatory for those experiencing a physical existence. However, by far, most of it is unnecessary and even worse is unnecessarily perpetuated. Chariji likened this kind of “dirtiness” to a house the windows of which have been closed tightly for a very long time. The air within that house is stale. It begins to stink. The same happens within our souls. We start to die slowly – friendless, loveless, and godless. In fact, Chariji has said, “First we lose our friends, we lose our lovers, and God will not stay in a place which stinks.” To be clear, I don’t feel that his words are meant to be taken too literally here – God doesn’t leave a person because their heart has become stale.

As a prescription to prevent this, Chariji advises that we have to understand and know our Self. (A very familiar concept in Hinduism.) To get that understanding we’re to examine our heart. We do that by sitting in meditation. And what do we do in meditation? We focus our attention on the heart and then “see for yourself the enormously beautiful, wonderful mysteries that are there.”

Once we start to realize those mysteries, the world essentially become meaningless – but not in some dismal kind of way, rather in the way of the “karmaphala vairagya” detailed by Krishna in the Gita. As we become familiar with the contents of the human heart (the Self), we continue to live because we have to live, “like a tree lives.” Trees don’t find any charm in their existence – they simply exist because they are there and that’s reason enough. When we begin to live in that way we soon realize that we don’t exist for ourselves. Chariji says, “I exist like a tree which gives fruit to others, like a flower which scents its surroundings.” This is integral for anyone who claims to be a master and for spirituality in general – selfless, unattached, available for all to taste.

In the Sahaj Marg, the Master is like a tree offering its fruit to anyone who cares to pick it. This fruit comes from the Source, through the Master’s heart and has a supremely profound effect on the hearts of any who care to pick that fruit. Chariji says, “This is the call of spirituality, especially this brand which we are practicing called Sahaj Marg, the Natural Path. It is there. Please follow it, accept it, practice is, and see for yourself what it can do.”

Regardless of one’s path this is the call of all spirituality (not all religion, per se) – to get to the heart, one’s real Self and to know It.

Aum Shri Mahaganeshaya Namaha
Aum Shanti

सही धर्म / Sahi Dharma

Devotion is duty; perfect duty is devotion. Now, if I am devoted to my Master, it means perfection in the performance of the duty he has given to me, or which I have voluntarily accepted from him, as nearly perfect as possible, growing in perfection. Now people ask, “How can something grow in perfection?” Well, every agriculturist knows that you have a perfect seed. You prepare a place to plant it as perfectly as you can. You have a perfect sapling, you have a perfect plant, you have a perfect tree, you have the possibility of a perfect fruit. We start with the seed. At each stage it is perfect. It is a growing perfection. It is a changing perfection, yet it is perfection, which doesn’t change. The object into which that perfection is put or associated with may change, but the perfection itself doesn’t change. Therefore, you can have a perfect diamond, a perfect piece of coal, a perfect seaweed. Anything is perfect.

Philosophy says everything is perfect, because the Creator did not make anything imperfect. Now, we are dealing with what the Creator felt was a perfect creation. And when we blame creation and say, “This is stupid; that is futile, this is ugly,” we are criticizing the Creator. No mother likes to be criticized about her baby. She is worse than a tigress! So it is very true…We have a saying in Tamil, “That to the crow, its baby is a golden baby.” Every mother’s child is perfect.

So if every mother’s child is perfect, how can there be imperfect people? So when you think you are imperfect, you are already starting a criticism of your creator…My actions are imperfect, my thoughts are imperfect, my giving is imperfect, my taking is imperfect… He never created imperfect things.

Now perfection is neither good nor bad, it is neither big nor small, it is neither tasty nor untasty, because these are the opposites on two sides of that which is called via media, which is neither perfect nor imperfect, neither good nor bad, neither beautiful nor ugly, neither tasty nor untasty. Therefore, we call it ‘overcoming the dualities of life.’

– Taken from “Love and Death” by Parthasarathi Rajagopalachari