Falling Off the Ground

Last night I took myself outside after two failed attempts to nap. (I’ve been battling a head cold for about three days already. It’s been quite the roller coaster and I’ve been craving rest.) It was around dusk and I decided to untangle some of my Morning Glory vines and encourage them in new, specific directions. After that was done, with my laptop at our sun table I decided to do anything online except school work. This made me feel lonely, so I texted The Best and reminded him that he hadn’t left his room since coming home and that his nicotine levels were surely running low. (“Don’t you have to come outside for a breath of fresh air soon?”) Sure enough, he had joined me outside within 5 minutes. A short while later I found myself out at our sidewalk, sitting and staring at the dark sky. I watched the stars while suspended in Navasana (boat pose). This led to sprawling out on the sidewalk – which actually is a much better way to watch the stars.

While I was still really young my father taught me how to see the stars move. It’s one of my all-time favorite things to have learned in this life so far and having been given that wisdom from him makes it even more precious to me. After he’s gone I’ll continue watching stars move with him. The best and I also saw UFOs, no joke.

Resting later in Shavasana (still on the sidewalk), I experienced something cool. I suddenly felt like I was on a ceiling and was looking at a celestial floor. Of course, humans aren’t meant to relax on ceilings, so the celestial floor felt like the better, more natural place to be. I sensed within me a very subtle yearning leave the ceiling for the floor. I found myself practically craving a launch from the pavement I relaxed on and expand into the speckled indigo Everything I saw before me. Usually closing my eyes helps encourage these kinds of expansive experiences, but this time it proved only to limit it – so I kept them open, without blinking, for as long as I was able. In his own way, I think The Best (who joined me on the sidewalk after his nicotine dose) was probably also having a similar experience because he started a conversation about gravity and being thrown out into space.

I’ve said before that when this life is finished and I’m done with this body, I will refuse additional bodily cycles and instead adopt the myriad forms of this planet’s weather system(s). I now suspect that this will not suffice. Even being a part of Earth’s weather is likely to feel too much like still being stuck to the ceiling. Rejoining the aforementioned floor will be far better and I will do it.

Aum Shri Mahaganeshaya Namaha
Aum Shanti

Advertisement

Intentional Jinx

Taken from Google Image search

I think I believe in jinxes. They’re not rational, but still. Any time I’ve shared that I’ve applied for a job or interviewed for one, I don’t get it. I keep my mouth shut, however, and I’m signing an offer letter before I know it. People announce that they’re quitting smoking – and fail. I’ve known a few who tackled this task quietly, and obtained healthy success. I mention to anyone that I’m rededicating myself to time at the gym and it’s invariably at least a month before I step through the doors. I sneak in without so much as a peep, and the next thing I know I’ve gone nearly every day for three months solid and seeing results.

There’s something different… special… powerful… about just getting to work and making it (whatever that might be) happen.

Periodically, I take a bigger view of my life than I already often do and make an assessment. I can remember the first couple times I attempted this, I pretty much failed. But getting back on the old horse is part of learning how to ride, so I kept with the effort and now when times of assessment hit me, they’re productive and more balanced / reasonable.

For me, the last seven days (today, Saturday, being the seventh) has been another period of assessment. I find this interesting and frustrating because my best had been hospitalized for numerous days, I’m wrapping up a class right now and have tons due, shopping season is evaporating as I write this (and I’ve yet to buy a thing!), I am moving into yet another position at work which means intense focus / learning, and I’ve gone on less sleep per night each night this week than I have in I-don’t-know-how-long. Of all the times to be adding something else to my plate – especially something like one of my “assessments” – this would surely be about the worst. No?

There have been a few times in the past when, post assessment, I’ve arrived at some conclusions and have mentioned those to some or all. Then, other times, I’ve arrived at a decision or two not related to any kind of so-called assessment and have still opened my mouth about it all. Mostly, at least within the narrow contexts of my self-assessments, I’ve not been jinxed. I’ll admit some decisions / conclusions here and there were short-lived in contrast to others. But I don’t really see those as failures so much as just proof that it wasn’t really a conclusion that I’d come to, after all. Further, in some cases I think those instances are evidence that I’ve evolved a bit from that point.

After these last seven days, I blissfully (and much-needed-ly) slept in this morning and when I awoke I had new knowledge, well almost a feeling really. Nothing dark-n-wondrous or ground-splitting, but definitely game-changing. Almost a new perspective. Certain things will be different moving forward, although I think I’ll choose not to reveal those right now.

I’d hate to jinx anything. (Or have I already?)

Aum Shri Mahaganeshaya Namaha
Aum Shanti

Pujasthana

Pujasthana is a compound noun. Since high school when I studied and nearly mastered the German language, I have LOVED compound nouns. I find them to be artistic, efficient and keeps a language from having a ridiculously large vocabulary like English does. The nouns that make up the word pujasthana are puja and sthana. For anyone unfamilar with any Indian languages or any Hindu religious words, puja means a worship ritual and can be as elaborate or simple as a person is inclined. Sthana means place. We see sthana used as a suffix in many names of middle eastern counrties. A curious one I find to be a little funny and a little sad is Pakistan. When that name is broken down, it literally means “place of the fools.”

Probably around two years ago I went the local Patel Brothers Indian Grocery store and perused their selection of mandirs for my puja room. They had only less than ten, and the cheapest one was still more than $300. Usually when I’m shopping for something like this, I only even go shopping when I know I have more than enough money for anything I might encounter. In things like this, if I were to see something I wanted – but not be able to get it right then – it would lead to much frustration. So, typically I only go looking for things I want when I know I can afford them no matter the cost.

So I found myself in Patel Brothers, with the Best, and looking at mandirs. For such a small selection, they did well at providing an assortment. Of course things like that drag out my decision process: Do I want taller more than wide? Color or strictly metallic? How finished do I need the inside to me? Storage drawer or none? Ornate or simplistic?

So many things do consider when choosing your ishtadevata’s dwelling place!

I eventually settled on a design that unique among the selection. It’s colorful and full of detail and design. It has a shelf and drawer that open to the front just below where the doors are. The images on the outside are of Ganesha, Om, Lakshmi, Surya, Hanuman and Krishna. It has a free-standing “steeple” that rests easily on top. There are screened windows on both sides and on the doors. The inside comes with a riser and both the riser and inside walls are covered in red felt-like material. Roughly, it’s about a foot deep, about 1.5ft wide and maybe around 3ft tall.

Since that time, it’s served as a great residence for the murti of my ishtadevata, Ganesha. But I’m getting an itch. This is the last year I’ll be able to get so much back in taxes (thank you, student credit!), and I plan to get Ganesha a new home. This means the current one has to go.

Here’s the deal: I’m giving it away. Anyone who wants it, can have it. The only catch is that if you’re not local to me, you’ll need to reimburse me the cost of shipping. I ran through the USPS website and did a very rough estimate on shipping (~33lbs to an Alaska zip code) and it was around $100. (Note: This is very approximate. I weighed it with everything inside and entered general dimensions, plus I doubt anyone even as far as Alaska will show interest, so the actual cost of shipping would vary, but should be somewhat close to the $100.) I paid around $325 for it before tax, so even worst case scenario with shipping is still two-thirds off the original amount paid for it.

If you’ve read this far you already know its description. Photos are below. This post is going to Facebook for further advertising. Feel free to contact me here, on Facebook, or privately if you have that info. If there are no takers between now and the eighth of March, I’ll donate it to anyone who wants it at my local temple when I’m there on the tenth.

Om Shanti!

Sit – N – Spin

Sometimes, often even, I wonder about the direction my life actually has. I’m doing things, and I’m happy, but often enough I glimpse how very little control I actually have over anything. I think most people are on one side of me or the other: they either feel like they’re the one pulling all strings, or they feel entirely powerless.

I feel within myself the ability to grab all the strings I want, but then about the time I do, I decide not to yank as hard as I had previous thought I might. One way this manifests is in my book-buying habits.

I love buying books. A lot. And I do it as frequently as I am able. Even when I shouldn’t, or don’t actually have the money, I’ll still go book hunting. Recently, on Valentine’s Day, I decided that I needed more books. I’ve been working my way, with much focus, through a few others I’ve been meaning to finish and had been feeling a sense of accomplishment… so, naturally, I need to add to the pile again.

I bought a number of books – all of which I’m pleased to own now. One was a steal AND a gem. I mentioned it on Facebook. Another is titled, “Shuddha Bhakti” by Swami B.V. Tirtha Maharaja. The others include a study guide for Sanskrit ( my religion’s sacred language), a version of the Shri Ishopanishad by Swami Prabhupada that matches the other books by him that I already own (I’ve had other copies of Shri Ishopanishad, but I was particularly pleased to find a hard copy that is the same size, etc… of my other ISKCON books), and lastly I bought a large black tome titled, “Jesus Christ Message to All Nations.” It’s fabulous. It’s some kind of gospel written by Warren Jeffs and pretty much bitches out every nation currently on our globe. It’s apparently a message that Jeffs channeled for the Lord God, who seems really upset and angry. Threats abound in this book. Unfortunately complete sentences, proper punctuation, and coherent thoughts do not. Amused, I read some to my beloved where God is supposedly warning the USA about her relationship with China and the Koreas. Fabulous stuff, although he wasn’t nearly as amused. I only bought the book to place it on my bookcase next to the Book of Mormon I have – which itself is only even in my home because after my father’s sister-in-law passed more than a third of my family joined the Mormon church. I don’t think the Mormon Church is any more a cult that the rest of Christianity, but this Warren Jeffs stuff seems to be more along the cultish lines, and a find like this book was too precious to pass up.

These book purchases are indicative, though. Imagine being a grocery store cashier and someone comes through your checkout lane with whipped cream, dental floss, a package of ink pens, and four tealight candles. Truthfully, I think most cashiers don’t give customers’ purchases a second though. But if you were a cashier, and you DID pay attention to what people were buying, and those items were what a single customer bought… WTF? Such randomness, no? I mean what’re the chances someone’s going to consider a trip to the grocery, start a list of items needed, and think, “Let’s see… Just ran out of whipped cream. Better get more dental floss. I’m getting low on ink pens, oh, and yes, I need FOUR tealight candles.”? Totally random, and you can’t even argue it.

But that’s me at any book store.

And I think it’s why I often feel like I have the ability to pull a million strings and get somewhere and go someplace and do something, but it’s also why I sometimes feel like I’m not actually pulling any of those strings. For instance, if I bought ONLY books on Mormonism… by now I’d be a damned expert. And the same can be said about a number of things I choose to study. What usually results, though, is that I end up knowing “a whole lot” about many many things, but end up knowing everything about nothing.

As frustrating as this is sometimes, I often feel like I’m still a little ahead of the game – but never as ahead as I’d like. All of this, serves as a constant reminder to me of the potential my life (and anyone else’s) has. We all have a billion strings we could be pulling. And also a reminder of my laziness. The Gita says that no effort is ever wasted when one exerts it toward betterment and realization. But one has to actually make the effort.

Om Shanti

Shivohum and Same to You, too.

One of my favorite publications is a Shaivite magazine, “Hinduism Today.” I’ve had a subscription for years and have purchased a few subscriptions for others as well. Whether one happens to be a vaishnav, shaivite, shakta, or smarta, this magazine is invaluable. It’s been instrumental in my own growth, for sure. One thing I repeatedly adore about it is that, although it is technically sectarian, it differs from most other sects in its openness and inclusiveness. As such, while it’s definitely a Shiva-oriented source, it does great work in covering the broader picture of Hinduism and the Hindu diaspora.

The most recent issue has a focus on Swami Vivekananda, which has been really great for me. His lineage appears to be from the Shakta denomination of Sanatana Dharma, his own guru being a priest for Kali at one of Her temples … in Dakshineshwar, I think. Along with this focus on Vivekananda and all he did for our faith, there are various other articles. One of these deals with the Namaste greeting, and is what this post’s primary focus is meant to be.

The article begins in pointing out the differences and immensely varied implications to be found in the Western handshake and the Anjali Mudra (Namaste greeting). For the sake of brevity and keeping focus, from here out I’ll use bullet points to list what I think are the main talking points of the article.

• The handshake originates in medieval Europe. Weaponry on the person used to be a more common sight, and so was fear. The resultant “accidentally retributive” attacks were sometimes thwarted by showing the other guy your open hand (“I’m unarmed, don’t stab me!!!”). Later, with a little cultural evolution, the open hands were joined upon meeting or passing, and we now have the handshake.

• The anjali mudra is highly symbolic: “Anj” means to adore, celebrate, honor; the pressing of the hands together symbolizes the bringing together of spirit and matter; the hands coming together symbolizes the self meeting the Self.

• Three main forms of the Namaste greeting exist: 1) Simple meeting of the hands, vertically at the solar plexus; 2) Same as before, plus the addition of raising the hands until the upper fingertips touch one’s third eye; 3) Same as before, plus the addition of taking the joined hands to a position above the head at the aperture in the crown chakra known as brahma-randhra. These three variations are progressively formal.

•  The handshake is an outwardly conquering gesture. It hints at Western man’s desire for conquering and acquiring. An overly strong handshake can be meant for purposes of intimidation, and a too-weak handshake is also very telling.

• Western culture is summed up in the handshake: reaching out horizontally to greet another; we reveal our humanity; we convey how strong we are, how nervous, how aggressive or how passive. Namaste reaches in vertically to acknowledge that, in truth, there is no “other.”

• It’s more civilized to Namaste instead of shaking hands. Popes never shake hands. Kings never shake hands. Even mothers don’t shake hands with their own children. Namaste is cosmically different: Kings do namaste, Satgurus namaste, mothers namaste their own families, we all namaste before God, a holy man, or a holy place. The namaste gesture indicates our inner valuing of the sacredness of all. Namaste is also more practical: A politician or performer can greet fifty-thousand people with one Namaste and the honor can be returned.

• The gesture has a subtle effect on the aura and nerve system. The nerve currents of the body converge in the feet, the solar plexus and the hands. To balance this energy, and prevent its loss from the body, yogis and meditators sit cross-legged and bring their hands together. The anjali mudra is a simple yogic asana.

• An increasing number of celebrities and others around crowds are adopting the Namaste greeting as a polite means of avoiding the transmission of contact diseases. The Namaste greeting has become a veritable icon of Indianness, although an ever-increasing number of non-Indians are also using the greeting.

I’m not sure that all of these points do justice to the practicality, intuition, and value that the Namaste greeting holds versus the handshake. Hopefully these points, as highlighted from the article, hint at some of this.

Om Shanti

Dharmakshetre kurukshetre

After the initial “Dhritarashtra uvacha,” the first two words of the Bhagavad Gita are “dharmakshetre kurukshetre.” These translate, roughly, as “on the sacred battlefield of Kurukshetra.” Today, like every second Sunday of a month, was the largest regularly-occuring worship service at my temple, known as Gita Mandal. I always look forward to this larger crowd, and the experience that is Hindu worship, including the discourse that’s given after all the shlokas, bhajans, and dhuns are finished. Today’s discourse, like the Bhagavad Gita, started with those words.

In the past, and likely also in the future, I’ve had a challenge helping my non-Hindu pals understand that we don’t have a resident speaker, the way Christian churches use their pastors for sermons. The man who spoke today was local, highly educated (as all of our speakers are), and very kind. And he spoke on the meaning and value of dharma.

In a manner not unlike Sri Krsna’s while speaking to Arjuna, this gentleman explained that everyone’s dharma is unique. He detailed examples of what individual and collective dharmas might look like, and then spoke a bit on the immense sacredness and value of each person not only performing their own dharma as best they’re able, but also the tremendous value of investing plenty of one’s self into actually ascertaining what his dharma actually is.

Otherwise, I agree on both accounts; although, my mind kept thinking about the second part of what he said, pertaining to knowing yourself well enough to determine on your own what your dharma might be, and then having the capacity to choose the most efficient way to manifest that. After all, a lot can be said about “diving in.” You can get busy attempting to iron out your karmas and cultivating your Bhakti, but without a foundational touch of Jnana, you’re likely to just add to your karmic pile and find that your Bhakti has gone every which way. What you then discover is that “diving in” has landed you head-first in three feet of water.

Krishna also says that when dharma decreases and adharma is on the rise, He takes human form to set things back in a more balanced direction. I think what is about the laziest way of understanding this, and it doesn’t make it less true, is that no matter how bad things get, God will and re-show us a way back. I think this is one of the many amazing aspects of my religion, and one of the big things Christianity and Hinduism have in common: the belief that God becomes human.

Equally amazing is that we’re met precisely where we are. Vishnu has incarnated numerous times to help restore dharma. Look at any avatar and you’ll see that God doesn’t usually see fit to coach from the sidelines. Any avatar from any religion will support this. The Universe meets us where we need help… The battlefields of our existence. Kurukshetre… In the place of the Kurus. The Kuru battlefield. Not the side lines. Not at the palace lounging with Dhrtarashtra and Sanjaya. Krishna/God served as the driving force of Arjuna. He supplied him with strength, restoring his courage by imparting universal Jnana. Explaining all things to Arjuna, revealing the true, intimate and impartial nature of Reality, including a mystic vision of Purushottama, Krishna dove into the battle with Arjuna and helped him navigate his crisis. Kurukshetre.

The place of dharma! How curious that the place of dharma (dharmakshetre), happens to be one and the same with the place of battle (kurukshetre). I’m reminded of the Old Testament story involving three young Hebrews and a fiery furnace. I’ll spare you the entire story; you can find it here, but suffice to say three young believers were thrown into a furnace with the intention that they would be met with a torturous demise. What happened instead, as the story goes, is that divine help arrived and all involved danced in the furnace unharmed instead of being consumed by it. Here’s an Abrahamic example supporting the Dharmic understanding of Divinity taking an active role in the so-called battlefield experienced in life.

You see, the battle field experienced in every-day existence is precisely where we’re able to meet our dharma and live as we ought to -for our individual benefit and progression, as well as the benefit of all others in the form of sustained Dharma. How fortunate we are that Dharma meets us where we are and provides us the opportunity to restore balance and order in our personal Kurukshetras!

Om shanti