Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Guru Devotee Lesson

I'm learning a very important lesson in the guru devotee relationship. Something I never knew I would learn. It wasn't even in the scope of my knowledge. 

The chase. The aw. The heart wrenching opening and release. It's practically indescribable. 

You hear stories about this blessing that happens. You cannot truly know it until it happens to you. There is no doubt in your heart and what your mind wants to deny becomes increasingly more difficult. 

Friday, July 31, 2015

Honoring Our Teachers During Guru Purnima

Teachers have the capacity to burn within us a hunger for knowledge, cultivate latent talents and lift us out of maya (illusion). They also leave us with silly memories.

One of my grade school teachers Mr. B., seemingly loved the cold. In the dead of winter, with snow cradling the ground, us students would shiver in his classroom where the tilting windows were opened - all of them. Occasionally, due to the uncontrollable shaking knees of school girls wearing their uniform plaid skirts, he would close one or two windows.

"The cold is good for you!" Mr. B. would say. We still shook, but I hold that memory as a cherished one from my childhood.

In my life, I have had the extraordinary opportunity to be in the presence of His Holiness, the Dalai Lama, Zen Master, Thich Nhat Hahn, Krishna Das, and my guru H.H. Radhanath Swami. To be in the presence of these teachers is frankly mind blowing to me when I think about it. Access to books from other brilliant teachers has been an easy thing for me to obtain. These books are where I met (and subsequently absorbed the knowledge) of Pema Chodren, Yogananda and more. In a world where access to such things is limited, a blessing was bestowed upon me.

Guru is a Hindu word for a spiritual leader who has the capacity to drive out maya that binds an individual. Gu means darkness or ignorance. Ru is the remover of such things. Today is the day to honor those teachers who help to drive out our ignorance, instilling the ability to see with open eyes.

Guru Purnima is a celebration of Buddhists and Hindus alike, honoring and offering puja to their teachers. This annual holiday is on the full moon of Ashadha (Nepali/Hindu month June-July)

For yogis the history of this festival lies in the birth of Adi Guru (the first guru) 15,000 years ago. Through a lifetime's persistence of those around him, he opened the doorway for all of us to undergo a conscious evolution.

For Buddhists, today marks the anniversary when Lord Buddha traveled to Sarnath and gave his first sermon after achieving enlightenment. It was on this full moon day, that he delivered the Dhammacakkappavattana Sutta.

To Hindus, today marks the memory of the sage, Maharshi Veda Vyasa (also known as Krishna Dvaipayana). This avatar of the God Vishnu edited and divided the Vedas, wrote the Mahābhārata and eighteen of the major Puranas. To Hindu's, this day marks his birth and the date of the dividing of the Vedas. 

Guru Purnima gives us the chance to offer puja and thanks to our teachers - both spiritual and scholarly. Those teachers drove out ignorance for us in various ways. We can also take the time to acknowledge those in our daily lives who through a multitude of actions, provide us with important lessons, as well. Some of them are not easy lessons to learn.
HH Radhanath Swami. Source: Wiki Commons



I once heard a story of my guru's guru, A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada. A devotee had written him letters and Swami loved to have them read to him. When the devotee returned to  Prabhupada, another person suggested the devotee read his letters out loud to Prabhupada. When the devotee did so, Prabhupada started talking over him. Again and again this happened.

I remember feeling such empathy for the devotee when I heard the story and anger welled within me for Prabhupada. With time and distance, I recognized the hard lesson. Prabhupada had become for his devotee like a father. Guru's can take on that role for many of us. It hurts us when we disappoint them. It causes our heart to burn in pain when they do not readily give the love we seek. Swami Prabhupada was driving away vanity. It was a difficult lesson!

What if only Prabhupada said "What you are doing is vain!" Would the devotee have listened? Would his mind have reasoned why it wasn't? If your parents said something like that to you, would you listen? Sometimes the tough lessons come disguised in emotional cloaks to drive us deeper into a place beyond our egos.

My life is built up of lessons. The most impactful ones were uncovered through deep, painful, emotional moments. Of course it took time to see beyond my feelings. There were also those inspirational words, but they too generally invoked great emotional response.

For the inspirational and disciplinary lessons I have received from my life's teachers, I offer my humblest gratitude.

Jai Meher Baba!
Jai Sri Yuketswar!
Jai HH Dalai Lama!
And for my guru, Jai HH Radhanath Swami!

Jai to the many teachers I have met in my life and those who teach me daily. Hari Bol!

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Electric Evening with Pastor Bell

I fully expected to be standing at the Electric Factory in Philadelphia last night. It was a concert venue and General Admission tickets generally meant no seats. As a newly converted copious note taker, my plan was to sit on the floor instead of awkwardly stand with notebook and pen in hand while listening to the loved, yet controversial Pastor Rob Bell. 

When my husband and I arrived, the dark room was covered in stackable maroon chairs. The entrance way dangled colorful glowing balls of lights made of material interwoven in such a way, that my husband stared at them as we waited in line for our photo op with Pastor Bell later that evening. He was trying to figure out how the staff opened them to change a light bulb. 

On the brightly lit stage was a large triangle. I'm talking big! The length appeared only to be matched by lining up my 6'5 husband twice lying sideways.

"What's up with the triangle? I noticed he has them on his t-shirts too," my husband inquired.

"I have no idea. I guess we will see!" I replied.

About a half hour after we arrived, Real Rob Bell, as his Twitter handle indicates, took to the stage immediately providing flair you'd expect from fireworks. A tall presence, sharing my husband's light blond hair, he walked and stood purposefully on the stage. Letting his humor flip through his opening words, he loosened up the crowd. The Philadelphia audience may have been sleepy at 8:45 P.M., but not Bell. 

Pastor Bell led one of the fastest growing churches in the country until his book, Love Wins, was published. Challenging the views of mainstream American Christianity about the concepts of hell and salvation, Bell was pushed out into reaching a new audience with his sermons. 

I had no expectations. Frankly, I didn't know much about him except for a blip here and there from Oprah and author, Elizabeth Taylor. However, I found myself starting to take notes as the triangle on the stage turned into its purpose - a whiteboard. In the dark, with a small spiral notepad, I wrote for the next two hours without stopping. Whether my handwriting was legible or not, I would not know until the next day, but I could not let that stop me. 

He started with concepts like death and rebirth are happening at a cellular level every day. Plus, the concept that we are made up of star dust. There was a purpose to this story. Starting at the whiteboard, he drew a dot. And that's where it all began. Rather than jumping into a spiritual philosophical sermon, Bell spoke for almost an hour about the evolution of the world. From particles to molecules to atoms to cells to us. Building seamlessly, he bound together science into his underlying message - the next evolution of the universe is through unity. 

"Everything in the freaking universe wants to be part of something greater than itself," he said with sheer enthusiasm. 

Corny jokes and big laughs peppered his presentation along with emotional wrought stories, cutting through our defenses so he could adequately fill our mental cups with a new story, as he called it. Our universe was self-transcending. It keeps going and growing as it has for 13.8 billion years. And perhaps we are lonely, because we are being called to do something we cannot understand.

We all share the common underlying human condition of loneliness. Since the beginning of time, particles bonded together to create atoms and atoms bonded to create molecules and molecules united to form cells. To Bell, loneliness exists in all humans because we, who are made of particles, atoms, molecules and cells, are looking to bond with one another. Yet, we don't. We isolate ourselves going against the very grain of our universe.

The Big Bang created something new each time it bonded with its counterpart over the course of several billion years. Evolution after evolution happened in our universal history simply by uniting with like. 

We are like those particles, atoms, molecules and cells, seeking similar essences and energies as our own, Bell explains. The very subatomic particles in our makeup did the same thing. "We want to bond because for 13.8 billion years we have been doing this."

And from all of this bonding, comes the concept of God, or love. The former pastor danced around the word God, but not the subject. He acknowledged the stigma the word invokes for many people. In doing so, he focused on the one concept we can all appreciate - Love.

"Love is when you move beyond yourself for the well-being of another. Love is when you transcend yourself for the well-being of another."

Bell explores the thought that if we let go of hate, racism, persecution and ego, we transcend the self and bond with another. And that bond is what invites in love. It invites in God. 

"We are all deeply connected. When one suffers, we all suffer. When one rejoices, we all rejoice." 

"Is the universe done?" Bell asks. "Or are you being invited to bond with others of similar essence and substance? And if we do it well, are we creating something new?"

And to that question, Bell leaves the answer up to us. But he leaves it with a side-note. The earth itself is quite young. Humans are just got here. If you take the timeline of the existence of our planet and you use the analogy of one day, humans arrived at 11:59. How can we ask what our greater purpose is in the universe? We just got here, Bell explains.

As my husband equated, "It's like arriving at a party and instantly asking the host 'Am I having a good time? Should I have come here?' Meanwhile the host replies, 'You haven't even stepped though the doorway yet.'"

Maybe we need to go with the flow of the universe and start to bond with like energies. From there, we can relax a bit. We don't need to have all of the answers right now. 

Saturday, July 4, 2015

Leaping Without Knowing

I find that as I get older, I am more tentative with change. I am not as risk taking as I was in my youth. Even when I am called to change something, the prospect of listening to that silent wave pushing me deeper into my dharma, is put on hold. My mind like a hamster wheel wants to evaluate it and let it sit for awhile. The quiet call does not cease as my mind turns. 

As I pause at this very moment, a Grey Catbird flys over towards me, perches just a few feet away on a clothing line. It looks at me with equal curiosity, appearing to ask "what are you waiting for?" 

How often do we all pause on the precipice of change because we are scared? How often does our mind want to evaluate a calling of our soul? If we only jumped in, perhaps the waves would soften. 

Perhaps it's time, no matter how  ridiculous it may appear, to make that change that's calling us. Maybe it's time to jump in without knowing what's on the other side. 

We may fall and bang up our knees, but for all we know, that may be where our next chapter begins. Taking a page from Nike, maybe we should "Just do it." 

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Love Yourself to Love Thy Neighbor

This morning I heard the strangest bird call before I saw what happened next. Two crows were in pursuit of a hawk. As they closed the gap, they attacked the wing of the hawk. This went on for awhile with one crow dropping out and down the street I could see more fly into action. 

I wondered what happened. Is this normal behavior? Did the hawk piss off a crow? Was the hawk ill? I was horrified by the act. I sent all of them a silent blessing. 

Then I thought about how we are both the hawk and the crow, picking at ourselves. We verbally injure ourselves with words. And so we become mentally and emotionally sick thereby doing that to another human being. 

I grew up Catholic and remember strongly the saying "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." And we do. We love ourselves so little that we in turn love others the  same. We need more love, more compassion in this world. It has to start from within working its way out-after we have worked our way out of our own darkness, self-loathing. 

It is only then can we love others and see that all beings suffer. That angry person is suffering. That person on forums hating and spewing vicious words is suffering. The quiet person not looking at you is suffering. The person with cutting words wrapped around wit is suffering. You know suffering. It is why you had trouble loving yourself. 

Can you love yourself in order to love your neighbor properly? Perhaps today we can take that opportunity to be mindful of our own thoughts. 


Monday, March 23, 2015

Gratitude in Simple Moments

If I look back on my childhood, my 20's and frankly, half of my 30's, I can see that I was missing the ability to appreciate life's small, everyday moments as blessings. My mother raised my brother and I with the concept that blessings and gifts came in big ways. Literally a huge doll or dollhouse, a significant recognition, or a financial whirlwind were things that meant you were blessed. My husband on the other hand was raised differently. Gratitude could be present in homemade gifts, the way the light streamed across someone's face or kind words. I did not understand or relate until a couple of years ago.  

You think you appreciate the mundane until one day you really know what it means for things to touch your heart, to feel joy, in the deepest parts of you. 

This evening, my husband made my daughter and I a beautiful dinner. I relished every moment. I set the table with white ceramic plates. No utensils were used as we ate our vegetarian Indian meal. The spices of fennel, cinnamon and curry that wafted the air, hit our mouths with hot flavors. The more I breathed, the hotter my mouth got until I turned the fire down with handfuls of rice and gulps of water. The naan sopped up the sauce preparing me for our trip to India in October. I realized our Monday evening dinners as a family were getting fewer and fewer. My daughter will soon be off to a university in California. 

After cleaning up, I looked at my cat, Maya, who shows signs of moving into the final stage of life. She stopped cleaning herself a few months ago. Today, her eyes started looking dull, like the light of her soul was leaving her. She snuggled into one of our dog beds not moving. I thought of all those moments I took for granted, even those naughty funny moments like using a ficus tree as a bathroom in front of my husband when we started dating. As I pet her, gave her water, and fed her food bedside, I realize how grateful I am to be able to share these last moments of her life with her. 

It may sound odd to say that one can find gratitude in the death process. To be a witness to her passing, her vulnerability, and for her to let me serve her in what little way I can-it humbles me more than I can say. 

With dying pets, I have changed diapers, cleaned up accident after accident, served food and water bedside, carried them out for bathroom breaks, chanted, prayed, given Reiki and did all of those mundane tasks I did for my daughter when she was an infant. 

I wonder how present I was in my daughter's childhood. I hope that she can continue to emulate my husband and find those simple joys now and not have to wait until she is in her 30's. 

Life is beautiful. We just need to be present to recognize it. 

"We can learn to rejoice in even the smallest blessings our life holds. It is easy to miss our own good fortune; often happiness comes in ways we don’t even notice." Pema Chodron

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Feeding Your Soul

Tonight, standing in our kitchen, my daughter brewed a cup of coffee for herself while I sipped on hot cocoa. The temperature outside had dropped. Spring had quickly decided to go back into hibernation. I needed something warm to drink. She needed caffeine to finish a paper. We snacked on air-popped popcorn my husband just made for us.

My daughter relayed how she was having great dreams. So great that in the morning, she didn't want to wake up and deal with the reality of papers, exams and waiting to hear back from colleges she applied to for the fall. I suggested doing some self-introspection and recognize the blessing-that her mind protects herself in such a way that it manifests the opposite of how many of us deal with stress when we sleep. Most people, including myself, have stress-filled dreams or nightmares. As a psychology major, I thought she would be on board with this idea.

"But I've had this happen to me three times already," she said about going through this phase. She said it puts her into this tailspin of worrying more.

"Well then," I replied, "how about you think about what would make you happy if you were 100 years old and on your death bed." Not the average bedtime story moms tell their children.

"Yeah, but I worry that if I failed a test or paper and then failed a class, then I would have to report it to the colleges I applied to and then I might not get in and then I would be stuck in Pennsylvania..." she went on. She, like many, saw greener pastures in places other than home. For her, it was California.

"Yes, but that's not what you would be thinking about on your death bed. What do people think about? They don't think about what college they went to or what kind of job they had. They don't think about the car or house they had or how much money they accumulated. That's all consumption. Think about what Bhante Sujatha and other monks say. Suffering comes from attachment. All those attachments are from consumption. And you can't take your house, your job, your money with you when you die and they weren't with you when you were born. When people die, they think about how much they loved."

"And how many people they hurt," she continued.

"Yes, and the adventures they had or didn't have. They think about what filled their heart."

"So, I should think about what feeds my soul," she said connecting the dots with such ease. Which was then followed by how brilliant I was. I reminded her that she is the one that figured it out, not me. She was the one that realized that what feeds your soul is what you think of at the end of life. Those are the things that matter the most.