Whispering Tree

 

Right now school is out for Christmas break.  Which means I get two whole weeks to do…basically nothing.  I think having a lot of free time is like having a lot of money.  If you are very wise and very grounded, money can be a great blessing.  But frivolous people will misuse money.  I feel the same way about time.  Time is money.  And time that is not dedicated to anything higher or deeper is dangerous.

I knew that this two week break was coming up.  On the one hand, I relished the idea of two weeks to rest from the drama that is my life as a substitute teacher.  On the other hand, I did not know how to fill my time.  I pray each day for guidance as to how to use my time.

Maybe my prayers have been answered, because I’ve been going every day to the Field Museum, one of the greatest natural history museums in the world.

As soon as I enter the big hall, I see the fossilized skeleton of the titanosaurus.  It’s big.  They put a Christmas stocking cap on it.  Even a T-rex could not have come close to taking down a Patagonian Titanosaur.  And they put a red stocking cap on it.

I’m not trying to be negative.  I love the Field Museum.  As I said, I am going there every day.  But sometimes the holiday kitsch gets to me.  Yesterday I went to the “Evolving Planet” part of the museum.  At the entrance the attendants ask if you want to have your picture taken in front of a diorama that features ancient Jurassic vegetation, like ferns.  They didn’t tell me why, but I consented.  They told me they would give the developed photograph to me at the end of my session.  I walked through the hall and learned a lot about dinosaurs.  I stood in front of “Sue”, the most complete skeleton of a tyrannosaurus rex ever discovered.  At the end of my quest, the attendants handed the photograph to me, and I saw, digitally superimposed behind me, rearing above the ferns, ready to lunge with her cavernous mouth open and showing all her teeth, Sue. They told me I could keep the photograph for forty dollars.

I’m a fifty year old man.  I’ve seen a lot in my day.  But I never expected a museum would take my picture, not tell me what the picture was for, and then show me the developed photograph, which features me and the dinosaur, and tell me that the photograph is mine to keep for forty dollars.

“Forty dollars for a photograph!  Do you think I’m made of money!”  I screamed.

“Guess not,” said the bored attendant and threw it into the bin with hundreds of other rejected photographs.

“You’re gonna shred my photograph aren’t you?”  I kind of don’t want a photograph of me posing next to a dinosaur to follow me around in life.

“Sure,” he said non-committally.

Anyway, I learned that the Field Museum houses some of the best fossils of dinosaurs in the world.  I went from room to room, just fascinated by the variety of shapes and sizes of these ancient beasts.  I was especially awed by the Quetzalcoatlus pterosaur, which is the largest flying animal to have ever lived.  It absolutely towered over me.  If it were alive, I would not offer it a cracker.

I also spent a long time in the Pacific Island section of the museum.  They have one of the greatest collections of artwork and artifacts from Papua New Guinea, which is at once the most linguistically diverse place on earth, as well as the home of most of the last uncontacted tribes.  The New Guinea people are Melanesians, like the Australian aborigines, and were cut off from the rest of the world for sixty thousand years.  I’m fascinated by their ceremonial dancing masks and also their wooden and stone sculptures, which are unlike anything I have ever seen.  Interestingly enough, in traditional Melanesian societies, the men lived communally in a huge “Men’s House,” with roofs made of woven bamboo and sago palms.  The women and children lived separately in smaller dwellings.  The men spent their time rehearsing symbolic dances, initiating boys into the responsibilities and privileges of manhood, and exchanging stories.  The men with black and white face paint and feather head dresses and nose rings were the ones who had successfully taken the heads from an enemy tribe.  I like immersing myself in this strange and unknown culture.  Their languages are to this day very poorly attested or understood.

The Chinese hall nearby holds many statues of the Buddha, including one, inexplicably enough, from the Gandhara people of Pakistan.  That Buddha shows clear Hellenistic sculptural influences.  The Chinese collection is thrilling for the variety of its scrolls, statues and calligraphic artwork.

I’m just scratching the surface of the museum’s holdings.  It goes on seemingly forever.  Not to mention the building- a stunning example of architecture in the classical Greek style, with replicas of ancient Greek statues adorning alcoves between the first and second floors.  The Field Museum really is a wonder of the world.

So, I’m off for fourteen days, and I’m going to the Field Museum every single day.  This gets me out of my mind.  I am not alone.  I am happy in the crowd, amazed every day by these iconic and priceless treasures.

—

I’ve written about the St. Matthew Passion many times on this and other forums.  How can words ever do justice to this music? When I was still working at our Chicago breakfast house, Victory’s Banner, I had a frequent customer from Austria, who practiced meditation under the guidance of another Guru, who gave him the name “Sudha”, which I think means purity.  He told me he listens to the St Matthew Passion at least once a week as a form of Bhakti Yoga.  That’s quite a commitment, as the whole piece lasts three and a half hours.  But it makes sense.  Guru said of Bach, “You can go dive deep, deep, deep, deep into him.  Deep well.”  Guru implies here that Bach is himself a journey, a way.  Guru said elsewhere about Bach that “…His [Bach’s] music has helped mankind immeasurably.”

I recently met a young man at my college rec center who graduated from St. John’s College in Santa Fe, New Mexico.  I told him that I understand that at St Johns there is a set curriculum of classics that all students must study, and among them is the St Matthew Passion.  He told me that that is true, and they spend three months just studying the St Matthew Passion, listening to it, fathoming its depths and majesty.  I told him I get goosebumps just considering the idea of studying this piece for three months.  He then told me that at St Johns computers, cell phones and internet are banned, so the students have plenty of time to devote to study and introspection.  I was so pleased and surprised to hear this!  A school where people read actual books and the internet is banned!  It makes sense, because, a few years ago, when I went to look up the email address of a great Tolkien scholar who teaches there, I couldn’t find it!  [He does have an email address after all, but you have to basically call the school and ask for it]

After my daily forays at the Field Museum, I go home and listen to my vast and largely untapped collection of LPs, on my trusty and overworked Rega P1 turntable.  Tonight I have Haydn and Mendelssohn on the docket, though after writing this little missive I think I’ll try to sneak in a Bach cantata or two.

—

Yesterday at the Field Musuem I was in the Indigenous American wing, and I met a very lovely American Indian couple.  The husband had an American name, “Will”, and his wife had a more traditional First Nation name: “Standing Red Sky.”

When they told me their names, I said to Will that one of my favorite mantras has the word “Will” in it and I recited the immortal phrase of Sri Aurobindo: “Fate shall be changed by an unchanging Will.”

And Will took a step back and said, “Wow!”

And I turned to standing Red Sky and I recited this poem from Sri Chinmoy’s incredible collection Transcendence-Perfection:

“The sun is dancing,
The moon is dancing,
The stars are dancing.
I am dancing this moment
With the sun, moon and stars.
Next moment I am sailing
With the sky.
The sky makes me feel
That I am the vastness of Infinity’s Heart;
The sun, moon and stars make me feel
That God’s creation is for ecstasy’s beginningless birth
And endless journey.

(Sri Chinmoy, Transcendence-Perfection, Agni Press, 1975)

As I was saying the poem, Standing Red Sky nodded very slowly and I saw her identify with the poem.  I bowed to this Indian couple and they bowed to me and I felt they were the ones who drew those poems out of me, they wanted to remind me of my own inner depth.  Also, as I was reciting the poems, I felt America’s vastness, the blue skies that I remember running under during my stint on the 2005 World Harmony Run.  American Indians after all can have a very deep connection to the soul of America.  This may seem contradictory because they lived here long before the United States of America was known as such.  But Guru approaches this topic from an interesting perspective:

Question: At what point in history did the soul of America enter?

Sri Chinmoy: “As soon as God creates anything, there is no history, there is no earth-bound time. The day the Supreme created the soul is not and cannot be bound by the time that we see and vision that we consider as human time.”

(Sri Chinmoy, I need my country: Beauty’s Soul, Agni Press, 1975)

“There is no history…” Very interesting observation.

—

I received my spiritual name from Sri Chinmoy in November of 2006, just before he embarked on his last Christmas Trip, to Turkey and Thailand.  When he got back a few months later, when I would walk past him during meditations, he would smile at me.  I counted seven smiles in total- smiles of affection, compassion and oneness.  I’ll never forget them.

I still remember when I got my name- November 16^th, 2006.  One of the guards called me at the restaurant where I was stocking sodas and told me to come to the court immediately.  I got in my car, drove down and ran inside the tent in my not-recently-washed server uniform.  I ran up to the front of the room, and Guru told me to meditate for a few minutes.  I just sat down in one of the front rows, and Guru wrapped up some of his activities, giving instructions to some disciples and then he fell silent.  He was leaning his arm on the armrest of his chair, with his finger pressed to a corner of his mouth, then he switched positions, with his finger of his other hand pressing down on the other side of his mouth or chin.  He looked at me for what seemed a long while.  He didn’t look happy or sad, he just looked contemplative, reflective.  I never went to Guru’s house.  I wasn’t outwardly in his physical orbit every day.  I did not talk to him.  So, I was excited that Guru was looking at me.  I felt that we were communing with each other on a level that I do not really understand outwardly.  But those few moments, before he called me up on the stage, those minutes of his silent gaze, were the greatest gift I ever got from my Master.

—

Tomorrow I will be going with a Polish monk to the Oriental Institute at the University of Chicago, featuring the art of ancient Mesopotamia and the greater Near East, but that will be a tale for another day.

 

 

I work in special education- with students who have unique needs.  Many of them suffer from autism.  I don’t know if “suffer” is the right word.  Can you suffer from an inborn, innate and immutable part of who you are?

I have physical disabilities.  Do I suffer from them?  Yes, at times they can make my life inconvenient.  Even with amplification, my hearing is often spotty, and I will always be legally blind in my right eye.

Would I wish not to have my disabilities?  No, I would not want them to magically disappear.  I’ve learned a lot from them.  And, hey, I get a reduced Disabled Pass for Chicago Transit!  Also, when I go on airplanes, and they call for the disabled passengers, I’m always first in line.  I have to spend hundreds, and sometimes thousands of dollars a year on hearing medical devices and also special glasses for my vision (I only wear glasses for certain occasions).  So, I will milk my disabilities for everything they’re worth!

I think I might be just a little more relatable to some of the kids I work with because I also have disabilities.  Many of the children are completely non-verbal.  They often just play simple mix and match games on their ipads, tapping frantically at the screen and making incoherent noises.  I sit next to them and sing Guru’s songs under my breath.  I also meditate and try to feel my oneness with them on a soulful level.

Over the years, I’ve also had issues with mental health and wellness.  What helps more than any medicine?  Guru’s songs.  Really!  I’ve overcome so many inner problems just by taking Guru’s songs more seriously.  If I’m dealing with something inner, I will sit down and just try to sing twenty or thirty songs.  It always helps.

At the college where I swim, I meet many autistic young men.  They have a mild form of autism, but I can recognize them by the pitch of their voices, their mannerisms, their intensely focused interests.  I know who they are, but I don’t usually say, “Oh, I can tell you are autistic!”  They often get lost in ethereal trains of thought.  I cannot follow them into that realm.  I’m happy to see them in the gym because it’s especially important for ASD people to exercise, to feel grounded in the world.  This can strengthen their link to the physical world, and make them more confident socially.

I was walking in the Rogers Park neighborhood of Chicago, on my way to a school.  It was early in the morning, and I walked past an old church.  I stopped.  I felt something, and I turned and walked back to the church and looked at it.  It had a big round tower with a huge faded stained glass cross for a window.  There were weeds in the gardens around it, and some parts of the roof were sagging.  I went inside, because it happened to be open, and I saw the ceiling was a dome, in dull but beautiful gold, with paintings of angels holding books.  I bowed in front of the altar.

I remember it had a thick red carpet inside and I felt I was sinking in it.  The church had an old fashioned feeling, a deeply Christian feeling. I went next door to the thrift shop, which is owned by the church.  I spoke to the proprietor, Bobbi.  Bobbi uses “they/them” pronouns, and does not present as either gender.  I told them that I was walking past the church on my way to work and I felt a strong Christian vibration.  It pulled me.  I told them that I felt people practise prayer very intensely here.  Bobbi told me that the Church was about to close because of lack of membership, but then many people in the LGBTQ+ community started attending.  Bobbi said that the congregants are people who felt hurt or betrayed by Christianity, but that Christ has called them back to him, to love and worship only him.  I told them that the aura of the church is palpable, deeply Christian, and full of love, universal and also practical love.  When Bobbi asked my name, and I told them that my name is Mahiruha and that it is a Sanskrit word for “tree”, they were very happy and intrigued by it.  They said, “Even if you are not a practicing Christian,  you are always welcome to our Sunday morning services.”  I thanked Bobbi for the kind invite and I will try to come sometimes.

Interestingly, as I got closer to the school, I saw a convent.  There are no more convents in Chicago!  They’ve all closed, unfortunately.  But I saw a light on, and I asked the crossing guard about whether anyone still lives there.  And he told me that for many years it was abandoned, but now three nuns have moved in!  I was so happy to hear it.  I asked him if they were elderly women, and he said, “No!  One is middle aged and two are young women.”  I was very happy.  Every neighborhood should have people there whose main job is to pray.

The school I worked at had very interesting architecture, and I think the prayers of the church and the nearby convent might have something to do with the living architecture of the school- the sloping corridors, the covered tunnels that lead to the library, the huge windows and skylights.  I was assisting some special needs students in their class, when an old Muslim woman, in a traditional headdress, pulled out three students for their daily prayers.  They actually have a dedicated room in the top floor for Muslim children to pray!  I’m happy that the school has such sensitivity to the spiritual needs of these immigrant children.

I’m sure people know the book “Prayer- Language of the Soul”, a book of prayers from around the world compiled by Philip Dunn.  He quoted three of Guru’s prayers in the book, but he prefaced the main section of the book “A Gathering of Prayers” with this particular one:

“I must realise that my God-Satisfaction

Is only a prayer away.

Therefore let me embark

On my prayer-journey

Lovingly and confidently.”

(From Twenty-Seven Thousand Aspiration-Plants part 197, by Sri Chinmoy)

I saw that book for the first time in early 2001 at the now-vanished National Wholesale Liquidators bookstore on Kissena Boulevard.  One disciple saw the book there, read from it, and discovered Mr. Dunn had quoted Guru so many times.  She read out those poems from the book at a function soon after, and also said that Mr. Dunn had included a long bio on Guru, naming him as the founder of the Sri Chinmoy Oneness-Home-Peace-Run.  Guru was very amused, and said he himself had actually seen that book at the National Wholesale Liquidators but didn’t look at it because the book was “too big.”

At the end of the day, I stopped by the thrift store again, and bought some beautiful vinyl records, including a symphony by Sibelius conducted by Leonard Bernstein, and also a collection of Renaissance madrigals sung by Alfred Deller, one of the greatest counter-tenors of all time.  Then, I noticed there was a magic shop next door.  It said “Witches Coven” or something like that so I thought it was a Halloween themed place.  When I went inside and I saw the many paintings of goat skulls, and also lots of candles, incense, statues of Greek gods and goddesses and esoteric books, I realised it was an occult store.  I spoke to one of the proprietors, “Graham”, and asked him when the human sacrifice was and he said, “Monday at eight, as always!”   Then I asked him if he was Wiccan because I saw his Pentagram necklace, and he said that no, he’s an actual witch- not just a nature worshipper.  I asked him what tradition he followed and he told me he’s not allowed to tell me.  Then the co-owner stepped out from the back room.  His name is Blake.  When I saw his name tag, I recited the first stanza of William Blake’s famous poem “Tyger, Tyger burning bright.”  Both Graham and Blake looked alarmed, raised their index fingers, did something like a jig, spat over each shoulder and uttered an incantation in a different language.  I asked them what they were doing and Blake said, “We were casting a counter-spell.”

I said, “But that wasn’t a spell!  It’s a poem by William Blake!”

“Well, we nullified the spell with one of our own,” he insisted.

Then I said, “Did you cast a spell on me?  What kind of spell?”

“I’m sorry- but I am oathbound.  I cannot tell the secrets of my spells.”

Is this where our civilization is going?  Poetry is witchcraft?

Anyway, I left without buying anything from the warlocks and took a long cold journey home on old smelly Chicago trains and buses.  That night I played one of the Deller records, that featured a beautiful dirge for Henry Purcell by Dryden set to music by the unjustly forgotten composer John Blow:

“Mark how the lark and linnet sing;

With rival notes

They strain their warbling throats

To welcome in the spring.

But in the close of night,

When Philomel begins her heav’nly lay,

They cease their mutual spite,

Drink in her music with delight,

And list’ning and silent obey…”

Such beautiful music, beautiful poetry, and so soulfully sung.  I got these records for a song and was able to hear these beautiful ancient songs.  Life is good, after all.

 

During the 2006-2007 Christmas Trip, one of my friends observed two disciples arguing in front of Guru.  The first disciple, “Larry” contended that Guru’s meditation has changed over the years.  He referred to some of the early meditations that have been recorded (for example, this one) and said that it appears, in the early days, that Guru took a little time to enter into his highest consciousness.  His eyes would go up, and swivel, and seek, and his face would change expression as he passed from world to world, until he was fully submerged in his highest meditation.  It took a few minutes.  He contrasted that with his then-current meditations, where he would simply close his eyes for a second and would enter immediately into his highest consciousness.His interlocutor, “David” angrily protested and said, “No, Guru’s meditations have always been the same!”

Guru took Larry’s side!  He indicated that his meditations did change.  This is not totally illogical!  Guru did say that he had transcended his own Transcendental Consciousness, which is inconceivable!  Even at that level, this unparalleled height, the Master manifested progress.  I actually enjoy watching those old videos!  I like watching Guru’s eyes move, and the incredible volcanic intensity on his face.  But, he transcended that in his later years.  I guess he could enter into God-Height the way most of us drink Coca-Cola.

—

Yesterday, I was waiting in a crowded bus terminal to catch a Greyhound to the far-western suburbs.  It was crowded and loud.  To pass the time I listened to Messiaen’s Quatuor Pour La Fin Du Temps(Quartet For The End Of Time), which is such a sublime work.  Just sitting there, in a big crowd, with some people smoking, listening on my blue tooth (which connects directly to my implants), I had one of the most remarkable musical experiences of my life.  I tend to avoid streaming or listening to music online.  I’m attached to my records.  But it felt right to listen to that piece at that moment.  It sounds like a cross between French Impressionist music and Argentinian tango, upbeat and nostalgic at the same time.  It was a remarkable performance, and I realised that music appreciation depends on my receptivity in the moment.  At that very point in time I was open to the music, and it lifted me higher.  He actually wrote it while interred in a Nazi labor camp!  The piece is oddly scored- for a cello, clarinet, violin and piano.  But those were all the musicians available in the camp.  The cello was missing a couple of strings to boot!  And yet it works, it takes me on a journey.  Whenever I’m waiting in line in a crowded place, the “Quartet For The End Of Time” will be my go-to musical solace.

—

The day after Sundar died I had to take an Uber to work because of the harsh weather.  I never do this, but my back was against the wall and I had no choice.  My driver was a very educated Frenchman, and we discussed our shared love of Post-Impressionism and late Beethoven string quartets.  He made me laugh.  I told him I practised meditation with a spiritual Master and when he inquired about my unusual name I told him it meant “fast-climbing tree.”  As I was getting out of the car he gave me the kindest smile and said, “You are the most beautiful tree I will see today!”

I felt at that moment that maybe Sundar’s soul  had sent this man to give me a little consolation.

When I walked into the store, I had the strangest experience.  I noticed that the grocery store was absolutely beautiful.  I felt so uplifted by the beautiful store.  I never had that experience before. I asked my friend, who is a Goth, if he noticed the store had gained celestial beauty overnight.  He said, with a smile, “No, it still looks like a crypt!”   Once again, I wondered if Sundar’s soul was blessing me, and helping me to see the beauty and wonder in my everyday life.

Then, later in the day, I had an inner experience.  I can’t really go into detail, but I got a little message from Guru!  I don’t usually have this kind of certainty about my inner experiences!  Usually I have to take care to separate my inner experiences from my mental hallucinations.  But in this case, I feel it was real, and I can stand behind it.  It was a nice experience- Guru was saying something nice about my appreciation and love for his poetry.  Once again, I feel that Sundar’s soul blessed me from a different plane of consciousness and gave me a little extra receptivity.  That’s a real friend.

We’ll be Celebrating the 50^th anniversary of Guru’s completion of Transcendence-Perfection (843 poems done in 24 hours) in New York this week.  I’ll be there.  I am really looking forward!

I only had one extensive discussion with the Master, and that is my question and his immortal answer on the great composers Bach and Beethoven.  Recently someone gave me the good news that my transcription of this talk has, after nineteen years, finally appeared in book form.  I am so, so happy.  I transcribed this talk and sent it out to be compiled and eventually published.  But one of the things that I found striking, as I was transcribing it, was how carefully Guru chose his words, sometimes pausing mid sentence for a few seconds to find just the right word.  Often he would preface statements by saying things like “This is just my own inner feeling or observation.”

I’ve shared a lot of personal information about my life on this and other forums.  I guess the fact that I write on public forums means that I have to write in an organized way that other people can understand.  But that becomes a kind of self-therapy.  I feel the act of writing and sharing gives me more control.  I put my problems (and yes, adventures, triumphs and foibles) down on the page.  I can see them.  I can name them.

A friend of mine called me a while back, and mentioned some aspects of my life that I’ve shared here, and gave me an unsolicited summary, mostly in his own words, of the Master’s views on them.  He mentioned “The Cosmic Law” several times.  I thanked him for his kind and illumining commentary and then excused myself, as I was in the middle of cooking hash browns.

As I was eating my crisped hash browns, after my friend’s sermon, I reflected that there are no outsiders in Guru’s world.  There is no-one we can call the “other.”  We’re all just reflections of God, manifested in the world.  My friend basically said that people like me are not in harmony with the cosmic law.  I just inwardly laughed but said nothing.  I laughed because the cosmic law is my only friend.  It is the sign of God’s Grace that we live in a world of cause and effect and can therefore find the fastest routes to progress.  And the cosmic law is infinitely supple and generous.

If there is a sincere inner cry, then the cosmic law will support the seeker, will carve out for the seeker innumerable breaks and exceptions.  Aspiration and a sincere inner cry are superior to our mental formulations of the universal laws.

The Master is always right, and the truths of all the scriptures, if they are both timeless and universal, are to be venerated and upheld.  But the problem is that truth is living and flexible, and often inscrutable.  We come to understand it through decades, even lifetimes of spiritual discipline.  For unillumined people like my friend, and of course, like me, to promulgate the law like Emperor Augustus, is just silly.

Ultimately it doesn’t matter what is written in the shastras or (please pardon me) even what Guru said.  What matters is whether we have realised these divine truths in our own being, and are expressing those truths in God’s own Way.

My friend called me a few days later and offered me a genuine apology for his hasty words.  I thanked him, but I am also guilty of misusing Guru’s language, or misapplying it.  Guru said that there is a particular nation where the people possess such oneness with Mother Nature, and such simplicity, that we do not even have to meditate.  We can just mix with the people, absorb their simplicity, and this will be like meditation.  Once I was working on a manifestation project with a gentleman from this country and I told him what Guru said, that the people there are extremely simple and we don’t have to meditate because the people have such a meditative consciousness.  And he said, “Well, actually we are very busy with our own lives, and we’re just trying to get through the day like everybody else.”

What Guru said was very nice- the people in this nation are simple.  It’s fine if these words come from the Master, because the Master was offering these observations to a particular group of devotees in a particular context.  It’s different when it comes out of the mouth of Mahiruha, where it comes across as something like: “Look at the noble savages!  They have such an easy life, unencumbered by running water and Snap Chat!”

This person was right to be offended.  It was a stupid mistake on my part, and I’ve learned.

Once an Indian politician was asked about her sister, who was taken hostage by religious extremists, but was eventually released after the Indian government paid a large ransom.  The question was whether she felt the government did the right thing by buying off the terrorists.  And she said, “Today, as a sister, I will say she should have been freed.  Tomorrow, as a politician, I may say something else.”

And this is why Guru was so careful even when answering a totally non-controversial question like the comparative genius of Beethoven and Bach.  Any remark, however innocent, can be de-contextualized and twisted.

As a seeker, you have all the truths.  Your own realisation will shine far, far brighter than all the scriptures and commentaries ever will.

This poem is most relevant:

“Poise is the hyphen
Between what you have heard
From God
And what you have told humanity.”

(Sri Chinmoy, Ten Thousand Flower-Flames, part 50, Agni Press, 1982)

 

I’m listening to Haydn’s Opus 50 quartet no 3, in E, one of the strangest quartets ever written.  Hayn’s music is characterized by concision and economy, but in the opus 50 quartets, the laconic quality becomes almost oppressive.  It’s like Haydn’s playing racquetball in the tiniest court, and hitting the ball from every possible angle, until you can’t believe the inexhaustible nature of Haydn’s imagination, turning leftover Turkey bones from Thanksgiving into the most miraculous post-holiday meal.  The music resists labels like happy or sad; Haydn is all about life expressing life for its own sake.

I sometimes get the sense that Haydn had serious mental and emotional problems, but that he took them by the throat and made them work for him.  He sublimated them into his music and forced them to dance; he turned his worst inner enemies into his most effective and eloquent servants.  Anyone can listen to Haydn’s music and follow suit; he teaches you how to live a beautiful life.

***

Today I was talking to a fellow teacher about various external world situations.  She told me that she believes in God and that God will take care of the world.  I appreciated her wisdom and quoted Guru’s aphorism: “Falsehood is fearless.  Truth is deathless.”  I said it four or five times.  She was so moved!

“Falsehood is fearless.  Truth is deathless.”

She asked me what I felt it meant and I explained that we usually think of fearlessness as a positive quality.  But in the case of falsehood, it is not good for it to be fearless.

“Fools rush in where angels fear to tread,” warned Alexander Pope.

Falsehood has no fear because it is arrogant, and does not see the red lights.  Fearlessness based on stupidity is not a good thing.  Just because you don’t see the stop sign does not protect you from the oncoming traffic.

“Truth is deathless.”

It’s an interesting formula, isn’t it?  Falsehood is fearless, but not deathless.  Truth is deathless.

Falsehood’s bravery, its “fearlessness” will take it to an early grave.

Truth has nothing to fear from falsehood’s fearlessness.  It is deathless.  It does not have to exhibit its bravery.  It knows what it has and what it is.  It is eternal, immortal, deathless.

As I repeated the mantra for my colleague six or seven times, I felt the power behind the words.  She grabbed a piece of paper and wrote it down.  I always like it when people value Guru’s poetry.

***

Interestingly, those many years ago, nineteen years now, when Guru was answering my question on Beethoven and Bach, he said at one point, and this is my paraphrase, “When we think of Beethoven, it is like a fully blossomed tree- very huge tree.”  And when Guru uttered those words I leaned into the microphone and said “Yes!”

But I have the recording, and my “Yes!” did not register on the tape.  But I clearly remember saying it.  Maybe I did not say it into the microphone?

But Guru must have noticed my reaction to his comparing Beethoven to a tree, I guess, because when I got my spiritual name a few weeks later, it included the word “Tree.”  Guru’s awareness and discernment is so fine, and so exact.

I was telling another co-worker of mine about the meaning of my name.  Guru wrote, in explication of “Mahiruha”:  “The God-seeker and the God-lover’s fastest God-climbing aspiration-Tree.”  And I really felt the significance of my name!  I rarely think of it, the meaning.  So, today I decided to devote my time after work to explicitly spiritual activities:  I listened to some of Guru’s records, including “Meditation-Sun”, produced by the Canadian disciples around 1977, and I also read some of Vidagdhas’ diaries of her life with Guru in the Eighties.  Today I read about Guru’s wonderful meeting with the comedian Eddie Murphy in 1988.  Guru had a banner created for him that read : “Welcome Eddie Murphy, Emperor of Parody”.  I think I heard that Guru really like Eddie Murphy’s smile.

A poem I stumbled across in my study of Sri Chinmoy’s 1978 book From the Source, To the Source:

 

“O sun of my soul,

I devotedly love your deity.

O moon of my heart,

I soulfully love your beauty.

O star of my life,

I surprisingly love your purity.

O sky of my search,

I amazingly love your generosity.”

 

I love that first line especially: “O sun of my soul, I devotedly love your deity.”  I remember when Guru gave me my name on 16 November 2016, and I was looking into Guru’s eyes and Guru wasn’t meditating, he was contemplating.  If people can find the video “Concentration, Meditation, Contemplation” where Guru demonstrates these three realities, they can see the vast gulph between meditation and contemplation.  As I looked at Guru as his eyes began moving, each on its own track and trajectory, I had the strangest feeling that I was looking at Guru not as a disciple, but as a peer.  It lasted only a fraction of a second, a nanosecond, and then I was back to being a disciple, a devotee, an aspirant.  But I saw something.

Maybe this poem, from Twenty-Seven Thousand Aspiration-Plants may shed some light on my experience:

 

“True, you have felt something divine
Inside your Master
At least for a fleeting second.
But to his extreme sorrow
You have not felt anything divine
Inside yourself.
Before you pass
Behind the curtain of Eternity,
Your Master wants you to feel
Something divine
Inside your own heart,
Even for a fleeting second.”

(Sri Chinmoy, Twenty-Seven Thousand Aspiration-Plants, part 15, Agni Press, 1983)

A close friend of our Sri Chinmoy family here in Chicago works as a naturopath/homeopathist, and he treats disciples free of charge as a service.  Out of the blue, he contacted me recently and asked if I still gave tours at our great local art museum- the famed Art Institute of Chicago.  I told him I did, and he asked if I would give a tour of the museum to a young man, and also tell him a little bit about our Guru, Sri Chinmoy, as he is very interested in our way of life.  Of course I agreed!

 

I met this seeker, “Mark”, at the museum.  Accompanying him was his dearest life-long friend “Steven.”  I did a double take as soon as I met Mark.  I knew him from somewhere, but I couldn’t place it.  But his speech, his mannerisms, his face, were all strangely familiar.  I gave the guys the whole grand tour of the museum.  At one point, I was standing in front of one of my favorite paintings, “The Plough and the Song” by the great Armenian painter Arshile Gorky.

I told them my own feelings about the way Gorky captured the life-breath of another dimension in his paintings- how they represent life itself on a different level of consciousness.  This is why his paintings are so engaging and full of life.  I also quoted from Sri Chinmoy’s words on how to recognize a soulful work of art, and I applied it to Gorky’s masterpiece:

“If a work of art makes you feel that there is a most beautiful child inside it, you can know that it is a soulful work of art. If you see inside it a most beautiful child, and if you feel that this child is talking to you and you are talking to him, then you can know that it is soulful art.”

(From Sri Chinmoy, Art’s life and the soul’s light, Agni Press, 1974)

 

As soon as I mentioned the name “Sri Chinmoy” Mark’s whole face changed.  He told me he was sitting in the chiropractor’s office- it was his first visit, and he just looked at one of the Jharna Kalas that the doctor kept on the wall, and that he started shedding tears.  He told me that he is an artist, and is getting his PhD in visual art, but the moment he saw Sri Chinmoy’s artwork he wanted to do his PhD on Sri Chinmoy’s Jharna Kalas, or at the very least incorporate what Sri Chinmoy did into his own artwork.

Mark told me, “I told my chiropractor that I had just got back from Pondicherry.  I was on a pilgrimage to Sri Aurobindo’s Samadhi.  I have always loved Aurobindo.  When I got back I decided to pursue a course of naturopathy treatment.  But the moment I saw Sri Chinmoy’s Jharna Kalas, I realised I had gone all the way to Pondicherry and back just to learn that Sri Aurobindo is my uncle, and Sri Chinmoy is my father, my God-Father.”

I was so startled- I was speechless!

He then told me he immediately ordered Sri Chinmoy’s books Transcendence-Perfection and My Flute and he read them cover to cover.  I started reciting poems from both books and Mark was so happy and gratified that I knew these poems by heart.  He told me that Sri Chinmoy’s poems stay with him more than any poems ever have.

I realised then that this was the very reason I felt that I knew Mark, from the first moment we met.  He is an inner disciple of my Guru, and has been so since his very birth!
And this connects exactly to my last post- that Guru’s new children are coming.  Mark is just twenty-eight years old, yet he has at least a lifetime of intuitive knowledge of Guru inside him.

Steven is still seeking for a path, I believe, but supports Mark wholeheartedly in his journey.  Steven asked me a volley of questions afterwards in the car, on our way to an Indian restaurant, but very perceptive, respectful and insightful questions.  He was impressed that I read Guru’s books for many hours a day, and that he told me “You have a great knowledge of your Teacher.”

At the restaurant, Mark told me that his art mentor at his school was thrilled to learn that he has become so deeply interested in Sri Chinmoy’s artwork, because he too admires Sri Chinmoy.  One day, sometime after he had informed his professor of his love and admiration for Guru’s Jharna Kalas, he  was drawing a three part abstract painting in class, a triptych.  His professor stood behind him and watched him paint for a long time.  It was an abstract work, with no words or anything representational.  But his professor pointed to the left panel and said, “This part represents one of Sri Chinmoy’s ancient incarnations.”  He pointed to the panel on the far right and said, “This is one of Sri Chinmoy’s more modern incarnations.”  And then he indicated the central panel and said, “This is Sri Chinmoy’s most recent life- as Sri Chinmoy.  You have captured three incarnations of Sri Chinmoy.  This is excellent!”

 

During Mark’s first visit to New York, I showed him all the original paintings at Annam Brahma and at the Smile of the Beyond.  One of the most senior disciples noticed how spellbound Mark was by Guru’s paintings, and gave him one of his own original Jharna Kalas!

I am so grateful to these new disciples, these fiery aspirants and God-lovers.  They are the future.

 

About three years ago, on a warm summer’s day, I read my Master’s immortal book Obedience or Oneness three times.  I really feel that book is immortal, and it speaks to me on a deep level.  Guru told us many times that we should study his writings, and he insisted that we mark the sections and phrases that speak most powerfully to us.  Around that time, three years ago, I was thumbing through the book, and I realised I had underlined each and every single word!  What’s the point of underlining a book if you’re going to underline everything?  It defeats the purpose.  But then I realised that the ink that I put in that book comes from me, so it is my ink that merges with the printed words, so there is something of my own consciousness in that book.

Anyway,  on that summer’s day, I read the book three times, and it took me four and a half hours.  That night I had a significant dream.  In my dream, I was participating in a walk-past at the end of a public meditation, and the leaves on the trees told me it was mid-autumn.  It was cool.  Behind me was a seeker, we shall call him “Marshall” that I met at a local college.  Years ago, I gave him a copy of Beyond Within.  Anyway, Marshall was directly behind me, meditating very seriously, with folded hands.  When it was my turn to stand in front of Guru and take prasad, Guru acknowledged me with a little smile and a half-wave.  But when Marshall stood in front of Guru, Guru stopped the prasad line and embraced him, shedding tears of joy.  He put a flower garland around Marshall’s neck, blessed him, and gave him a spiritual name on the spot!

In the next scene in the dream, Marshall and I were on a train, heading back to the airport.  He showed me the paper on which Guru had written his spiritual name, and I saw it had something to do with Krishna.   He told me he comes every year in the autumn, during the public functions.  In my dream, many young people, college students, come every Fall to see the Master, and Marshall was one of those who made the annual pilgrimage.

I’ve thought about this dream often in the years since.  Why did Guru lavish such love and affection on this boy, but barely acknowledged me at all?

Maybe one possible interpretation is that I had my time with Guru, and now Guru is focusing on the next generation of seekers.  I had my Master on the physical plane, and now Guru is drawing people towards him on the inner plane.  These people will blossom into real, conscious seekers in the course of time.  I think Guru said the best way to bring people to his path is just to meditate, meditate, meditate.  Meditate long hours every day.  People will feel  something in us, and they will want to have that thing for themselves, that poise, that joy.  We can deepen our spirituality, and this will attract the real seekers, the ones who need inner light.

I find that when I read Guru’s books for a few hours a day, I do get these kinds of inner experiences.  Guru said to at least look at the covers of his books if we can’t be bothered to read them!

 

 

I’ve written before about the Peace Concert that Sri Chinmoy gave at the Riverside Church on 23 August 2000.  It was special because I felt the presence of Jesus Christ at the end, as Sri Chinmoy was playing the organ.  Hundreds of other disciples had the same experience, and it is the only time in my entire discipleship that I had that kind of collective interaction.  We all felt it.  I just remember there was a second source of divine Consciousness that opened up in the room, in the back right corner of the cathedral.  It was so palpable, so moving, and yes, more than a little frightening.  Such pure energy, pure power.  Interestingly enough, it began with a voice inside of me saying, “It’s an Avatar!”

I told that to my friend from California, that my first reaction to Christ’s presence was this inner certainty that I was dealing with another Avatar.  I said to him that there must be some faculty in human beings that enables them to recognize an Avatar.  And he looked at me and said, “Yes.  That is called your soul!”

I had to laugh, because my friend is right.  What is this mysterious apparatus within us that can recognize divine beings and inner Light?  It’s the soul!

I told another disciple about this experience with Christ at Riverside, and he said he believes me when I say that Christ did come that day.  But he told me that another way I could look at it is that my past life came forward, and I was perceiving and receiving from Christ as a Christian devotee from several centuries ago.  Something descended from above, but also something from within me came forward.

Interestingly enough, I felt that same way when I got my spiritual name from Sri  Chinmoy in 2006.  He was looking at me in silence and I felt other people were looking through my eyes at Guru, and I think those other people were some of my past incarnations.

As soon as Guru began playing the organ, I felt a cold wind in the cathedral, and tears came to my eyes, and I began thinking of Mother Mary, the Mother of God.  I told this to another friend of mine, who used to make furniture but now cuts vegetables.  I asked him why I felt cold when Mary came as a harbinger to her Son.  It was not an unpleasant coldness.  It was like the wind off the ocean.  And he said, “Well, her colors are blue and white.”

And I realised these are cool colors!  White and Blue.  Purity and Infinity.

Finally, Sri Chinmoy was infinitely more aware of Christ and Mary’s arrival than we were.  But he did not stop playing the organ, or make any announcement.  God within him told him to play the organ, and he played completely beautifully.  In the inner world, I am sure Guru saluted Christ and his Mother most soulfully.  But his outer performance was unaffected.  To do our duty perfectly in both the inner and outer world, we need infinite poise.

I wonder at the experiences I have had with my Master, Sri Chinmoy.  I just have to shake my head in wonder.  How else can I respond to something like this?

 

I was at the local University gym yesterday, and I saw a graduate student wearing a T-shirt that said something striking:

“Always be yourself-

Unless you can be Batman-

Then always be Batman.”

This reminded me of one of my favorite aphorisms of my Teacher, Sri Chinmoy, from the twenty-eighth volume of Seventy-Seven Thousand Service Trees (poem #27834):

“Be infinitely more than just yourself.”

 

Many years ago I was sitting in the lobby of this same gym, rehearsing poems from Sri Chinmoy’s immortal collection The Golden Boat.  I was repeating them silently, although my lips were moving.  A young Asian woman, as she was passing by, smiled and waved at me.  I had never met her.  I then realised that she wasn’t waving at me, she was responding to Guru’s vibration and was greeting him.  I was just the medium.  I was happy that I was successful in manifesting Guru on that vibrational level.  Similarly, I remember after I recited the one thousand poems of The Wings of Light in 2021, how I became a different person for twenty-four hours afterwards.  I was already back in Chicago and people would stop in the street and just look at me.  I don’t think I had grown horns.  They felt something of Sri Chinmoy in my aura, and that’s why they would stop and smile.

I wrote in February about the experience that preceded my foot fracture.  The night before I broke my foot, I had to do some late night shopping at the local convenience store.  The cashier was bored and rude.  I was dismissive and curt in return.  We were irritated with each other, and I left the store in a bad consciousness.

The next day, I slipped on the ice and broke my foot.  I felt that my fracture was at least partly a result of my bad interaction with the cashier the night before.  It was a vibrational consequence.

Today I had to go back to this same pharmacy to get a prescription filled.  This time the lady at the window was every bit as callous, desultory and incompetent as the cashier had been.  She told me my prescription would take only twenty minutes to fill.  I came back in an hour and she said, “Give us ten more minutes!”

When I attempted to ask her a question about my order, she yelled at me for not staying in line.

I did not argue, but I indicated through my intonation, and some diplomatic language, that I thought she was terrible at a public-facing job.  I was right.

I left the store in a bad mood.

Then I realised I had made a serious mistake.

“Oh no,” I thought to myself, “What am I going to break now?”

So, I stood outside the store, just two feet in front of the double automatic doors, by the bike racks, and I very quietly recited from memory the whole program of Guru’s spiritual poems that I delivered over the August Celebrations.  I took me twelve minutes to say the whole thing most soulfully.  I felt I needed to say these words someplace within the vicinity of the store.  I had to heal that vibration, and keep the anger and irritation from spreading and affecting other people or causing some misfortune in my life.  I had to heal it and fix it.

Finally, I got on my bike in a much better consciousness.

I feel that the public recitation of Guru’s words is a way of planting a seed of higher consciousness in these places.

Be infinitely more than yourself.  Be your highest, purest, kindest, and greatest Self.  Even Batman will admire you.

The Master insisted that when we read his books, that we mark the passages we like, so that we can return to them again and again.  He even said we can write notes in the margins, and take his books as life-long projects for study.  He said that marking the sections we like most, and writing our own thoughts, would really help us.  I have, in fact, taken to journaling in my Guru’s books- I write down in the margins my inner experiences, sometimes I include last night’s dreams, or inspiring things that happened to me that day.

Yesterday I was reading Sri Chinmoy Answers Part One, Book Five, published by Ganapati Press.  And I found a note, a journal entry, I had made on the bottom of page 162:

“‘Your Guru really believed in you!’  A Filipina woman said                                      this to me to me today when I told her the meaning of my                                        name.”

-14 December 2021

AUM

 

I spent a couple hours reading Book Five yesterday, and I don’t remember that woman, or what I wrote, but when I read that, I burst into tears, bitter tears, but also tears of gratitude that that woman could have told me something so soulful and meaningful when I told her the significance of my name.

Please keep a diary, and please read Guru’s books.  You can even write your experiences in Guru’s books so that you can find double the wealth in them.