Wales, Affirmations, and Mother Kali

 

 

Today an older couple came to my line.  The man had deep wrinkles, and grey eyes.  He had hair like Dylan Thomas, so I offered him a discount if he could name the author of a particular poem.  He accepted the challenge, so I recited the first and the last stanzas of Thomas’ great poem, “Fern Hill,” which deals with the vanishing landscape of childhood and the innocence we can never fully recover.  The concluding line stays with me: “Time held me green and dying, though I sang in my chains like the sea.”

 

I knew I was reciting well because I felt myself step away from my body and I just observed my lips move and I felt the sound being generated by my throat, but I wasn’t involved.  I don’t have that experience very often, where I enter into a state of trance, but when I do experience that kind of dissociative “trance”, where I’m not there, then I know I’m reciting well.  That’s the experience I had today.  Both he and his wife were so moved.

He paused and asked if the author was Dylan Thomas and I said “Yes!”

 

So I gave him a free health candy bar.

 

Sri Chinmoy wrote something interesting about Dylan Thomas.  He happened to have been speaking of Emily Dickinson but he said something also about Thomas, almost as an aside:

 

Emily Dickinson wrote thousands of psychic poems. One short poem of hers is enough to give sweet feelings and bring to the fore divine qualities of the soul. Dylan Thomas’ poems also have that quality, although Thomas sometimes has been misunderstood.”

 

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

 

Dylan Thomas is of course the great Welsh poet.  Vidagdha Bennett, a scholar and chronicler of Sri Chinmoy’s life, recorded the Master’s impressions of Wales from 30 October 1991:

 

When I was there first time, everything was crying with joy.  Such haunting memories!  There I was born and raised.  Who can forget Wales?  Such simple people.  When I see my development since that incarnation, not in simplicity ways but in other ways.  For simplicity I should go back to that incarnation.  When I see simple people I get such joy.  They are real jewels.”

(Taken from “Notes from a Vagabond Disciple 1991, 1992, 1993” by Vidagdha)

 

I feel a strong attraction to Wales.  I have never been there, but the very name gives me great joy.  I grew up in a small town in southeastern Pennsylvania that had been founded by Welsh settlers.  All the towns and villages around had Welsh names: Bryn Mawr, Bala Cynwyd, Gladwyne, Radnor, Wayne.

 

I read and re-read The Lord of the Rings in middle school, and fell in love with Elvish names- Galadriel, Lothlorien, Sindarin, Elendil.  Much later I learned that Tolkein had been inspired and influenced by Welsh!

 

I read Susan Cooper’s The Dark is Rising series as a child, a refiguring of Welsh mythology for the twentieth century.  I can still recite the opening couplets by heart:

 

“When the Dark comes rising six shall turn it back;
Three from the circle, three from the track;
Wood, bronze, iron; Water, fire, stone;
Five will return and one go alone.

Iron for the birthday; bronze carried long;
Wood from the burning; stone out of song;
Fire in the candle ring; water from the thaw;
Six signs the circle and the grail gone before.

Fire on the mountain shall find the harp of gold
Played to wake the sleepers, oldest of old.
Power from the Green Witch, lost beneath the sea.
All shall find the Light at last, silver on the tree.”

 

Also as a child I read Lloyd Alexander’s wonderful fantasy series The Chronicles of Prydain, also based on Welsh mythology.  Such beautiful books!  How I wish we could inspire young people to start reading again!

A very nice older lady came to my line today.  Her name is Nadine.  She asked me how I was doing and I told her my hangover is getting better.  She laughed (thank God!) and then she told me she comes to my line whenever she can to hear some wisdom.  She was wondering if I had any wise words to impart.

 

I recited this poem by Sri Chinmoy:

 

“Be indifferent to blame and praise.
You will be happy.

Don’t be sick of solitude.
You will be happy.

Discard the splendour of desire.
You will be happy.

Recognise not the ranklings of jealousy.
You will be happy.

Let death be inaugurated in your vital’s volcano-pride.
You will be happy.”

Sri Chinmoy, Transcendence-Perfection, Agni Press, 1975

 

 

She smiled, radiant and sincere, and told “This wisdom I have received today.”

 

I then asked her a question I often ask my customers- to tell me three things, apart from health and family, that she is grateful for.  I ask people to put aside health and family because those are stock answers, and I just want people to think a little.  She came up with three things for which she is grateful:

 

  • The awareness of how to be grateful
  • To give and receive a smile
  • The emotion of awe

 

I knew then that this woman is a spiritual seeker, and I asked her to repeat her selections and I wrote them down.  Nobody has ever given me such excellent answers, founded upon the heart’s awakening, wisdom that comes from heart-cry.

 

 

 

Last week, many people at my store caught some virus and had to call off.  So I did not have time to recite poetry for my customers.   I was too busy, the lines were too long, we were short-staffed in the extreme.   So I just sang the Master’s Kali bhajans, devotional songs for Mother Kali (the Goddess of speed and power) as I rung and bagged.  People smiled at me as they heard the songs..  They saw that I was happy and in a good consciousness, and that made them happy.  True, I could not recite any poems last week, but I could sing and chant, and offer Guru’s light in a different way.  I’m not the best singer, but I am not shy.  There is always a way to manifest.

 

Corn chips and theology

 

smile-beyond2
Smile of the Beyond

A few weeks ago, I dreamt I was at our little diner in Jamaica, Queens- “The Smile of the Beyond”- founded I think in 1975.  It’s just a little breakfast house tucked away between a laundromat and a dry cleaning store, and is operated by fellow devotees of Sri Chinmoy.

smile-beyond-Photo-May-28-7-50-14-PM

It was late at night and my dear friend Sanatan, who passed away a few years ago, was working behind the counter, maybe cutting vegetables.  He used to do a lot of the chopping, I think.  He also worked as a merchandiser for local supermarkets.  Unknown to most of his colleagues in the outer world, Sanatan was also an artisan, a craftsman, an artist, and an absolutely sleepless server to my Master, Sri Chinmoy.  He was a rare breed.  I miss him very much.

I asked him in my dream a very simple question: “Sanatan, now that are no longer alive, now that you are in the soul, can you tell me something about God?”

And Sanatan just paused in his chopping and he reached for a bag of corn chips and opened it.  He reached inside for a chip, and before biting down on it he just looked at me and said, “I am what I am.”

What does this mean?  I think Sanatan was trying to warn me against unnecessary intellectualization.  God is something to be experienced and felt, not to be analyzed.  God doesn’t care for our mental analysis.  God just is.  Sanatan is telling me to live in the heart.  The heart accepts life as it is.  Only through accepting life can we transform it.  I mentioned in one of my earlier posts, where I saw a graffiti mural on the wall of an underpass- it was an image of balloons in the evening twilight, all different colours.  Hovering just above the other balloons was one sky-blue balloon, set off against the dark blue of the sky.  Inside this balloon there was just one thought-bubble.  It said: “Be.”

Just be.  One of Guru’s books is entitled “God IS”.

God is.

“I am what I am.”

Thank you, Sanatan.

Dream and destiny



The other night I dreamt that I was having a soulful talk with a devoted disciple. I’ve known him for many years. I feel in him a lot of genuine devotion and purity.

I told him that I miss the Master’s outer presence. I was spoiled! I lived in New York, and was with Guru ten months out of every year! An unfathomable blessing. For me, the public meditations at PS 86 will always remain immortal in my memory. We didn’t really have the school to meditate in after 2001, but for the first four years of my discipleship, I remember how Guru’s aura, his energy, absolutely flooded the building. I will never forget that as long as I live.

During the course of our discussion, in my dream, I asked my friend about what it meant to have Guru in the physical. What did my life mean when I had Guru in the body?

He looked at me and said, “Mahiruha, that was your preparation.”

Then I asked my friend what does it mean now that I no longer have my Guru in the physical. He said, very simply, “This is the race.”

That was your preparation. This is the race.

What does this mean?

I’ve discussed this cryptic message with several disciples.

I guess the meaning is self-explanatory. When I had my Master in the physical, I was like a baby. My only job was to listen, to witness, to absorb.

On the one hand, every spiritual Master has said that when you have a living Guru, it is the optimal time to make spiritual progress. Sri Ramakrishna spoke of the udder and the cow. When your Guru is alive, you can establish an intimate connection with him. If the connection is strong, then even after he leaves the body, you can still contact him through your own meditation.

On the other hand, if a disciple depends on the Master’s outer dictates for every problem, that can be a little limiting. Guru says that God’s Will can change at every moment. The greatest aspirants are aware of the supple liminal nature of this Will, which is ultimately ineffable. If a seeker needs the Master’s outer input for every problem, he might not be developing his own subtle powers of discrimination.

I’ve been thinking about growing up recently. I just watched “Spirited Away” the delightful Studio Ghibli film that treats the topics of adolescence, fear and self-awareness with great symbolism and compassion. I recommend it very highly. Every single frame is hand-drawn, as Mr. Miyazaki, the director and doyen of Japanese animation, has a long-held suspicion of computers.

I’ve also been thinking of growing up in relation to spiritual names. I begged Guru for years, inwardly, outwardly, in my dreams, for a name. When I read his handwritten interpretation of my name, “The God-seeker and the God-lover’s fastest God-climbing aspiration-Tree” I realized he was telling me something I already knew. It’s almost two names in one, separated by the word “fastest”.

On the one hand, I am a God-seeker and God-lover. On the other hand I am the God-climbing, aspiring tree.

Seeking, loving, climbing, aspiring, all brought into focus in the symbol of the tree.

The tree means sacrifice, rootedness, shelter, protection, strength, patience, wisdom.

But underpinning all these activities and symbols is the one word: fastest.

At the same time, it is a little cryptic. I’m not only the tree, I’m also the climber. One moment I am the tree, the next moment I am climbing the tree itself. Guru gave me a koan to meditate on. Such was his generosity and kindness towards me.

I often feel lost or confused in my life. But here Guru is telling me to remain in aspirational activities. In that aspiring mode, my mistakes, problems, loneliness, confusion, will become drawn into that divine cyclone of Guru’s consciousness. They will imbibe light if I can keep aspiring. My mental problems and vital attachments, and my sense of inertia, will change into something else. Nothing needs to be destroyed, I just need to aspire. Then the transformation will occur spontaneously, in time.

I don’t think you ever stop growing up. I’m almost forty-eight years old, but I’m still learning how to put stuff away. This includes not just keeping a clean room, but also a clean heart.

Guru says illumining the heart is much more difficult than illumining the mind. Why is this so? He didn’t explain. Maybe this is because the heart keeps life’s most painful experiences. Even if it forgives the people who hurt it, the heart still remembers its suffering. Maybe after we’ve expelled all the junk from the vital and the mind, the bad forces take the heart as their last refuge. Maybe the heart gives shelter to things like insecurity, frustration and impurity out of a misplaced sense of compassion. We need to aspire very intensely to illumine the heart.

I guess there is no question about the meaning of my dream. Preparation and race. I know what I have to do. I just have to do it. To bridge the distance between knowing and doing is the race.

I guess I’m drawn to the concept of “soulfulness”. Our Teacher, Sri Chinmoy writes on page 38 of “Union and Oneness”:

“Live in the heart. All the soulful qualities, capacities, realities of the ever-lasting, ever-illumining Real will beckon you, will claim you as their own, very own.”

He also said these very illumining words on the anniversary of his epic lecture series, “Everest-Aspiration”:

“Anything that is prayerful and soulful is for every day’s use, for prayer and soulfulness should be sleeplessly constant, both in our inner life of aspiration and in our outer life of dedication.”

I guess soulfulness is what will help me to run the race. To remember Robert Frost, I definitely have “miles to go before I sleep.”

–Mahiruha

The brain and the heart

 

A few days ago, a young woman came through my line (I am a cashier), and somehow in the course of our interaction I told her that I recite and memorize poetry, especially that written by my teacher, Sri Chinmoy.  I told her that I could recite poems on the topic of her choosing.  She gave me four topics, and I recited a poem on each topic:

Faith:

The Ocean:

Patience:

Jesus Christ:

Then after I had recited these poems, she asked me a significant question.  She mused aloud, “Is it a poet’s brain or is it a poet’s heart that remembers this poetry?”

I told her that it is probably a poet’s heart, because I don’t “see” the poems, but rather my heart feels them, and my body knows them.  I articulate them with my mouth and heart, but the brain is not involved.

She said, “So it is the heart of a poet, not the mind.”

Symmetries of the Fall


Symmetries of the Fall

Life is mystery.

My death
Is on the horizon
Like a smile.

Who can decode rain?

There is no return
Postage on
Dreams.

I wandered in circuits
Of dust
For years
Before a scarecrow
In the Midwest
Autumn
Beckoned me
With a red flag.

I embraced it
Under the evening
Stars
And the yellow light.

And lo,
The “it”
Of the scarecrow
Became you
In my arms,
The way
A circle
Of feathers
Becomes
A cardinal
In my dreams.

You placed a geranium
In my hand,
And I forgot
My emptiness,
My history.

We drifted into
A stand of elms,
Dark and quiet,
Where
My questions
Took the form
Of songs
And the patience
In your eyes
Was the only
Answer.

–Mahiruha
10 June 2023