Surrender

Heart at once hollow yet heavy and full. Beating and bleeding and burning for You.

Who is this “You” and who is this “me”? Is this heart even mine? As mine as it can be.

I would if I could, just let go, just let be. Stop the doing, stop the feeling and sit with just me.

If me is You and One are We, beyond the pain of separation, Truth is set free.

So I set my intention and You set your sails, gliding so effortlessly while my anchor trails.

Trying to lighten the load, I release. Yet the weight pulls me down again and there goes the peace.

Yours is the lightness and mine is the dark. Ah, but We are One. Reminder is a spark.

Sparking the memory of the time beyond time, absent the notion of a yours and a mine.

All that exists is Truth Absolute, Knowledge Absolute, Bliss Absolute. Sat Chit Ananda. Ain’t that the Truth?

So I’ve been told and so I believe, and so I keep seeking, Your billowing sails out at sea.

The sea of compassion, of mystery, of grace. Sea of abiding love and wholeness I taste.

I taste You in my blood, my tears, my nectar honey twist. Your ocean is in me so I know You exist.

What I know with my body can’t always be known with my mind. I turn my senses inward to feel what I find.

In this body live the Lover, the Beloved and the Love. I taste color, feel music and hear the wing of the dove.

Nothing makes sense in here and yet sense is all there is. You open me for receiving and I give and give and give.

Offering my yearning, the depth of my desire. Offering my devotion, my emotion, my fire.

Offering what is big in me and also what is small. Offering and offering in hopes You’ll take it all.

Take me, have me, do with me what You will. Please just use me, use me up, have Your fill.

Fill Yourself with me so that I am wholly in You. Only then will there be an end to loneliness and a resting in what is True.

Bear witness

There are certain aspects of coming to India that I may not love, yet have come to expect and even understand. Not only do oceans and continents divide India from my North American homeland, but culture, customs, and in many places I visit, modern conveniences as well. To give you an idea, any trip here is bound to include:

•      Bathing from a bucket rather than a shower
•      Cows competing with you in traffic
•      Blaring horns announcing every passing vehicle, JUST IN CASE they didn’t already see you with your high beams on
•      Peeing on your shoes (or your bare feet) because let’s face it: we western women aren’t necessarily masters of squat toilet etiquette
•      Consuming obscene amounts of carbs
•      Practically nothing happening on schedule

While none of these is pleasant from my privileged, first world perspective, none of these is intolerable either. We humans are marvelously malleable creatures, and you’d be amazed what you can adapt to. It saddens me to say I’ve even grown accustomed to the frequent sight of malnourished beings, two- and four-legged, all around me, and Mother Earth herself being horribly mistreated.

Yet none of what I’ve seen in my time in India prepared me for what I witnessed yesterday. The truth is, had I seen this anywhere in the world, I’d have been just as stunned and stricken. And the even sadder truth is that this actually does happen just about everywhere in the world, as much as I’d like to believe otherwise.

Yesterday I saw a man beat his wife.

On a street corner.

With several men standing around watching.

Doing nothing.

Just like me.

I was in an auto rickshaw, a very popular method of transportation here that is basically a 3-wheeled scooter with a roof and bench seats. The sides are completely open and you get the experience of being at one with all that is whizzing past you as you travel. For some reason I wasn’t sure of, our driver had paused to stop right as this scene was taking place, and so I had a front row seat to one of the most tragic things I’ve ever born witness to with my own eyes.

She was sitting and he was somehow simultaneously shoving her and pulling her up to standing. At first I wasn’t entirely certain I was witnessing an act of abuse. There was a moment when it looked like he could have even been helping her up, albeit roughly. The irony there is, from what I understand of the mentality that so many battered women have, especially those who are impoverished and living in a country where many women are still effectively the property of their men, they actually do feel that way. They feel their abusive husbands are actually doing them some sort of service, or at least that they have the right to treat them in these ways.

So he got her up, and then any doubt I had as to what I was watching was laid to rest as he raised his hand and laid it across her face.

On a street corner.

With several men standing around watching.

Doing nothing.

Just like me.

His face was twisted with bitterness and rage. Hers with dejection and disgust. Mine was frozen.

In fact, I don’t think I have ever felt so frozen in my life. Even as I sat wedged between two friends in a now-moving vehicle, there was an impulse to jump out and grab her away, whisking her to safety. But I didn’t. I couldn’t move an inch. The instinct for self-preservation was stronger than the instinct to help. As sad as I was to watch this scene play out, I was even sadder to accept that realization.

I began to thaw quickly. Silently prayers of protection and liberation on her behalf rang through my head has tears spilled down my cheeks. Still my body felt numb, the weight of the experience cementing me to my seat, holding me prisoner just like she must feel. I hurt for her. I hurt for me. I hurt for every woman everywhere who has ever felt anything short of the sublimely sovereign, empowered, perfect goddess that she is, which is basically the same as saying I hurt for every single woman on earth.

I know of none among us who haven’t, at one point or another in some way or another, felt beat down and unworthy. I’ve certainly been there, and yet no man has ever raised a hand to me, and I feel confident in saying no man ever will. To witness a sister in that position was unspeakably painful. And to quickly assimilate the realization that this is happening far more than I’m aware of just amplified that in spades, sharpening the edge of the sad truth that I had done nothing to stop it.

It happens that this whole experience took place right as I am spending time at a place called Devipuram, where empowerment is literally the mission statement, and revering the feminine principle is engrained in the path. Using the guidance of the ancient, sacred wisdom of Sri Vidya, auspicious knowledge associated with the Shakta, or goddess-worshipping path of Hinduism, Devipuram is a rare and special place where anyone from any walk of life is welcome to learn tools of empowerment. By way of spiritual teachings and social outreach, Devipuram gives men and women alike the opportunity to realize our divine potential and tap into this limitless power within ourselves, as well as share it with others.

So the scene playing out before me came in stark contrast to the environment I’ve been in, the environment I’m in more often than not. I’m a woman who adores women, who feels a deep sense of duty around supporting my sisters, and who is fortunate to keep company with men who extend the same reverence to us as we do ourselves. I’d just seen the shadow side of the light I live in, and that contrast is actually a precious gift.

Reflecting on the contrast of these two extremes, I got the strong and clear message that while I may have felt impotent in the moment, I am anything but. I am empowered with all the grace, compassion and purpose of Devi herself. And I have the added benefit of having realized this, on some level at least. So if one, or many, of my sisters has not yet realized this for herself, I have the power to help her. I have the power to extend a hand in place of the one that has been raised, and lead her toward the light. I may not have acted in the moment the way I'd like to think I would have, but I can act in other ways that empower going forward. 

I don’t yet know exactly how this will transform my path. I don’t yet know exactly how I will take this call to action and turn it into an offering to help women like the sister I bore witness to ascend from the shadow they’re caught in. What I know is there are no coincidences, and painful as this was, it was necessary. This is something I needed to see and feel so that I can tap into even greater grace, compassion and purpose for the greater good.

If I may make a request, please join me in a moment of prayer. Call it reflection or meditation or silence if you prefer. Just join me please, right now, by closing your eyes, gazing into your heart and emanating a vibration of love and safety to all beings everywhere who are caught in the shadow. Join me in intending that there will soon come a day when all women (men, children and animals too!) will be seen and treated as the divine beings they truly are and live lives free from violence and full of peace.

Thank you.

Namaste.

Om Sri Matrye Namah.

Back with my Beloved

I am here, again, back in India, experiencing the madness and the magic that is her trademark. She is a land of extremes, a land of oxymorons and sometimes-strange juxtapositions, of opulence alongside filth, aloneness felt among a throng of people, a sense of going slowly amidst constant chaos. She is a land I love, and like all love, it changes over time.

Returning to her for my third visit, we meet with the awkward familiarity of lovers who’ve been apart for a while. She knows how to receive me now, and I her, yet there’s an adjustment period, feeling each other out slowly even as we embrace fervently. I dive into her, hungry for the taste of her signature sweetness, then pull back, quickly intoxicated and unsteady from the drunkenness. In sleep it takes me time to adjust to her, crashing from the sheer exhaustion of all it took to reach her and the daylight hours spent taking her in voraciously only to awaken frequently in the night as if I were newly sharing my bed again.

So it was this time around, different than the times before. It took me pretty much all of my first five days in Mumbai to begin to feel like myself with her. It actually took me leaving Mumbai to head for higher elevations, cleaner air and clearer skies, a true Indian hill station retreat, for me to wake up feeling properly grounded and truly present for my beloved.

Like all women who know their worth, she demands I be fully present for her. Only then will she open to me and really let me in.

And she has. She opened to me and bid me welcome into a realm that feels quite like heaven on earth.

I write this from Govardhan Ecovillage, a most inspiring and precious sanctuary of devotion to Mother Bhumi, Mother Earth. After hearing of the incredible work being done here thanks to the wise and loving vision of Radhanath Swami, a much-adored leader of the ISKCON community, I knew I had to come and see it myself. This year has been largely marked by my initiation into permaculture, living in community and a profound deepening of my spiritual path. While I am not a devotee of this lineage, I have been fortunate to spend many a memorable moment in the sweet company of members of the Hare Krishna community, so being among them here is easy and comfortable for me. Being with my beloved Bhumi is effortless ecstasy. It is here that I can finally be fully present to India. It is here that I feel I can simply be.

I realized while in Mumbai that despite genuinely appreciating and enjoying the sights I visited, the temples I prayed in and the encounters I had, I wasn’t fully there. I’ve gotten very easily adjusted living in close proximity to nature in my new home in the redwoods and hilly terrain of northern California. Being in such a metropolitan environment, even one surrounded by the sea like Mumbai, forces me to close off parts of myself without my even realizing it. That partial shutdown doesn’t allow me to be totally available to anything or anyone. I need nature, Bhumi, my true love, to feel whole. That’s quite a revelation for a girl who has lived her entire life in a city.

Driving to GEV, even as I fought back carsickness bouncing along roads in desperate need of repair that are typical of rural India, I felt a sense of calm coming over my body and mind. The embrace of the Sahyadri Mountains surrounding me, the lush green from so many trees, the brilliance of blue in the midday sky and the sounds of birds singing sweetly were all balm to my soul. I’d glimpsed that feeling in moments in the days prior – exploring the stunning caves and carvings of Shiva on Elephanta Island and meditating in solitude in the breathtaking Vipassanna Global Pagoda – but they were fleeting, and the knowledge that I would settle here for a few days put me at ease.

There’s a sensitivity to my system that I didn’t feel during my prior encounters with this great love of mine. She’s been working on me even while I was away, furthering my initiation to her wondrous ways, casting her spell. She’s making me more discerning and challenging me to uphold her highest standards in situations that are at times tricky to navigate. Again, it is her demand of my full presence, and she is testing me to ensure my worthiness.

Yet I clearly understand that I am not proving my worth to her. No.  She already knows me better than I know myself. And so these tests are for me. All of this is so I come to know my own worth, my own truth and to understand not only what I’m made of but also what I’m made for. This whole love affair is an elaborate teaching, and I, the eager student, bow humbly at my guru’s feet.

I feel full of adoration and awe, full of excitement to be back with her, my teacher, my lover, my mother, my India. This leg of the journey has only just begun, and yet I know it will be the most powerful and potent one yet. I am in deeper communion with her than ever before, intent on opening fully as a channel for Her grace to flow through- that is why I came. So the “why” is clear. The “what” is the mystery set to unfold as I travel on.

From Nowhere to Now Here

My fisted hands are now open palms. It's been years of prying this grasp loose, and finally it has happened. It hurts deeply, the stiffness and aching from so much pressure. I let go. I cultivate trust. I believe in Love. The pain will subside. This I know is True.

Shakti is awakening. It's time.

I wrote these words the other day sitting in a space beyond our common constructs of place and time. I wrote them from Now Here, which has no understanding of past or future for this space is Infinite, always was and always will be. This space exists in my heart and is made of my Soul. This is the space of Truth.

After so much energy invested in "soul searching" for so long, I recently found myself face to face with what I had been searching for, even if it didn’t look exactly as I’d imagined. My Soul longed for freedom of movement, travel and exploring new places to call home. I’ve now taken up residence in my third time zone in as many months and feel strongly called toward planting myself here for a while. My Soul longed for creative expression. I’ve made the bold move of redefining my work life to devote more of myself to pursuits and offerings that nurture my Shakti flow, my creative essence. My Soul longed for an enlightened partnership. I’ve had the privilege of loving and being loved by someone so conscious that together we started and ended our relationship in sacred Tantric ritual, and uphold our commitment to the others’ evolution and well being as much as our own whether we’re together or apart.

Home. Job. Relationship. Picture a three-legged stool, with each of these holding up the seat, and the seat is Sense of Self. Most of us define ourselves by these external factors and they uphold the image we project outwardly as well as identify with inwardly. I just chopped the legs off my stool inside the span of a few short months, and now all I’m left to sit in is the seat of Self. I’m left with the chance to feel into Who I AM. And by the Grace of Goddess, I know all I AM left with is absolutely enough.

When I wrote those words the other day, I had just finished enjoying some much needed rest and rejuvenation at the Sivananda ashram in Grass Valley, CA, consoling my weary heart and clearing my cluttered mind after a lot of upheaval in the weeks, really months, prior. I needed the solace of nature and the spiritual community that has held me for so many years. I communed in sweet silence with Ganesha, Krsna, Siva and Durga. I chanted their Holy names with all the love and devotion in my heart. I poured out pages and pages of thoughts, feelings and revelations into my journal and ultimately in messages to the Beloved who was not mine to have anymore for we had come to a crossroads and chose different paths.

I began to glimpse the sense of clarity I'd yearned for, yet the Truth of that precise moment before those words came was things weren’t clear at all. That I had no idea of where to call home, how I would earn a living and whether or not a loving, intimate partnership made to go the distance was in my destiny had me in a state of flux. I had been working hard to establish myself in the space of Now Here, and it seemed I was making real progress until I heard my former Beloved’s voice on the line and felt the surge of hazy emotion threaten to overtake me, dragging me down to Nowhere.

Nowhere is most certainly not where I choose to be. I choose to be Now Here.

So I entered Now Here’s glorious gates. I was sitting outside the home of a Soul sister and mentor who I had been called to connect with, and who, by the Grace of Goddess, had heard the call too and answered it. In preparation for this auspicious meeting I channeled the flow of Shakti in me, moving Her abundant goodness through me with my breath, feeling every cell of my being soften as the vibration of Om came forth. Healing comes from the heart. Healing comes from within.

In the span of time we spent together, this sister of my Soul helped bring me to the undeniable recognition that I had landed exactly where I asked to be all along. I had brought my Self to this space of Now Here, and from it I could time travel into my “future” at will, feel into and see what it looks like to be living the life my Soul is truly meant for. I had a visceral experience with the relativity of time, understanding it as the arbitrary construct it is. There was nothing more to search for. It is all Now Here. 

Many nuances of the path I tread are still unknown to me. Many alternative routes exist for my choosing. Many chances to relearn and relive this sort of experience are likely to present themselves as I continue forward, occasionally crossing the line back into familiar Nowhere, only so I may continue strengthening my commitment to being Now Here. I accept and embrace all of this for I know the hardest part is over. I let go of my iron grip and opened myself to receive the Grace I was born for. Shakti is awake and alive in me. Now is her time. Here is her place. I AM ready, come what may.