On Time

Time is an arbitrary thing. It really doesn’t exist anywhere but in the constructs of our mind, this space that is actually limitless were it not for the self-imposed limitations we allow to constrain us. Symptom of the human condition. So it goes.

Another symptom . . . sentimentality. Looking back fondly. Holding on dearly. Marking the passage of time in specific increments, with birthdays, anniversaries, “a year ago I was . . .”

A year ago I was in a lot of pain while supposedly in the midst of one of the most pleasurable chapters of my life. I’d set off into unchartered territory, both inner and outer, and it was working me. A year ago I was resenting the hell out of my home for the moment and my partner at the time, for not moving in accordance with how I felt time should flow. I was counting the days until I would leave that place while simultaneously imagining into the possibility of forever with my oft-estranged beloved.  Hypocrisy, irony, contradiction. Even more symptoms of the human condition.

Time has since passed. I sorted out the blaring contradiction in my life – saying one thing and doing another – by taking my biggest leap of faith ever and starting to live the life I’d been talking about for so long. I dealt in part with sentimentality by letting go [somewhat] gracefully of that which I’d held so dear. I still look back fondly, and I hope I always will, knowing that every experience then brought me to where I am now and paved the path leading to where I shall be tomorrow. And the perspective of birthdays, anniversaries and “a year ago I was” still signify an important barometer for me, allowing me to track growth and progress or lack thereof, yet another very human condition I like to do.

So here are the pertinent “measurements” I’m tracking of this past year:

•        I let go of one partner and opened up to so very many friendships, intimate connections and lovers who’ve enriched me in infinite ways
•        I said goodbye to a job and said hello to my calling, exploring entrepreneurship and creative collaboration and heart-centered offerings
•         I parted ways with a house and allowed the concept of home to take shape for me in spaces and places across state lines and hemispheres
•          I surrendered my notion of how things should be and allowed myself to receive what simply is
•      I cut ties with resentment and wholly embraced an attitude of gratitude for even the most painful or perplexing circumstances and characters in my life

I’m tracking all of this as progress for a year gone by, when in fact the truth is this is lifetimes of work and deep remembering becoming manifest. There goes that arbitrary nature of time. We can make of it what we will.

So what will you make of it? What will I make of it? I’m leaning into a more spacious, patient and compassionate relationship with time. I’m in the inquiry of what’s it like to slow down, to suspend the agenda, to move at the speed of love.  It’s love that has been working me this past year. It’s love that is my constant teacher, my motivation, my guiding light. It’s love that I feel for all the circumstances and characters in my story. It’s love that I know myself to truly be.

Love is unbound by time. For love, time simply does not exist. Love is endlessly patient and immediately accessible. It can hurry the hell up and it can slow down and wait. My commitment and my suggestion – take a note from love and let time fall away.

The Guest As God

The guest as God[ess]

So goes the credo in India, and I have to say that for whatever harshness or inconvenience traveling to the great Mother may invariably include, this is always a sweetly welcomed constant. Without fail, wherever I have roamed on this subcontinent, when I get where I’m going and many times along the way there too, I have been received with such warmth in the welcoming and sincerity in the attending that it manages to soften the edges and melt the daggers of even the craziest episodes.

I live much of my life in the world of guest as interruption, guest as intrusion, guest as yet another item on the overflowing to-do list that has to be checked off. In that world not speaking the language will get you glared at as incompetent. There you don’t often show up unannounced on someone’s doorstep or go out of your way to accompany someone on an errand run that more closely resembles a wild goose chase. You tend to yourself and expect that by and large others are doing the same. Independence and self-sufficiency are the credo. Most of the time in most circles anyway.

Not so here. As I sit writing, Vishnu, a nineteen-year-old attendant at the lush, idyllic Ayurvedic retreat I’m visiting, is waiting me on. He’s walking up the tree-lined path with an adorably bright smile on his mustached little face, carrying fresh coconuts for me to drink. Yes, that’s his job. But he does his job with such a sweetness and genuine appreciation for being of service that it lights a smile in me each and every time I see him. And I see him a lot! He manages to be everywhere, all the time, always available to any need or whim that may arise in each and every guest here. He takes his responsibility seriously, but not himself. He’s gracious and humble and seems so much older than his not quite two times ten turns around the sun.

And it isn’t just Vishnu. It’s Saraswati, Jendi, Asmin, Karnan, Kiran, Kanakaraj, Laksmi, Rao, Srinivas, and so many other aunties, uncles, guides, hosts, drivers, attendants and random angels encountered on trains, buses and sidewalks who live this credo of treating the guest as God. The very villagers who scrub the floors and prepare the meals at your guest house consider themselves honored and are so wholly delighted to have you pop into their home without warning, quickly offering up a plate of some tasty snack and introducing every member of their extended family to you, whether in-person or by photo. And never mind a language barrier.  Smiles, laughter, hand gestures and a couple of key words are more than enough to feel the depth of emotion and grasp the gist of what’s being transmitted.

I’ve had strangers escort me through train stations to ensure I made it to the right platform. The same guy who had the grace to look away and leave me in silence while I vomited in our shared bunk on an overnight bus come morning was making certain I knew what stop to get off to make my way to my destination. Many others want a photo memory of me and taking them at their word, some of those photos now appear in frames and on altar spaces in more than one India home. I can’t begin to understand why that is, but we’ll leave that for another blog!

With this one what I hope to convey is the beauty that I encounter daily among the people here, and what it evokes in me. It raises ruminations on independence versus interdependence, what community truly means to me, the way in which I choose to receive and engage with the people around me. To integrate this credo of treating all of those around me as gods and goddesses, not just because it sounds quaint but because I truly recognize the divinity in each and every being is an ideal I wholly aspire to.

Being here also shows me how I still have so far to go. There are many miles yet to walk before my external eyes are able to truly glimpse that divine light shining in all beings. There are miles left to go in shedding my amazingly stubborn conditioning that taught me doing for myself was the best, and often expected, way to get things done. India is a phenomenal equalizer for that one! I simply cannot do everything by myself here. Moreover, I cannot do most things by myself here. I get to be a child again in so many ways, allowing myself to be led, taught, cared for, fed, even bathed and dressed in certain instances! It’s humbling and it’s also heart opening.

As my heart opens to receive these gracious offerings, my mind opens as well. It fills with colorful visions of interdependence as the pervading norm in all corners of the globe. But the globe is big and often I feel small. So I start small. I set intentions. Let my smile be so big and sincere as to brighten another’s day. Let me be the one to patiently and kindly offer directions to someone who is lost, literally or figuratively. Let me be fortunate enough to receive a knock at my door from an unexpected guest and welcome them with a tea or a treat or simply a moment of my uninterrupted, truly focused time. Let me feel gratitude and devotion for the work I am blessed to do, no matter how menial or exalted the task.

It isn’t that these intentions are new to me. It isn’t that all of India, or all Indians, are sunshine and rainbows while the U.S. is absent of any redeeming qualities or utterly amazing people. It’s not that black and white. And all of this is just my story anyway. So if it’s my story, let me tell it with authenticity. A big part of why I travel, and why I keep coming back to India even with so much of the world awaiting me, is because I feel authentic here and I am reminded of the story that is closest to my heart. When I am here, I remember. I remember who I am and what I know to be true.  I remember why I have chosen this path and how it is guiding me toward living these intentions more and more with each step I take. I remember that I am not the only one who feels small sometimes, and that compassion is SO needed, just as needed as the reminder that great things come in small packages and can have a HUGE impact!

I hope you’ll remember with me, and I hope you’ll tell your own story with authenticity.

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.