Savithri Sadhana 2

It is difficult to believe that I left Mysore, Karnataka, India and am back in Orlando, FL, USA. The trip was really been a personal journey; a true life-altering experience. India has a way of bringing up your deep dark stuff and shining the light on it; whether that is what you seek there or not.

Which brings me back to my sadhana, or spiritual practice, and the focus this trip on overcoming fear of death  that I talked about in my January 31 blog post: http://kalidasheart.blogspot.com/2012/01/savithri-sadhana.html. It is my belief that all fear is really a fear of death - whether that is physical death, death of old habits, or just change in general. This life is full of death, in that nothing ever stays the same. "This too, shall pass" is an apt philosophy, reminding us that nothing is permanent, so there is no benefit to lamenting change. 

It is only natural to have fear; the issue most of us have is that we aren't even aware how often we buy into our fears. My fears often center around being afraid of being a bad mother and can be silly at times: It is the voice in my head that says, "you told Emerson that ducks go "quack" and now here he is, at the lake, and the ducks are making a noise that sounds more like "rahk, rahk" so... now he will either turn out resentful to you  for lying to him... orrrr... stupid."

There are more serious fears too: fears for his safety - like when he was one of four passengers on a motor scooter - something very common in India.

Fears aren't necessarily negative thing, if you simply watch them arise, take action if necessary, and then let them pass.

The unhealthy, self-limiting fears are the ones we play and over again in our minds and which keep us from fully realizing all the gifts we are bestowed with from birth. These gifts are apparent when we act from out true self; our soul center. These gifts can be hidden due to our fears, which manifest as the voices in our heads which tell us something can't be done, that we don't deserve a certain thing, that we should have done something differently, etc.

Overcoming those fears sounds simple enough, but how do we really do it? I don't think sheer force is the way, though will power and determination are helpful. It is the determination to see the truth, to fully realize there is divinity around us all the time. If we are always feeling and seeing divinity in every person, every animal, every rock, every tree, every man-made object, every word, and every thought, then how can there be any fear of anything?  We start to realize that even though death and change are inevitable, there is an immutable, immortal, unchanging essence at the heart of every form. That essence cannot die or change, so what is the point of fear? Some pain is inevitable in this life on earth, but suffering is not. Suffering comes when we believe the fearful voices in our heads, rather than seeing through to the divine essence in everything.

India makes it easier to connect with that essence, because it is a culture of belief in the divine. Everyone believes regardless of caste or place in life. In America, I'd say at least half of us are alienated because of the failings of organized religion. It makes it more difficult to see the divine every day when you are surrounded by disbelief. It is still possible, and necessary if we are to transcend all the different problems we are creating for life on earth. As more and more people start to bring that divine essence into their every day lives, everyone will naturally begin to shed self-limiting beliefs and rise above.

I brought some of India back with me to America to help the cause.

Om Shanti, everyone. ;)

Learning to trust

I find it fascinating that there are very few road signs and traffic signals here in Mysore, Karnataka, India. I was here for 3 weeks before I spotted my first one, this very old-looking sign near a school that I think is a warning to watch for children:

It simply says, "courtesy" which I also find fascinating. My friend Maureen is also here in Mysore, studying yoga, and she told me that there are places in Europe that have removed all traffic signals and found that people drive much more cautiously, resulting in a large decrease in traffic accidents.

It seems we are sometimes complacent in America, blindly following the traffic signals without actually being present while we are driving. We put too much faith in external regulators, rather than learning to trust our innate instincts with alertness. We do this literally with traffic signals, but also on a more subtle level in all aspects of our life. Rather than being present where we are and letting our reactions flow spontaneously from the situation, we become uncomfortable when circumstances don't meet our expectations, and we get anxious and take things personally. If we could simply learn to go with the flow and let our first reaction to any outside circumstance be surrender, I believe we would be much happier.

Surrender takes trust - it means letting go of control and believing that a higher, more intelligent power is actually in control of our lives.  It is easy to practice surrender, for example, when a baby grows in its mother's womb. The mother doesn't need to concentrate on growing the baby; it happens naturally. Our whole life can unfold in that way if we would just get out of the way and stop trying to control every thing that happens by judging it as good or bad.

My thoughts for the day as our trip winds to a close next week. Still more to come...

Om Shanti, everyone.

Thank you, India

I decided to take Emerson for a walk up to the park a couple days ago.  All the roads are pretty much laid out in grid formation here, although there is some deviation.  And I understand the general direction of the park, so I set out a slightly different way than usual and walked in that direction.  Then, I heard the ego voice in my head say, “You shouldn’t have gone this way.  This is the wrong way.  You don’t know where you’re going.  You’re not going to be able to find the park.”  


Then as I was walking up this different way, I saw that there was a Hindu temple that I hadn’t seen before. And then I remembered something from Byron Katie’s book, "Loving What Is," where she teaches to say, “no mistake” in response to any perceived negative life situation.  And she writes that  yogis used to come to her after she had her awakening, and they’d all be saying, “Namaste, Namaste.” She didn’t know what it meant, so she thought they were saying, “No mistake.”  And she teaches that there are no mistakes.  


So I heard her voice, when I saw the Hindu temple, and it said to me, “No mistake.” Then I noticed there was this beautiful depiction of an elephant:

Emerson pointed at it and said, “Ale-font.”  And I thought, "there are no mistakes." Then I looked to my left, and there was the park we were trying to find.  


It’s hard when that voice in my head teases me with, “You should have done it the other way.”  When I believe that thought, I create those realities. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.  I’m learning to notice those thoughts more and more and India’s helping.  As Alanis Morrisette says, “Thank you, India."  


Om shanti, everyone.

padma sadhana

Kali, why does jealousy remain my king?

Leagues of distance, yet no less it stings.

Teach me, instead, abundant Love -

And, Kali, let me rise above -

so that I long not after a specific flower;

Rather seeking solely your Love’s ceaseless shower.

Savithri Sadhana

So I mentioned there’s a sign on the outside of our gate that says, “Savithri Sadhana:"

I was familiar with the term Sadhana which is basically dedicated spiritual practice in pursuit of realization or spiritual goal.  I couldn’t place where I’d heard Savithri before.  Then I remembered I had heard a story about Savithri and her husband, Satyavan, in Deepak Chopra’s book, “Life After Death.” It’s an old Indian mythology-type story and there are several different versions of it.  But ultimately, in the story, Savithri is tasked with overcoming death in order to save her husband, who is doomed to be taken by death that very day.  Death comes in the form of a being named Yama.  And in the version I most like, Savithri overcomes death through love.  Essentially, she falls in love with Yama and thereby convinces Yama to give her one more second  on earth; because one more second to Yama is 100 years of human time. Thus, Satyavan is spared his impending death, and goes on to live a complete life.

And at first Savithri is sort of faking it; she doesn’t really love Yama. She pretends to love him in order to save Satyavan. But after the extra 100 years on earth, during which time she outlives her husband by many, many years, she becomes meditative and reaches enlightenment. At the end of her life, she realizes that she does love Yama (death), and comes to be eternally grateful to him.

So I’m grateful that on this trip that Savithri’s energy is on the outside of my door.  I’m hopeful that through my dedicated practice, my Sadhana,  that I, too, will become grateful and love Yama - love the impermanence of all forms, love change, and ultimately, love death.

And in so loving, become totally fearless.

I’ll let you all know how it goes.

Om Shanti, everyone.

And yes, there are cows everywhere

It has been one week since arriving in Mysore, Karnataka, India with Emerson. We've hardly taken a moment so far to catch our breath. We are staying in Mysore with my dear friend Krista, who has been here eight times before, and her son Kaiden, who is the same age as Emerson.

India is an amazing place; both divine and diabolical. At the corner before turning onto the road we live on, there is some graffiti:

It reminds me everyday that we must go into the shadow in order to find the light. We must look at those dark places in ourselves in order to become who we are.

In India, there is defnitely a dark side: everyone is looking to make a buck off foreigners and they will take advantage of you where they can. We battle everyday with the rikshaw drivers over fare. If they know you are stuck, like yesterday at the pool when we really had no other options, they will gouge you. We also have to watch our housekeeper clean or she won't do it. She is actually quite amusing, almost like a character out of a sitcom.

At the same time, this place just sparkles with divinity. You see it in the food, which exudes love (we often eat in people's homes and pay for the food - like a restaurant but not a restaurant), and you see it in the people walking down the street who fawn over Emerson and Kaiden. They adore babies here. Even the other children and ornery old men will stop and pinch their cheeks.

People don't take things personally here. They ask for what they want and they don't get offended when you say no. They expect the same from you. I think it is hard for Americans, because we aren't used to asking for what we want, and we are very uncomfortable saying no.

That is my sadhana: to explore those places of discomfort until the old boundaries loosen their grip; to continue to apply the practice of surrender to every form that arises - to every uncomfortable situation, encounter, thought.

Sadhana is a disciplined practice in pursuit of a spiritual goal. The word "sadhana" is written on the outside of the gate where we live, which reminds me everyday that everything is part of the practice, even those things that my mind tries to convince me aren't part of the practice.

And the practice comes easier here, because it is such a different place. On one of our first days in Mysore, we came across this scene in the middle of the city:

It is a cow, a dog, and a pig, sharing a pile of garbage. All are stray animals. I was so excited by what I saw that I asked Krista to borrow her camera and said to her, "it's not like everyday you see a cow, a pig, and a dog sharing a pile of garbage." She responded with a grin, "it's not that uncommon in India."

There are a lot of things that aren't that uncommon in India; and I think that helps to sharpen my sadhana, because I am well out of my comfort zone.

More thoughts to come. Om shanti everyone.

Frozen dagger of Time

Kali,
Frozen dagger of Time:
Take my words away.
They've proven useless in conveying my heart's desire,
which is beyond words,
beyond time.
Yet my words keep bubbling up,
Begging to be spoken.
Attempting without fruit to sway my Love toward the light,
before falling to the earth,
impotent.
Utterly inadequate to describe desire's depth.
You offer solace in desire's assured fulfillment;
Yet you shield from view the complete picture of your perfectly-woven tapestry,
unwilling to extol in advance the hour desire's bell will toll.
The sharp pain of longing slices my heart,
reveals my humanity,
A blessing and a curse:
your frozen dagger of Time.