On my way down that delightful road I drive by, a thought that came to me - when I fell in love with the one who is now my husband,  I remember seeing him everywhere. I would see him disappearing into a bus, or the dining hall, or in that group of friends laughing outside the classroom, and also in the ones walking towards me.

I thought I was going crazy. I was of course! There is no more delightful craziness as love, and no easier way for divine forces to ease us into a relationship that we are meant to have.

I also thought I was being non-discerning. He was so unique; how did I feel that he was like everyone else? It was only later that I realized - when love comes to us, the beloved is within all that we see. Even more, we can see nothing else. He infuses evey pore of our very being. Love is the greatest gift of God.

When the One we love is the very oneness, that is all that we can see.

Whenever I see the beauty of a sunrise, these words of Kabirdas come to my mind:
Laali mere laal ki, jin dekhon tith laal.
Laali dekhan mai gayi, mai bhi go gayi laal.

The essence of my beloved is everwhere
When I went to look for that essence, I too became red with it.

[with apologies for my translation]

The word 'laal' has so many meanings and connotations [red, beloved child, beloved, essence]; and Kabirdas wrote in the simplest of languages, showing the most profound truths.

I rushed to post this in the  Meeting Love group

"when you walk, the feet move on the ground, not the hair, yet the hair will go where the feet  do. the legs and hips are powering the feet, yet they never touch the ground while walking. the eyes move around, helping the brain to navigate, yet their connection at that moment with mother earth seems tenuous at best."

-excerpt from a book being written, Chasing Gaia, by GenieInABottle

Thoughts?

Many years ago, when I was in the 8th standard [sort-of like 8th grade in the US], I moved to a new school. I was seated at the last row of the class. One of the teachers asked me a question . "I can write  but I can't say it," I mumbled, mortified at all those eyes looking back at me.

No one who knows me today can believe how painfully shy I was, how lacking in confidence, quick to withdraw into my shell. That shell is still my home, but not one to withdraw into - it's one that helps me to be 'at home' and at ease wherever I may be, but also, not only where I am physically.

Now of course, I can say it and write it - and it was never more evident than this past month. Back in October at   DIVING DEEPER: A Writing Workshop  we were reminded that NaNoWriMo was approaching - the National Novel Writing Month [Don't you believe it. It's not National…it's INTERnational!]. Basically it's a movement to write madly for one month in November each year —just write and write and write up to 50000 words and then in December and later, edit and fashion it into a novel. Quantity, they say - not quality. Now here's the first challenge: here I am, always trying : Can you say it in one sentence?  Rarely have problems finding words to speak or write, carving spaces with black upon white, but that many in this time? It would be a rush against time.

This month, I have my beloved parents visiting from India.  This was certainly not the time to take on more commitments! Then one morning, at the edge of sleep, Blip came. He was rushing through cyberspace, looking for reasons to show [how?] humans that their life on planet Earth had NOT destroyed it. One thing that he did, was to get me out of bed as qigong had done once, Suddenly seeing all the directions this was taking the novel, I also mentioned it to our beloved Eli  who was leaving online communicating.

Signing on to NaNoWriMo, there was another surprise - suddenly, GenieInABottle appeared! Never a name I had used or even thought of.  And as it wrote, all the story lines  remembered in childhood dissolved into the story, new characters appeared, showing me that the story was moving from Sci-Fi to ....mainstream fiction, perhaps. I shared some excerpts at Diving Deeper, seeking help with determining the genre. Labeling as genre - an interesting twist to what I'd once written here about labelling.

How liberating was writing - just me and that novel. 'Just me ' expands into all that was happening - time carved out of Gaia activities; co-moderators taking any slack my distraction caused, without complaint; still managing to cook and clean and even participate in meditation and teaching sessions at my daughter's school as volunteer mom.  The family adapting at seeing their mom and wife and daughter enthusiasticaly typing at various times, gently supportive. The look-in whenever possible to the NaNoWriMo room at DD for ideas, suggestions, support given and received.

As I wrote, watching that NaNo Stats graph go up, stay static or inch its way onward, I knew that it would just take place. Somehow, those words that swirled around me, sensed that it was their time to emerge. The initiations, meditations, healing and connection work that I had done, helped everything to morph into each other, time to expand, visions to unfurl, apprehensions to be allayed, guilt to be removed.

The wrists ached but once; I felt overwhelmed once, with home and office and writing. All grist for the mill!


For a while, I stopped posting about the Gaia Minute, but as friends from different parts of the world helped me to translate its message, and the Gaia Minute Calls continued, with the daily practice of connecting to Gaia as she is, and the satsang that is Gaia Community, Chasing Humans morphed into Chasing Gaia. 


Writing this novel has been a deeply connecting experience. The words and spaces fitting in neatly as that yin-yang that lies at the base of the story. I had once wanted to write about the mapping of the yin-yang: those regions of light and dark. This theme subsumes the stories.

Thank you to all who have helped in this story getting written. It has been you, and him and her and it and them.

When I was a child [hmmm…a story's coming through now!] I used to love writing. One of my earliest memories ...hmmm, better read that one at There's a Novel in there Somewhere- NaNoWriMo

What now?...Now to continue those stories that are still to play out, edit and organize and then give it all another look. Stay tuned! What are you writing?

How- from going to the International Headquarters at Adyar, of the Theosophical Society. There are places of worship from different religions; but what is really amazing, is that they are all inclusive and not exactly what you find elsewhere [I THINK!]

So- there are three shrines - the Bharat Samaj temple, with no deities  but a sense of space. It is the temple where my parents were married.

There is an 'All Saints Church' where my parents attended Midnight mass on the eve before their marriage on Christmas Day.

There is a Buddhist shrine where we played as children. I seem to remember an old bell there.

We were taught that there was truth in all religions and sciences, and that to seek it is the way to truth. That there is no religion higher than truth. I was perhaps five years old? Not sure really. All I know is, that we grew  up knowing there are many faiths; and even more, that we each have our own individual path to tread.

Even if it is at the point where the Adyar river meet the Indian Ocean for a sacred sunrise.

  This is a very special Nov. 26 for me:

It's Thanksgiving and :
My mother, who is in her 80s, is with me for the first time in over 25 years. I don't think I have ever been with her on her birthday, after I got married, and perhaps even before that when I was away, studying.

We're gave her a surprise birthday party this evening, as my sister had baked her a cake and mailed to us [the wonders of US post!]  and then there'll be celebrations of different sort tomorrow - whatever suits her, nothing huge, just small things that she will enjoy. She is frail of body but strong in spirit. Gentle and loving and strong.

The French Bakery is open, so perhaps we'll pick up some delicacies for breakfast.

Ma was born at a time when there were no birth certificates, and no birthday celebrations, I think. I didn't even think to ask my mother the year in which she was born - I think it would have seemed cheeky! 

Here are some blogs about my mother:
Mother's Day~ Ma's wit
Ma's witty wisdom for Mother's Day~ dedicated to Myanmar mothers
Human Rights Day is 60 years old: The News Today
Honoring Bharatanatyam in the International Day of Dance
Mother's Day - Friday Five
Sparrows and bees: Electronic Smog 'Is Disrupting Nature …
and from last year
Happy Birthday Ma!

You are all invited to this very special celebration, the blessing of Ma who has given wonderful meals to many people in her lifetime of cooking and keeping a home that was always open to all guests - anyone who dropped in or was invited stayed on for a meal!

 

 [cross-posted from the 50+stars* group:Ma's birthday-Nov 26]

Before the world began, the gods and demons fought for the nectar of priceless value.

It was amrit.


Churning the primeval ocean, they helped it to rise, and it and it was given to the gods by divine will.

As the ocean churns today, what are we seeking to uncover? What is the nectar that will emerge?

 

[Excerpted from Chasing Humans, a novel being uncovered during the churning of NaNoWriMo]

Who have I compassion for

Those who are weak or those who are strong
or both?

The weakness you express or the strength you display
or both?

Your sadness hiding your joy, or your joy that hides the sadness
or both?

For you, for me or for them?
or all?


Where there is compassion for all, is it possible to be just strong or just weak
or both?

When I express compassion, do I seek to strengthen the weak, weaken the strong
or both?
or neither, accepting as is?

I've been having physical health issues, and naturally they're related to re-balancing in all the other energy centers:  emotions, personal will, heart connection, communication, intuition and always, those connections in oneness at the indescribable dimensions.

I've come to realize it's not an issue of causation as it is an issue of awareness. When I'm aware at the intuitive level, I am aware of what is about to happen, and of the choices I'm making, or not, at that time....

 It's not about the illness; for it is known that before an illness appears, the healing energies are present in our aura. So, I had seen it. 

It's not about 'me', because our boundaries are not as rigid as we imagine, and healing, being about wholeness, involves all who are near and dear to us.

Anyway, what's it all to do with the healing party? I wasn't  sending out for healing and  seeing why in that area as well, when suddenly in one of my healing groups, a call was sent out for another. As we got together, there was a miraculous event, and so I sent out mine.

Shall I ask another, she asked me, "the more the merrier"

That really hit me! Nicely.

We celebrate birthdays in physical and cyber space, and room launches- over at the 50+stars group today - and weddings and I've even heard of divorce parties.

So - why not a healing party? Why not be merry? For the healing started with the asking. Actually, before it.

So- we celebrate. And I'm going on a drive with my husband to pick up my mother from my sister's place..

And that's healing in itself.

I got some facts from my father who's visiting us :

Dada, is it Hardwar or Haridwar?

Both, he said - it can be called etiher Hardwar or Haridwar. Har after Lord Shiva and Hari is Lord Vishnu. But it is more appropriate to call it Haridwar, because it is on the path to Badrinath, which is the abode of Lord Vishnu.

And what about Dehradun?

That is about 3,000 feet above sea level. It is on the foothills.

And Rishikesh....even higher.

And Kulu Manali?


So now I am reminded of my journeys to the Himalayas. For indians they're not just mountains, they're places where rishi- munis live; the sages who are sometimes even more revered than the Gods; the ones who are in samadhi, deep meditation, in constant awareness of what is happening in the world and worlds.

There is that inner journey in which I have visited the HImalayas and felt the sages who live there, yearned even in childhood to be around the miracle of their living, and then there are the travels in childhood.

So for now: Haridwar.

There is an old family photo of three sisters: there is the oldest holding her littlest sister in her lap, almost bent over with her weight, as she was but three years younger, and the middle one on the side. In those days, when we posed for pictures, we would fan out our frocks. I seem to remember doing that.... Of course, it's a black and white photo.

Even then the marvel of the Ganga flowing swiftly by, was a huge draw. We stayed in a rest-house on its bank, and played in its icy waters each morning. The current is so swift, but my father said that in childhood they'd swim on it.

When I was first told that Christ walked on water, I pictured him walking on the Ganga at Haridwar.

I don't remember much more than the fresh breeze that I feel still, and that refreshes me.

We were told that the Ganga has pure water that can never be polluted. Human beings habitation and industries on the banks have put that myth to rest. But in our hearts, the Ganga too is not just a river; it is a symbol of purity that flows within.

I remember my great-grandfather, the huge bear-like man who was the kindest, gentlest grown-up I knew, who accompanied us. And Naniji, great-grandmother, the wisest person I have ever met- smallest in height, a delight to children, and largest in influence, a source of continuing wisdom. 

And the blessed presence of my dearest parents, who are visiting us now.

In the way that space and time come together, we are all together here - accompanying Swamiji as he makes his way back to his beloved mountains, with Nanaji and Nanima who are now revered ancestors, with my childhood self , always serious, whose hand I hold, and whom I embrace lovingly - ah yes, there is now a smile on the face.

And all my friends on Gaia, whose presence has caused this one to smile, and be sustained and happy --are there with me.

Thank you all.

Being alive, we inflict hurt without awareness
Being emotional, we feel hurt in many ways
Being social, we learn ways of showing  in public
Being loving, we know that hurt HURTS
Being intelligent, we know the processes of hurt and its removal
Being empathic, we feel the hurt of some or all
Being spiritual, we transcend hurt feelings
Being healers we transmute the hurt
Being still, we are aware of the hurt and what is within and around it
Being human, we have the choice of all of these.


[inspired by the discussion Open Windows. How do I handle my hurt feelings - 2 ]