What About India?

since you asked

Taking pictures of anything inside of the ashram, unless authorized for the sake of the ashram, is strictly forbidden. There are spaces that are reserved for the Sacred alone, to help sustain the presence of presence, not to be diluted by the desacralizing pop culture domination.

I took one picture on a walk. Here it is. These two. Anyone who has traveled knows them. They capture the mystery. The unfathomable and almost senseless interdependent web. I could hear the souls of Mrs. Cow and Mr. Egrit when in the stars, discussing this contract on Earth, laughing. The most unlikely coupling. And yet, the symbolism. They are not two and they stand side by side. Heaven and Earth.

The feeling in the moment this picture was taken was of a homecoming, seeing old friends, a love of the awareness within me, to feel what can never be captured in a picture or a Petri dish. I was washed in an upwelling of deep gratitude for being part of something bewilderingly- marvelously- mysterious and perfect, especially when it seems odd. If there is anything deep to share with you about my journey it is simply captured here. No hashtag, “my story” or mind teasing twitter.

And yet, what about...

India- the story does not belong to me. In some ways it is none of my business, and to be respectful- which India deserves my ever present prostrations- I am aware that anything I may reveal too soon, or ever, risks blasphemy.

India- the handfuls of hair, the sheds of skin, the storms of sweat and tears, and yes I bled. The shrapnel of armor blowing off my heart from Her weapon of mass devotion- all left to compost in the near unbearable swelter of Her bosom nested upon the Arabian seashore.

India- I am not this body-“Shira, you deserve to let your body heal”. Everything is inside of me- there is no me. There is no separation- bow to the Guru. It’s all karma- the past is cancelled check, the future an illusion. Stop trying- stay at the altar and pray. There is nothing you can do- seva will heal you.

India- a black faced dark cloud, Kali reigning down, pain finally breaking, parting, revealing that I have been in service to the light every second of every step of the way. “that 47 year storm was your seva daughter, receive, let go of that shame.”

India- where I laid down all of the suffocated cries of the mothers of daughters of mothers unable to speak of the fathers and grandfathers and all those others- and the hurt people who hurt people. No blame. I fed them back to The Altar to be eaten by the First Flame burning forever in Her heart. What is this shoulder pain really?

India- your soil speaks of Jesus’ feet, the shaman’s song, the first word. The shepherding hand takes many forms depending on the time and terrain, but the origin, the teachings, the light is all the same. Om Shri Gurubhyo Namah Hari Om, Amen, Aho.

India- is this Kundalini or am I going crazy? I fear I will lose my mind and that’s the point. I sense the resistance to the insignificance of my Self. I want to be something! Witness the urge to make things happen before their time. Witness the urge to make things happen at all.

India- where you learn to stand on your head because everything is flipped upside down to finally stand up for your Self. And posture has little to do with the body and the body will eventually tell you so. Namaste

India- is home, a home that finally taught me about home. I had to go back home to Mother to grow up proper. To now be set out on my way with a knapsack full of Her best recipes rather than a belly full of pain. No more running towards or away.

India- “but I had plans, places to see, things to be” - “the temple is right here or nowhere.”

India- “Mother, do you have a message for me?”

“God Himself will be the servant of the person who has gained one-pointedness of mind. Mother guarantees this. Try and see what happens.”

Om Namah Shivayah- since you asked.

Shira