excerpts from the preface (2)

When the soul is naughted and transformed, then of herself she neither works nor speaks nor wills, nor feels nor hears nor understands; neither has she of herself the feeling of outward or inward, where she may move. And in all things it is God who rules and guides her, without the mediation of any creature. And the state of this soul is then a feeling of such utter peace and tranquility that it seems to her that her heart, and her bodily being, and all both within and without, is immersed in an ocean of utmost peace.... And she is so full of peace that though she press her flesh, her nerves, her bones, no other thing comes forth from them than peace. - St. Catherine of Genoa

The interior person lives his life according to these two ways; that is to say, in rest and in work. And in each of them he is wholly and undividedly; for he dwells wholly in God in virtue of his restful fruition and wholly in himself in virtue of his active love.... This is the supreme summit of the inner life. - Ruysbroeck

This is the only kind of inaction the Gita recommends. It is not possible to do nothing, Krishna says; the very nature of the mind is to be active. The Gita's goal is to harness this activity in selfless service, removing the poisonous agency of the ego.

Either one must learn to have God in his work and hold fast to him there, or he must give up his work altogether. Since, however, man cannot live without activities that are both human and various, we must learn to keep God in everything we do, and whatever the job or place, keep on with him, letting nothing stand in our way. - Meister Eckhart

G. K. Chesterton once said that to understand the Sermon on the Mount we should look not at Jesus but at St. Francis. To understand the Gita I went to look at Mahatma Gandhi, who had done his best for forty years to translate those verses into his daily life. Seeing him, I understood that those "who see themselves in all and all in them" would simply not be capable of hating others. (Augustine said daringly, "Love, then do as you like": nothing will then come out of you but goodness.) I saw too what it meant to view one's body with detachment: not indifference but compassionate care as an instrument of service. I saw what it means to rest in the midst of intense action. Most important, I grasped one of the most refreshing ideas in Hindu mysticism: original goodness. Since the Self is the core of every personality, no one needs to acquire goodness and compassion, they are already there. All that is necessary is to remove the selfish habits that hide them.

These are not separate paths, separate ideals. All three passages describe one person: vital, active, compassionate, self-reliant in the highest sense, for he or she looks to the Self for everything and needs nothing from life but the opportunity to give. In brief, such a person knows who he is, and in that knowing is everything.

This is not running away from life, as is so often claimed. It is running into life, open-handed, open-armed: "flying, running, and rejoicing," said Thomas a Kempis, for "he is free and will not be bound" - will never be entangled in self-doubt, conflict or vacillation.

One of the most appealing features of the Gita for our times is that it clears up misunderstandings about the spiritual life and shows it for what it is: active, joyful, intentional, a middle path between extremes that transfigures everyday living.

... but shraddha means much more. It is literally "that which is placed in the heat": all the beliefs we hold so deeply that we never think to question them. It is the set of values, axioms, prejudices, and prepossessions that colors our perceptions, governs our thinking, dictates our responses, and shapes our lives, generally without our even being aware of its presence and power.

Our lives are an eloquent expression of our belief: what we deem worth having, doing, attaining, being. What we strive for shows what we value, we back our shraddha with our time, our energy, our very lives. Thus shraddha determines destiny. As we think, so we become.

Like our thinking, therefore - like us ourselves - shraddha evolves. The purpose of karma is to teach the consequences of shraddha, so that by trial and error, life after life, the individual soul acquires the kind of faith that leads to fulfillment of life's supreme goal.

"Whether you like it or not, whether you know it or not," said Meister Eckhart, "secretly Nature seeks and hunts and tries to ferret out the track in which God may be found." The whole purpose of every experience, every activity, every faculty, is to turn the human being inward and lead us back to our divine source.

Life offers no fiercer battle than this war within. We have no choice about the fighting; it is built into human nature. But we do have the choice of which side to fight on:

Remembering me, you shall overcome all difficulties through my grace. But if you will not heed me in your self-will, nothing will avail you. If you egotistically say, "I will not fight this battle," your resolve will be useless; your own nature will drive you into it. (18:58-59) Therefore, remember me at all times and fight on. With your heart and mind intent on me, you will surely come to me. (8:7)

excerpts from the preface (1)

i have not been one to read prefaces. of course, i am embarrassed to recall now my laziness and ignorant dismissal of the value of reading the preface to every book. i mean, if it weren't meant to be read, why would it be there in the first place. i wonder if i gave it that ounce of thought.

i finished reading the preface of eknath easwaran's translation today, and loved it. it is a gentle and beautiful abstraction of the gita, and states succinctly what i found in my 1252 page read but could not summarize. i shall now proceed towards the next stage of my lectio divina and share the excerpts with you here.

Aldous Huxley's Perennial Philosophy: (1) there is an infinite changeless reality beneath the world of change; (2) this same reality lies at the core of every human personality; (3) the purpose of life is to discover this reality experientially: that is, to realize God while here on earth.

To those who take this dramatic setting as part of the spiritual instruction and get entangled in the question of the Gita justifying war, Mahatma Gandhi had a practical answer: simply base your life on the Gita sincerely and systematically and see if you find killing or even hurting others compatible with its teachings. The very heart of the Gita's message is to see the Lord in every creature and act accordingly, and the scripture is full of verses to spell out what this means.

It was Vyasa's genius to take the whole great Mahabharata epic and see it as a metaphor for the perennial war between the forces of light and the forces of darkness in every human heart. Arjuna and Krishna are then no longer merely characters in a literary masterpiece. Arjuna becomes Everyman, asking the Lord himself, Sri Krishna, the perennial questions about life and death - not as a philosopher but as the quintessential man of action. Thus read, the Gita is not an external dialogue but an internal one: between the ordinary human personality, full of questions about the meaning of life, and our deepest Self, which is divine.

... Krishna is not some external being, human or superhuman, but the spark of divinity that lies at the core of the human personality (10:20).

Like physical phenomena, the mind is a field of forces, no more the seat of intelligence than radiation or gravity is. Just as the world dissolves into a sea of energy, the mind dissolves into a river of impressions and thoughts, a flow of fragmentary data that do not hold together.

The image of God is found essentially and personally in all mankind. Each possesses it entire and undivided, and all together not more than one alone. In this way we are all one, intimately united in our eternal image, which is the image of God and the source in us of all our life. - Ruysbroeck

Life cannot offer any higher realization. The supreme goal of human existence has been attained. The man or woman who realizes God has everything and lacks nothing (6:22). Life cannot threaten such a person; all it holds is the opportunity to love, to serve, and to give.

The word dharma means many things, but its underlying sense is "that which supports," from the root dhri, "to support, hold up, or bear." Generally, dharma implies support from within: the essence of a thing, its virtue, that which makes it what it is.

An old story illumines this meaning with the highest ideal of Hinduism. A sage, seated beside the Ganges, notices a scorpion that has fallen into the water. He reaches down and rescues it, only to be stung. Some time later he looks down and sees the scorpion thrashing about in the water again. Once more he reaches down to rescue it, and once more he is stung. A bystander, observing all this, exclaims, "Holy One, why do you keep doing that? Don't you see that the wretched creature will only sting you in return?" "Of course," the sage replied. "It is the dharma of the scorpion to sting. But it is the dharma of a human being to save."

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee. - John Donne

... it is much more illuminating to consider karma an educative force whose purpose is to teach the individual to act in harmony with dharma - not to pursue selfish interests at the expense of others but to contribute to life and consider the welfare of the whole. In this sense life is like a school: one can learn, one can graduate, one can skip a grade or stay behind. As long as a debt of karma remains, however, a person has to keep coming back for further education.

Every state of matter and mind is a combination of these three. They can be illustrated by comparison with the three states of matter in classical physics: solid, liquid, and gas. Tamas is frozen energy, the resistance of inertia. A block of ice has a good deal of energy in the chemical bonds that hold it together, but the energy is locked in, bound up, rigid. When the ice melts, some of that energy is released as the water flows; similarly, rajas - activity - is like a swollen river, full of uncontrolled power. And sattva, harmony, can be compared to steam when its power is harnessed. These are very imprecise parallels, but they convey an important point about the gunas: all three are states of energy, and each can be converted into the others.

Because personality is a process, the human personality is constantly remaking itself. Left on its own, the mind goes on repeating the same old habitual patterns. But by training the mind, the Gita says, anyone can learn to step in and change old ways of thinking. (6:5)

Evolution, according to the Gita, is a painfully slow return to our native state. First tamas must be transformed into rajas - apathy and insensitiveness into energetic, enthusiastic activity. But the energy of rajas is self-centered and dispersed; it must be harnessed to a higher ideal by the will. Then it becomes sattva, when all this passionate energy is channeled into selfless action. This state is marked by happiness, a calm mind, abundant vitality, and the concentration of genius. But even this is not the end. The goal of evolution is to return to unity; that is, to still the mind. Then the soul rests in pure, unitary consciousness, which is a state of permanent joy. (6:20)

Like any handbook, the Gita makes most sense when it is practiced.

When the Gita promises "freedom through renunciation," the impression most of us get is that we are being asked to give up everything we want out of life; in this drab state, having lost whatever we value, we will be free from sorrow. Who wants that kind of freedom?

But this is not at all what the Gita means. It does not even enjoin material renunciation, although it certainly encourages simplicity. As always, its emphasis is on the mind. It teaches that we can become free by giving up not material things but selfish attachments to material things - and, more important, to people. It asks us to renounce not the enjoyment of life but the clinging to selfish enjoyment at whatever cost to others. It pleads, in a word, for the renunciation of selfishness in thought, word, and action - a theme that is common to all mystics, Western and Eastern alike. Work hard in the world without any selfish attachment, the Gita counsels, and you will purify your consciousness of self-will. In this way any man or woman can gradually attain freedom from the bondage of selfish conditioning.

This is a mental discipline, not just a physical one, and I want to repeat that, to understand the Gita, it is important to look beneath the surface of its injunctions and see the mental state involved. Philanthropic activity can benefit others and still carry a large measure of ego involvement. Such work is good, but it is not yoga. It may benefit others, but it will not necessarily benefit the doer. Everything depends on the state of mind. Action without selfish motive purifies the mind; the doer is less likely to be ego-driven later. The same action done with a selfish motive entangles a person further, precisely by strengthening that motive so it is more likely to prompt selfish action again.

By detachment I mean that you must not worry whether the desired result follows from your action or not, so long as your motive is pure, your means correct. Really, it means that things will come right in the end if you take care of the means and leave the rest to Him. But renunciation of fruit in no way means indifference to the result. In regard to every action one must know the result that is expected to follow, the means thereto, and the capacity for it. He who, being thus equipped, is without desire for the result and is yet wholly engrossed in the due fulfillment of the task before him, is said to have renounced the fruits of his action. - Gandhi

This attitude frees a person completely. Whatever comes - success or failure, praise or blame, victory or defeat - he can give his best with a clear, unruffled mind. Nothing can shake his courage of break his will; no setback can depress her or make her feel burned out. As the Gita says, "Yoga is skill in action" (2:50).

Whoever has God in mind, simply and solely God, in all things, such a man carries God with him into all his works and into all places, and God alone does all his works. He seeks nothing but God; nothing seems good to him but God. He becomes one with God in every thought. Just as no multiplicity can dissipate God, so nothing can dissipate this man or make him multiple. - Meister Eckhart

from the preface

two things stood out from this morning's reading of the preface in the gita translation that i am reading:

-it is evident that a form of reading called lectio divina was essential to any deliberate spiritual life. This kind of reading is quite different from that of scanning a text for useful facts and bits of information, or advancing along an exciting plot line to a climax in the action. It is, rather, a meditative approach, by which the reader seeks to taste and savor the beauty and truth of every phrase and passage. This process of contemplative reading has the effect of enkindling in the reader compunction for past behavior that has been less than beautiful and true. At the same time, it increases the desire to seek a realm where all that is lovely and unspoiled is to be found. There are four steps in lectio divina: first, to read, next, to meditate, then to rest in the sense of God's nearness, and, ultimately, to resolve to govern one's actions in the light of new understanding. This kind of reading is itself an act of prayer. And, indeed, it is in prayer that God manifests His Presence to us.

the joy this passage brought me was due to the realization of existence of such a phenomenon, for it beautifully articulates my own aspirations from reading (however little, or not, they may be achieved). but it also helped me realize one reason why we are so fond of giving everything a name... for it is through this name that we communicate with those around us, that we begin to describe the thoughts and feelings we go through in our lives. and in this communication, we bring ourselves closer to each other. it isn't in the name that there is a problem, then, it is in the intent of the naming that we should be careful - for just as we may better connect, so may we better segregate.

The battlefield is a perfect backdrop, but the Gita's subject is the war within, the struggle for self-mastery that every human being must wage if he or she is to emerge from life victorious.

the reason these innocuous and oft-repeated words struck a chord was because they re-exercised the reflection on the choice we have as human beings. a while ago, i had written a post with the line "happiness. is. a. choice.", but truly - so is peace, so is love, so is goodwill, and generosity. naught within us is a function of the external, unless we allow it to be so. this struggle for self-mastery allows us, over time, to exercise this choice at will.

open sesame

the blindfold is removed and i walk with my eyes open for the very first time. there is a newness to the world, and as i find day after day, there is more to it than i had ever imagined. in recent times, i have grown to appreciate so many many new foods, restaurants, music and genres of music, books and genres of books, indeed people and genres of people as well. the walls have been brought down, the doors and windows opened. with this openness i learn to embrace anew the great wonders of this world that surrounds me. it has not once disappointed. not once. and the rewards seem to find me unfailingly every day.

@freight and salvage coffeehouse

the world is being so giving, i can barely keep track. even with my current, reasonably insane, pace of blogging, i find myself missing out on recording some of the most insightful and enlightening moments of my life thus far. never mind. we'll do what we can, yeah?

i am back now from a most memorable concert - my very first scottish fiddle/cello concert (and certainly not my last). my bff, the bringer of many wonderful things to my life, apprised me of this concert yesterday, and i bought my ticket. when she recommends, i need not question, as i found again today. i had dinner with her family and another friend at fellini's (an exquisite italian place on university ave that has excellent chocolate lava and not-as-excellent risotto), from where we headed to freight and salvage almost an hour in advance (to get good seating, and i realized the immense benefit afer). in the line, we ran into old friends and acquaintances of g&l. one of them asked me if i had heard them before. when i said no, that it was my first time, she said, "wow, you're going to be in for a treat aren't you?" indeed, she was right. it was a treat like no other that i remember. in fact, my only source of sadness (if one can call it that) is that there will no longer be a first time. but l assured (and i do not believe her) that every time one listens to alasdair fraser live, it's like the first time.

the music was soul-stirring, to say the least. i have no words to describe the experience and i will not try. it suffices to say that i was introduced to a whole new world today and was left completely floored (may i add that life is kind - it is about the 999th time i have felt thus in the last few months!). i have two of their cd's now, and if you're interested, i'd love to share with you a taste of their music.

"i'll meet you there"

rumi's words to ponder over:

Out beyond the right and wrong,
there is a field. I'll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase "each other" doesn't make any sense.

i love the visual imagery these words generate. i wonder if you see the same beautiful, lush green, sunbathed meadows that i see. where there is no right and wrong, no good nor bad. where our souls lie down to be with each other in earnest, where there is naught but peace. and boundless love. and complete understanding.

on celebrating birthdays

i find myself again in the musical offering, a cafe and music shop (that specializes in and plays only classical music) rolled into one. for the first time, i sit with my back to the door, and find this endearing sign next to the cash counter of the music shop:

10% Discount if you buy music on the composer's birthday!

adorable, yes?

Disturb us...

Disturb us, Lord, when
We are too well pleased with ourselves,
When our dreams have come true
Because we have dreamed too little,
When we arrived safely
Because we sailed too close to the shore.

Disturb us, Lord, when
With the abundance of things we possess
We have lost our thirst
For the waters of life;
Having fallen in love with life,
We have ceased to dream of eternity
And in our efforts to build a new earth,
We have allowed our vision
Of the new Heaven to dim.

Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,
To venture on wider seas
Where storms will show your mastery;
Where losing sight of land,
We shall find the stars.

We ask You to push back
The horizons of our hopes;
And to push into the future
In strength, courage, hope, and love.

attributed - sir francis drake -1577

rilke, again

A billion stars go spinning through the night,
blazing high above your head.
But in you is the presence that
will be, when all the stars are dead.

on individuality

in yesterday's post, i mentioned individuality and asked if the notion of it did not conflict with our greater need to establish a sense of oneness with others. the spark that hit me minutes ago was that individuality need not be (as i then perceived it) about establishing oneself as different from others, but about recognizing that as we are, at least in apparent terms, we do have our differences. after all, we look different, express ourselves differently, possess different skills and talents, etc. i hardly think these differences should be overlooked, because they lend their own contribution to the richness of this world that we all grow from and learn from everyday. the goal, i think though, is to see them for what they are, to understand them and learn to leverage them for the greater good of all, and then to transcend them in order to immerse in the oneness that lies beyond.

"how do they talk?"

here is an excerpt from my morning's reading of the gita (v. 54-65 from chapter 2, which may be my favorite). also, if you're interested in procuring a translation that is easy to read and quick to understand (103 pages instead of 1252, albeit not in all of the allegorical glory) i encourage you to take a look at eknath easwaran's.

Arjuna:

Tell me of those who live established in self-wisdom, ever aware of the Self, O Krishna. How do they talk? How sit? How move about?

Sri Krishna:

They live in wisdom who see themselves in all and all in them, who have renounced every selfish desire and sense craving tormenting the heart.

Neither agitated by grief nor hankering after pleasure, they live free from lust and fear and anger. Established in meditation, they are truly wise. Fettered no more by selfish attachments, they are neither elated by good fortune nor depressed by bad. Such are the seers.

Even as a tortoise draws in its limbs, the wise can draw in their senses at will. Aspirants abstain from sense pleasures, but they still crave for them. These cravings all disappear when they see the highest goal. Even of those who tread the path, the stormy senses can sweep off the mind. They live in wisdom who subdue their senses and keep their minds ever absorbed in me.

When you keep thinking about sense objects, attachment comes. Attachment breeds desire, the lust of possession that burns to anger. Anger clouds the judgment; you can no longer learn from past mistakes. Lost is the power to choose between what is wise and what is unwise, and your life is utter waste. But when you move amidst the world of sense, free from attachment and aversion alike, there comes the peace in which all sorrows end, and you live in the wisdom of the Self.

not that i am likely to have readers who don't realize this, but it is important to keep in mind that the goal is not to abandon our fundamental personality and try to replace it with what we imagine sages to be like. that would be a futile attempt, in all likelihood. it is important to always keep in mind what gilbert says in that book that i (eat, pray,) love (and quote because i cannot say it half as well):

God dwells within you, as you. If there is one holy truth of this Yoga, that line encapsulates it. God dwells within you as you yourself, exactly the way you are. God isn't interested in watching you enact some performance of personality in order to comply with some crackpot notion you have about how a spiritual person looks or behaves. We all seem to get this idea that, in order to be sacred, we have to make some massive, dramatic change of character, that we have to renounce our individuality. This is a classic example of what they call in the East "wrong-thinking." Swamiji used to say that every day renunciants find something new to renounce, but it is usually depression, not peace, that they attain. Constantly he was teaching that austerity and renunciation - just for their own sake - are not what you need. To know God, you need only to renounce one thing - your sense of division from God. Otherwise, just stay as you were made, within your natural character.

yes, that about sums up the picture in my head. for now.

cereal love

yesterday i wrote many things about food, making other lofty statements about giving up and not giving up and being able to give up :). i also wrote about how i've grown to eat cereal every morning. this morning i woke up remembering that it is the one day in the week i fast, and thought to myself, "what a bummer! no cereal today!"

talk about change.

doctor of philosophy

perhaps it is one of those things that only makes sense when you're in it, not outside. why one who successfully completes a phd is called a doctor of philosophy, that is.

i came to berkeley for my undergraduate degree, and it taught me well. i asked the school for a degree in computer science and in math, and it gave without much resistance. i came out thinking i was one of those strongly left-brained people who could think only in symbols and equations, not words. i craved logic, and found it in math. i called myself a mathematician trapped in the body of a computer scientist (but as a friend later said - i was more a little girl trapped in the body of a computer scientist). thank goodness i wasn't born a genius. there would've been no escape. (although if i had been, there may not have been need for escape.)

years later, i come to berkeley for a 'doctor of philosophy' degree. again it gives. without much resistance, it slowly turns me into one of those people. the ones who find themselves at coffee shops lost in thought, in solitary walks, thinking all the time. from a heavily quantitative past, i move into a heavily qualitative, um, future. and then again, who knows. berkeley helped me fit in as an undergraduate, and it helps me fit in as a graduate. at berkeley, i have never felt out of place. and i cannot say the same for most other places i have been. is it a berkeley thing? it must be. it cannot possibly be me.

and now my mind wanders to that day in a different life when i returned home from school to find a highly coveted 'large envelope' sitting on my bed. one that was from berkeley, that said "i love you, papa" in a handwriting i love. that sight is etched within. it decided many of the courses my life has since taken.

ah, but then i was resistant. i had had other plans for myself - of going back to india, of going to the college i'd had my heart set on (the same that my sister had attended, naturally). my world was small then, and i could only aspire within the limitations i had set for myself. i had not learned to set the sky as the limit. years later, have i now? i do not know, but it is unlikely.

g's visit played a critical role then. she told me not to go back to india. she told me that if she'd been in my place, she'd have jumped at the opportunity, and that her brother (and his friends, apparently!) thought the same. i knew my parents wanted it. i decided i'd step out of myself for a change, and do this for my parents. how giving. what an imbecile i was.

and so i came, to this mecca of learning, of self-discovery, of growth. if there is one teaching that this place seeks to instill, it is to explore, to look for oneself, to follow the untrodden path, not walk in another's footsteps. everyday it humbles me, with its greatness, in my littleness. everyday i learn more, and yet everyday i seem to know less. the vastness of the space that lies ahead is overwhelming sometimes, and yet i am led.

as we all are.

less of me, more of you

as i was telling a yesterday, this semester at berkeley has been entirely about taking classes that encourage one to step out of oneself and into the lives of others. the goal appears to be to learn to progressively silence the ego so that one is able to be less and less like oneself and more and more like everyone else. and perhaps it is only when one is able to be like everyone else can one truly understand everyone else. it is said, after all, that we can only know through experience.

does this turn the concept of 'individuality' on its head, then? is there a sense to this madness at all? a deeper thread that coheres this yearning for individuality with the goal of understanding one's fellow beings? there must be a selflessness to this yearning too, yes? at some deeper level?

this post comes from a half-baked thought process. if you can think of light to shed, i'd love to hear. i'll be thinking about this more meanwhile.

ud jayega...

i just translated this for a friend, and thought to share it with the rest of you. kabir's words always inspire, after all, and when kumar gandharva lends his voice to them, nothing short of bliss is to be experienced :).

ud jayega hans akela...

Ud jayega hans akela
Jag darshan ka mela
Jaise paat gire taruvar ke
Milna bahut duhela
Na jaanu kidhar girega
Lagya pawan ka rela
Ud jayega ...

The swan will fly away alone
From the festivities that make up this world
The way the leaves of the tree fall
And are difficult to find
Who knows where it will fall
Who knows where the wind will blow it to

Jab howe umar poori
Tab chhootega hukum huzoori
Jam ke doot bade mazboot
Jam se para jhamela

When this life is complete
Then we shall cease to be slaves
The messengers of Yama are powerful
Thanks to Yama, we will overcome this charade

Das Kabir Hara ke gun gaave
Vaahar kou paar na paaye
Guru ki karni guru jayega
Chele ki karni chela

Kabirdas sings the praises of the Lord
None can escape this Truth
He who does as a Guru will achieve his end suitably
As will he who is the disciple

shabnam virmani's films on kabir are showing these days, at stanford and berkeley, and have left me floored entirely. the themes she explores and the manner in which she does so are spellbinding. i may sound overly effusive on occasion, but so far, the auditoria have been running full, and everyone else appears to be as impacted. if you are conveniently located, in space and time, do check these out. it is the second of these films - koi sunta hai - that is on 'kumar and kabir'. this song is featured in that film and is a beauty to behold.

today's purpose

this day is soon to come to an end, but there's another day coming right up, and always time to have a purpose for :). here is something i just read:

Today I purpose to live

My life will shine
As the morning sings
I walk in liberty
Bound in true dreams
Manifested promises
Chase my forward motion
A covered path before me
The fruits of my hoping
The fruits of my living

Today I purpose to love

My love will speak
With the sound of grace
Merciful within mercy
The works of my faith
Smiles of overflowing
Inspire my giving
Abundance of joy as rain
The fruits of my living

Michael John Faciane

what is this thing called music?

[context: after hours of quiet and working on my computer, itunes suddenly attempted to attract my attention. i clicked on it to find out what was wrong, but didn't see anything. as i was about to shut the program, my eyes fell on the song honey and the moon and i decided to play it.]

in that instant that i was so keenly attentive to, life was changed. i felt that oxygen was being breathed into me even before the prelude came to an end. an overwhelming sense of peace was all that remained. bliss is the only word that comes to mind.

how does it do it?

on food

as i eat my special k and realize that morning tea is now only a memory, i cannot seem to remember when it was before this that i wasn't drinking tea every morning. i'd thought i was addicted, only to find that the transition out was 'quiet as a flake'. sometimes we trick ourselves into perceiving addiction as a routine. what a relief to note that we also occasionally make the opposite mistake!

[trains of thought evolve at rapid pace these days. i now keep an 'observation' notebook, to observe inward and outward processes that i'd like to give some extra thought, lest they come and go without a trace. despite the challenge of having to whip it out and jot something down before the thought has left the realms of my mind, and of even being able to do such a thing in a given situation, i'm fascinated to find that the notebook sees a good number of sparks in a day.]

while cereal is just one example (i am reminded of p's recent comment that she thinks of me when she eats cereal because she remembers that i don't like it - not true any more, phew!), i find that attitudes and trains of thought regarding food in general, have evolved considerably. at some point, i thought i was addicted to ice cream and all things sweet, so i decided to give them up for a period of time. since, i have not experienced a craving for anything sweet, but i had certainly come to avoid sweets altogether. more recently, i decided to give up eating oily, greasy foods altogether, and found i did not miss them at all. it is only when i went on my fruit-and-nut diet did i drive home the realization that i could give up all food and not feel the pain of it (though i suspect i would die soon). and then i realized - that's not the point.

the point isn't to give up everything; the point (as i see it) is to always be able to give up anything at will. and within edibility and principle, i see absolutely nothing wrong in eating everything, while keeping quantities in check. it is true that i am happier to eat healthier food, but once in a while it is okay to eat pizza or ice cream or muffins, if other factors seem to drive things in that direction. renunciation may be necessary/encouraged sometimes, but this too needs to be moderated carefully. i would not like to reject indiscriminately the gifts that nature showers upon us. i'd much rather say, "thank you; a little but no more".

be the tadpole

Live loyally today
-- grow --
and tomorrow will attend to itself.
The quickest way for a tadpole to become a frog
is to live loyally each moment
as a tadpole.

urantia book - 1094:06

a charming berkeley evening

this evening, once again, turned out to be serendipitously beautiful. the ischool tea was at 5 and after saying hello to all the folks i knew and exchanging joyful pleasantries ('workplace' get-togethers were never so fulfilling; i'm in love with faculty, staff, students alike.), i walked back home in the glorious sunshine, immensely grateful for the months of sunlit retreats to come.

as i walked past pegasus, i decided to step in and pay my weekly homage, when i ran into a friend. he was headed to half-price books, then cheeseboard, and asked me to join. i did so freely. we walked several blocks to half-price first, where i upped the count of my translations of the gita (now 4) and also purchased the gospel of sri ramakrishna (that i've been seeking for a while). from there, we walked to cheeseboard, another several blocks away, in the heart of gourmet ghetto.

walking down shattuck may just be one of the most 'berkeley' things to do. on the way, we walked past many very berkeley restaurants, such as chaya, cafe gratitude, chaam, chez panisse, the mint leaf, etc. a even took me inside cafe gratitude to show me a canvas with a quote by ramana maharshi - 'there are no others.' we reached cheeseboard and found that today's pizza was a zucchini, hazelnut pesto, arugula special. there was live jazz, and perhaps the most lively atmosphere i've ever enjoyed. i may not be big on pizza, but i wouldn't sacrifice those 20-30 minutes of live life for anything. the pizza was the side; the dinner was unbeatable.

we walked back, taking in the berkeley atmosphere as we did so. every few blocks were graced by live musicians, also probably homeless. the nature of berkeley lies in the space between the black and the white. perhaps that is why it is oh, so colorful.

and when my heart fills itself thus with love for this precious little town, i'm forced to wonder - is it really the place, or is it me? is this normal? to become one with one's surroundings so completely? do i need to shake myself awake? or am i already there?

this morning

was bright and sunny. as soon as i stepped out of my apartment, my eyes shut themselves immediately on being struck by the strength of the sun's rays. it was beautiful, too, as i walked to school. in fact, so beautiful, that when i realized i had ten minutes to spare before class, i decided to share a quiet moment with a bench opposite the playhouse, on my way up the hill. the sun was warm and gentle, and that part of campus was surprisingly quiet. quiet enough to be able to hear the sounds of silence.

there was a cup of tea sitting in one corner of the bench, rather curiously. soon enough, a lady appeared out of nowhere and sat next to me, beginning to sip her tea. she was talking continuously, and at first, i thought she was just talking to herself, because i couldn't hear a thing she said. suddenly, i heard a "you" and she looked at me and smiled, and i realized that i was meant to be listening. i'm not used to being talked to by strangers i suppose, and wasn't quite prepared for this. (why not, i wonder? after all, this is berkeley.) a flurry of thoughts went through my head in the next five minutes - should i try to listen to her? involve her in conversation? involve myself in conversation? should i let her be instead? am i afraid? why am i afraid? what am i afraid of? could she possibly hurt me? and if she did, what could i do about it? could i prevent it? and who knows, really? should i then avoid every stranger to protect myself from being physically hurt? what will that do for me?

in these questions that took me on quite a journey within, the minutes were up. i had an excuse to get up and get away, since class was about to start. then i wondered - am i relieved? am i eager to leave? and before i do, should i say something to her? if i walked away, would that be rude? i stood up, looked at her and smiled, but she was looking elsewhere, oblivious to my presence. i walked on.

no, i wasn't worried or concerned at any point. in fact, i was grateful to have the chance to really objectively introspect on what went on inside as i faced this new and unfamiliar situation that outwardly demanded nothing of me. the ripples inside were obvious to behold though.

an interesting encounter. berkeley never leaves one without plenty of feasts for thought.

on grazing the cows of others

i haven't written about 'divine interventions' in a while, but last night, again, i was touched to receive in my mailbox, thanks to s, a beautiful story that spoke entirely to my state of mind (also documented in my previous post).

In Indian villages and small towns, people keep cows or buffaloes mainly to get milk for the family. During the day, the animals are sent out to graze along the roads or in the open areas. Young boys serve as cowherds and they take ten to a hundred animals. While the animals are grazing, the boys often get together to play games or just chat. A popular topic of discussion is the animals. Knowledge of animal behavior is shared. They talk of the animals in their care as ‘my’ animals. Number is important, their looks and their milk yield are also features to talk and boast about. They compare ‘their’ cows with those under the care of others and brag. They often get into heated arguments defending their cows. Yet none of them own even one animal and probably never will. Sounds hilarious, rather silly, doesn’t it?

But on thinking about others and myself it occurs to me that we scholars and teachers act much like the cowherds. We interpret, defend and oppose ideas we have read in books as if they were ours. But they are never our ideas, as the cows do not belong to the cowherds. They cannot drink milk of their animals nor profit from their sale. Similarly we do not mould our lives by the good ideas. In fact many of us remain completely untouched.

For instance, depression seems to be descending on us. Scholars cry hoarse about its nature and cause. They also talk of what needs to be done. But when we look at our lives we know that we are totally vulnerable. We will sink line, hook and float when the storm hits.

The ones who are likely to be least affected and to survive are the poor. They have never been to college. Nor have they read any books that theorize on these events. Their strength is the ability to adapt to the environment. When there is more, they enjoy it. In times of scarcity, they reduce their consumption. Their suffering is minimal.

There is a moral to all this. We own only those good ideas that we live by, for only they benefit us. Others are like ephemeral bubbles thrown up by agitated water--here now and gone in the next moment.

the bottom of the pyramid

i'm now tired and sleepy, but wanted to get in a word on the best class discussion i've been part of since i joined berkeley: today we discussed prahalad's theory on the fortune that lies at the bottom of the pyramid. i was one of the self-appointed leaders of this discussion, and therefore thankfully, had gone prepared with a half-decent understanding of the subject. the class is 3 hours long, and that i was wishing it would last another 3 lays testament to the fact that classes are much improved when one has done the readings and made an effort to understand them.

what was intriguing was the realization that academics are more often than not, well, academics. almost as soon as a theory is proposed, they ready themselves to beat it down. i do not enjoy that, and therefore i will never be an able academic (if even one). as expected, i took on the 'balancing' role for every discussion we ended up in. i am not passionate about the fortune at the bottom of the pyramid, but i do believe the theory deserves a listen, and serious consideration. is it not much too easy to perceive it as flawed and beat it down? much too hard to accept the merits of it without doubt? do we take critical thinking a tad too far sometimes? is it taking away our ability to adapt, to accept, albeit with a pinch of salt?

but for now: good night!

on acknowledgements

there was a time, in my early undergraduate days, when i was first introduced to the concept of an "acknowledgements" page as an indispensable part of a phd thesis. indeed, that then seemed reason enough to go to graduate school and get a phd. i wanted to be able to write a page (several, rather) of acknowledgements to thank every person who had played a role in my life. (you think i'm kidding, perhaps. i'm not. that thought has crossed this mind more than once.)

i could not have been very smart. why must i wait till i'm done with my phd to thank these people? why can't i thank today, right here right now, all those people who've brought me to this juncture of my life? i may not ever win an oscar either, but that doesn't mean i'm not grateful for who i am :). and i may not be an aishwarya rai, but thank god really, that i'm not a mass murderer. yeah? (point, if you lost it: i have reason to be grateful.)

my list of people to thank, however, would be impossible to compile. for i don't know all the names, and some people, over the decades, have indeed been forgotten, so that i don't know who they are anymore. be gentle though, can you justly expect me to remember the name of every bus driver who took me home after school, or my kathak teacher when i was 5 from lessons i have no memory of anymore? but to everyone i have shared a moment of my life with, i am grateful. for that the ground beneath my feet is firm today, is attributable to each one of them. and to everyone who they've shared a moment of their lives with, too, i am grateful. for they made their contribution too, at the second degree of separation. and quite unsurprisingly, the world, thus, is covered.

phew. there. i'm done. so now if i finish my phd, it will be for the phd's sake entirely.

eliza doolittle

ha. i just realized that eliza's last name was 'do little'. i wonder if that was intentional.

what am i thinking. it must have been. how adorable :).

what can i do for you?

you know how when you go to a cafe and stand at the counter, someone comes up to you and asks you that question? and then you tell them what they could do? for you?

today, s asked me "what is one thing i could do that would make you smile? always." of course i was smiling already, but that was a hard question to answer. one of those questions that makes you feel - "uh oh, 8&20, you'd better plunge into the depths of your consciousness right now to answer that question." it didn't take me long, however, to realize that the greatest and truest happiness that i can derive from another individual lies in seeing them seek, discover, and manifest their inner-most beauty. that desire (however lofty, however bold) is at once selfish and selfless, because it exists on the simple foundation that there is no 'one' and the 'other'. there is only the 'one'.

and so, gentle reader, if there is one thing you'd like to do for me, to make me smile, may that be it. yes, presumptuous as that may sound (i am reminded of when henry higgins calls eliza doolittle a presumptuous insect :).

the point of this post, however, was for me to ask you - each of you - what can i do for you? anything, at all, to make you smile.

and always.

on service

i just came across these words of tulsidas (as translated by mahatma gandhi) on service. simple, true, and beautiful:

This and this alone is true religion:
To serve thy brethren.

This is sin above all other sin:
To harm thy brethren.

In such faith is happiness.
In lack of it is misery and pain.

Blessed be he who swerveth not
aside from this straight path.

Blessed is he whose life is lived thus
ceaselessly in serving God.

Bearing others' burdens and so alone
is life, true life, to be attained.

Nothing is hard to him who,
casting self aside, thinks only this:

How may I serve my fellow man?

on judging

i am tired of judging, and of seeing people judge. i am tired, most of all, of seeing myself judge another. i want it all to stop. what does judging do if not set apart, segregate, push us to greater distances from each other? right now, i want to defend everyone - my friends, my family - everyone i can think of. i want to defend them against every accusation that the world dares to send their way. so am i really saying that i want to defend the world from the world? is that not presumptuous? who am i to take that right, after all? in that, am i judging again?

it isn't easy. it isn't easy not to judge, to silently rule out cause for differentiation. not as long as the ego is alive. and so long as the ego is alive, so are we. and when the ego dies, do we die too? will i ever know?

i wish only to see things as they are - to shed every hairbreadth of distinction and embrace the heaven and hell of life alike. why is it so hard? what makes it so? is the hardness not just a construct of the mind? can i not demand the strength from you, my god? indeed, only so i may do as you desire, after all?

addendum

it's like when i was at microsoft - some parts of the powerpoint code base were ancient (perhaps even from the very first release of powerpoint). yet, they had been edited and re-edited to be transformed into this monstrosity where nothing made any sense or was effective enough anymore. but who would want to do the hard(er) work of deleting it all to start afresh? not unless the manager stepped in and asked for just that, right? not all of us can be diligent all of the time...

well, there is a manager, for those of us who believe. and sometimes, the code just desperately needs to be written from scratch. more work, yes, but it's worth an assured promotion, right? a bonus too, perhaps?

:)

overcompensating for the fear

today, as n and i talked, several thoughts traversed my mind. one of them was about how varied people respond to varied tests. it occurred to me that, in times of tests, we often run the danger of overcompensating for whatever brings us to the test in the first place. for instance, if too much trust brings us to pain, we may tend to place lesser trust in the world. but perhaps that isn't the best course of action. perhaps it would make better sense to insert reason into trust, to ensure that the trust is well-placed. sometimes we need to look beyond the situation to discover the best course of action. you know what i mean?

this train of thought hit me only because i've fallen victim to this phenomenon only too often in the past. the realization that growth must always be 'global' and not 'local' (to a situation, that is) came rather late. zukav's dichotomy of fear and love comes back to mind, and it is true - we need to be careful that one fear is not replaced by another, or strengthened further; that all fear undergoes transformation (however slow or steady) into love.

so long as we allow our fears to roll into one and add to each other's strength, we trap ourselves into the creation of fear monsters. and the destruction of these monstrous fears, while uber-effective, will come with far greater pain than if we were to gently transform the smaller fears. tnh would refer to these as knots - the new and easy to untie knots, versus the tighter and impossible to disentangle ones.

(i feel inarticulate and disinclined to write more right now, though i'm unsure why. i hope my point is clear: the big picture is where it's at.)

watchmen

:)

by the grace of god, i found myself in a movie theatre for the second time in 9 days. again, for a chilling movie experience. the gore this time was so immense that even as i kept my eyes shut for much of it, i could feel the intensity of the violence in my spine. thankfully, i was able to generate constant reminders that this was a movie, not real life (at least not as i know it, thank you god).

all a result of willingly succumbing to that thing called peer pressure. but emotion and lack of understanding aside, i thought it was a great movie actually :). i do love how we so cautiously bought tickets before-hand, reached the restaurant 15 minutes too early (for the very first time), got to the theatre almost an hour before the movie started (again, for the very first time), only to get great seats to a movie that wasn't even sold out :). a and i even amused ourselves with our respective phones, instead of watching the previews. of course, the previews were of sci-fi movies, since we were there to watch a sci-fi movie (a fact i had previously been unaware of). what we were really there for was to watch a usc-favored song by massive attack, which we found wasn't quite in the movie.

a three hour movie, and the wonder was that i didn't fall asleep once (perhaps it was the sound of the gore). overall an entirely lovable experience, really. i look forward to more such :).

(p.s. my lesson from this experience was that watching a movie isn't just about watching a movie. you know? and it is least of all about whether i personally enjoyed it or not.)

love thy neighbor

and this prayer just turned the concept of 'loving thy neighbor' on its head, for me:

It is not so important to love all men today
as it is that each day
you learn to love one more human being.

urantia book - 1098:03

that is what it is, you know? it's not about waking up one morning and proclaiming to the world - "from today, i shall love everyone". it's about starting with loving the people in our immediate vicinity, one by one, and then slowly but surely making our way to the rest of the world. the journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step. the lesson then applies everywhere.

that was my spark of wisdom for the day :). i'm still overwhelmed at how, like lightning, the insight came.

siddhartha, once more

He now regarded people in a different light than he had previously: not very clever, not very proud and therefore all the more warm, curious and sympathetic.

When he now took the usual kind of travellers across, businessmen, soldiers and women, they no longer seemed alien to him as they once had. He did not understand or share their thoughts and views, but he shared with them life's urges and desires. Although he had reached a high stage of self-discipline and bore his last wound well, he now felt as if these ordinary people were his brothers. Their vanities, desires and trivialities no longer seemed absurd to him; they had become understandable, lovable and even worthy of respect. There was the blind love of a mother for her child, the blind foolish pride of a fond father for his only son, the blind eager strivings of a young vain woman for ornament and the admiration of men. All these little simple, foolish, but tremendously strong, vital, passionate urges and desires no longer seemed trivial to Siddhartha. For their sake he saw people live and do great things, travel, conduct wars, sufer and endure immensely, and he loved them for it. He saw life, vitality, the indestructible and Brahman in all their desires and needs. These people were worthy of love and admiration in their blind loyalty, in their blind strength and tenacity. With the expression of one small thing, one tiny little thing, they lacked nothing that the sage and thinker had, and that was the consciousness of the unity of all life. And many a time Siddhartha even doubted whether this knowledge, this thought was of such great value, whether it was not also perhaps the childish self-flattery of thinkers, who were perhaps only thinking children. The men of the world were equal to the thinkers in every other respect and were often superior to them, just as animals in their tenacious undeviating actions in cases of necessity may often seem superior to human beings.

Within Siddhartha there slowly grew and ripened the knowledge of what wisdom really was and the goal of his long seeking. It was nothing but a preparation of the soul, a capacity, a secret art of thinking, feeling and breathing thoughts of unity at every moment of life.

as i read these words, i marveled at the depths of human consciousness they must have found root in. have you ever wondered - when one writes down their thoughts - where those thoughts must stem from? oft, they are thoughts one understands, likes, identifies with. only rarely do we find in those thoughts an enlivening of our own deepest, so far unacknowledged, truths. and that moment, it is grand, when an unvoiced yearning from within suddenly finds expression in the words of a stranger, no longer a stranger. that is how i felt when i read this passage. there. now the karma is resolved.

ask the river. it knows.

i finished siddhartha yesterday, and have since moved on to reading narcissus and goldmund, but the karma of reading the former is not yet resolved. here is another excerpt before the book and i are 'done'.

But he learned more from the river than Vasudeva could teach him. He learned from it continually. Above all, he learned from it how to listen, to listen with a still heart, with a waiting, open soul, without passion, without desire, without judgment, without opinions.
[...]

He once asked him, "Have you also learned that secret from the river, that there is no such thing as time?"

A bright smile spread over Vasudeva's face.
"Yes, Siddhartha," he said. "Is this what you mean? That the river is everywhere at the same time, at the source and at the mouth, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the current, in the ocean and in the mountains, everywhere, and that the present only exists for it, not the shadow of the past, nor the shadow of the future?"

"That is it," said Siddhartha, "and when I learned that, I reviewed my life and it was also a river, and Siddhartha the boy, Siddhartha the mature man and Siddhartha the old man, were only separated by shadows, not through reality. Siddhartha's previous lives were also not in the past, and his death and his return to Brahma are not in the future. Nothing was, nothing will be, everything has reality and presence."

Siddhartha spoke with delight. This discovery had made him very happy. Was then not all sorrow in time, all self-torment and fear in time? Were not all difficulties and evil in the world conquered as soon as one conquered time, as soon as one dispelled time?
[...]

And once again when the river swelled during the rainy season and roared loudly, Siddhartha said: "Is it not true, my friend, that the river has very many voices? Has it not the voice of a king, of a warrior, of a bull, a night bird, of a pregnant woman and a sighing man, and a thousand other voices?"

"It is so," nodded Vasudeva, "the voices of all living creatures are in its voice."

"And do you know," continued Siddhartha, "what word it pronounces when one is successful in hearing all its ten thousand voices at the same time?"

do you know?

the world is small, small, small...

first, it is exactly one year since my 'admit day' to berkeley last year - that grand old day when i met and talked to my advisor for hours over bread pudding (intensely yummy; take it from a non-dessert lover).

second, i had volunteered to help out with the admit day today, where we had 3 new phd admits visit. imagine my surprise when i ran into an oh, so familiar face, a blast from the past, a co-intern from voltage security - where we were summer interns from stanford, 4-5 years ago.

i'm a little too sleepy now to go into the intricacies of the emotion i felt to see a face re-enter my life thus. life is a continuous flow though, isn't it? and the wonder of it is that you just never know what you're going to get. not even the very next minute. we lead our lives on probabilities and likelihoods, and our ache for control (as a just shared) brings us the notion of certainty. but really, who knows.

and on sunscreen

i remember this from my schooldays - indeed, there was a time when i was still in school :). it was so the rage, and at that point in our lives, we thought we understood the meanings of these words. years later, i wonder if we still really do. perhaps at 85? :)

Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of ’97 -

Wear sunscreen. If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience… I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh never mind; you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You’re not as fat as you imagine.

Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing everyday that scares you.

Sing.

Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don’t waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind…the race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself.

Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life… the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year-olds I know still don’t.

Get plenty of Calcium.

Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.

Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary… what ever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s. Enjoy your body, use it every way you can… don’t be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.

Dance… even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.

Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.

Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.

(Brother and sister together we'll make it through. Someday your spirit will take you and guide you there. I know you've been hurting, but I know I've been waiting to be there for you. And I'll be there, just helping you out, whenever I can. Everybody's free.)

Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for good.

Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you’ll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.

Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're 40, it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen….

(Brother and sister together we'll make it through. Someday your spirit will take you and guide you there. I know you've been hurting, but I know I've been waiting to be there for you. And I'll be there, just helping you out, whenever I can. Everybody's free.)

thank you, baz luhrmann. it's worthwhile, don't you think, to incorporate even a fraction of his advice into our lives? maybe start by wearing sunscreen? ;)

a couple things

today, i came across two readings that left me especially touched. the first was a message from one of my oldest and best friends, wishing me on women's day (i did not know there was such a thing. is there a men's day as well?) here is what the message said, rather lovingly:

God doesn't give you the people you want. He gives you the people you NEED - To help you, to hurt you, to leave you, to love you, and to make you into the person you were meant to be.

Dear God:
The lady reading this is beautiful, classy and strong, and I love her. Help her live her life to the fullest. Please promote her and cause her to excel above her expectations. Help her shine in the darkest places where it is impossible to love. Protect her at all times, lift her up when she needs you the most, and let her know when she walks with you, she will always be safe.

[Now you're on the clock!!!! In 9 minutes something will make you happy.
But you have to tell 9 Ladies that you love them.
Go!!!!]

[no, i didn't follow instructions, i sent it to 4 instead. so that i was made happy in 4 ;).]

the second moment of wonder came while i was at borders (bookshops feel so like home these days) - an old, old song i have always found inspiring. thank you for singing this to me, leann womack.

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty-handed
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances but they're worth taking
Lovin' might be a mistake but it's worth making
Don't let some hell-bent heart leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out, reconsider
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance

on seeking

an excerpt from siddhartha again:

Siddhartha said: "What could I say to you that would be of value, except that perhaps you seek too much, that as a result of your seeking you cannot find."

"How is that?" asked Govinda.

"When someone is seeking," said Siddhartha, "it happens quite easily that he only sees the thing that he is seeking; that he is unable to find anything, unable to absorb anything, because he is only thinking of the thing he is seeking, because he has a goal, because he is obsessed with his goal. Seeking means: to have a goal; but finding means: to be free, to be receptive, to have no goal. You, O worthy one, are perhaps indeed a seeker, for in striving towards your goal, you do not see many things that are under your nose."

reading siddhartha

i am reading herman hesse's siddhartha right now and was particularly moved by this passage that i shall now type out:

How strange his life had been, he thought. He had wandered along strange paths. As a boy I was occupied with the gods and sacrifices, as a youth with asceticism, with thinking and meditation. I was in search of Brahman and revered the eternal in Atman. As a young man I was attracted to expiation. I lived in the woods, suffered heat and cold. I learned to fast, I learned to conquer my body. I then discovered with wonder the teachings of the great Buddha. I felt knowledge and the unity of the world circulate in me like my own blood, but I also felt compelled to leave the Buddha and the great knowledge. I went and learned the pleasures of love from Kamala and business from Kamaswami. I hoarded money, I squandered money, I acquired a taste for rich food, I learned to stimulate my senses. I had to spend many years like that in order to lose my intelligence, to lose the power to think, to forget about the unity of things. Is it not true, that slowly and through many deviations I changed from a man into a child? And yet this path has been good and the bird in my breast has not died. But what a path it has been! I have had to experience so much stupidity, so many vices, so much error, so much nausea, disillusionment and sorrow, just in order to become a child again and begin anew. But it was right that it should be so; my eyes and heart acclaim it. I had to experience despair, I had to sink to the greatest mental depths, to thoughts of suicide, in order to experience grace, to hear Om again, to sleep deeply again and to awaken refreshed again. I had to become a fool again in order to find Atman in myself. I had to sin in order to live again. Whither will my path yet lead me? This path is stupid, it goes in spirals, perhaps in circles, but whichever way it goes, I will follow it.

[and then]

Where does it come from, he asked himself? What is the reason for this feeling of happiness? Does it arise from my good long sleep which has done me so much good? Or from the word Om which I pronounced? Or because I have run away, because my flight is accomplished, because I am at last free again and stand like a child beneath the sky? Ah, how good this flight has been, this liberation! In the place from which I escaped there was always an atmosphere of pomade, spice, excess, and inertia. How I hated that world of riches, carousing and playing! How I hated myself for remaining so long in that horrible world! How I hated myself, thwarted, poisoned and tortured myself, made myself old and ugly. Never again, as I once fondly imagined, will I consider that Siddhartha is clever. But one thing I have done well, which pleases me, which I must praise - I have now put an end to that self-detestation, to that foolish empty life. I commend you, Siddhartha, that after so many years of folly, you have again had a good idea, that you have accomplished something, that you have heard the bird in your breast sing and followed it.

more on patience

a while ago, i had read a story about a zen master who once asked his disciple to get him a glass of water. the disciple, in his rush to address his master's need, ran out the door allowing it to slam shut. when he returned with the water, his master asked him why he had let the door slam shut behind him. he replied that it was to get the master the water as quickly as he could. the master pointed out to the disciple that he had omitted to be mindful in his urge to please the master, and thus failed his lesson.

the story (paraphrased here) has reiterated itself in my head a million times. in fact, each time i find myself consciously at a door, i think of the story and ask myself if i am being mindful as i open/close this door. but it isn't just about doors, it's also about keys, books, computers, cooking vessels, clothes, what have you. mindfulness, in using these items, or transfering them from one place to another, translates to being gentle and cognizant towards the nature of the object. most, if not all, objects of daily use require little force in order to fulfill their function and our needs.

in this post, i had written about patience - towards ourselves, others, and the world. i now add these objects to the list. i find it necessary to treat even the inanimate objects around me with love and gentleness. some peace within is lost when i hear a door slam behind me, or when i am too hasty with washing the dishes, or when i chance to toss my keys onto the bed. i wonder if it all ties in with a sense of gratitude toward the world, the gifts that we are given. that they are not ours forever, but while they are, we must tend to them with care. like a library book that we read, careful not to injure it any way, before we return it in (almost) the condition that we found it.

i find that the more i think, the more i am aware, and the more i am aware, the more avenues i allow for love and peace to flow into my world. i share some of these insights with you to take a chance at igniting a thought process that you may find similarly rewarding.

Welcome Morning

There is joy
in all:
in the hair I brush each morning,
in the Cannon towel, newly washed,
that I rub my body with each morning,
in the chapel of eggs I cook
each morning,
in the outcry from the kettle
that heats my coffee
each morning,
in the spoon and the chair
that cry "hello there, Anne,"
each morning,
in the godhead of the table
that I set my silver, plate, cup upon
each morning.

All this is God,
right here in my pea-green house
each morning
and I mean,
though often forget,
to give thanks,
to faint down by the kitchen table
in a prayer of rejoicing
as the holy birds at the kitchen window
peck into their marriage of seeds.

So while I think of it,
let me paint a thank-you on my palm
for this God, this laughter of the morning,
lest it go unspoken.

The joy that isn't shared, I've heard,
dies young.

- Anne Sexton

from slumdog

the movie begins with this index card -

Jamal Malik is one question away from winning 20 million rupees. How did he do it?
A) He cheated,
B) He's lucky,
C) He's a genius,
D) It is written.

i hope you've seen the movie because i'm going to tell you that it is written. but now i ask, is it really written? a friend wrote me a thought-provoking email yesterday that made me wonder what it would be like to go through life believing that it was all written. does that give me liberty to think that i acted as i was predestined to act, and therefore, that i am not responsible for my mistakes of the past? that sounds dangerous, and therefore, can't be right :). i shall wait to be illumined.

serendipity

there was a time when this was my favorite word. right now, it's my favorite once again. i am reminded of the divine presence in my life today, rather serendipitously. and it is not good, nor bad. it just is. that's the beauty of it, i now realize.

my zen calendar says, for the month of march, "just sit and see what happens."

on confusion

for most of my life thus far, i have believed that confused-ness was a state of the mind given to us at birth. that some people are just inherently more confused than others, and nothing can be done about that, that it is best to accept one's state of confusion as one's arm or leg, and live with it.

in our ignorance we think many crazy things :).

as i understand it (today), confusion is merely lack of clarity, and lack of clarity is fueled by a lack of self-awareness. after all, when the ground i stand on is shaky, i witness an earthquake every second. with inner instability, the outer is unstable also. and who knows the myriad convoluted ways in which the mind may compensate in its effort to stabilize this vision.

we are born, after all, with varied sets of strengths and weaknesses. but we're all on the path that takes us from lesser knowledge (ignorance, if you will) to greater. although some of us seem to be born with clarity, the rest of us may need to 'fight' for our 'rights', for the clarity that grows with increasing self-awareness is indeed our right. and to uphold that right is to allow our inner self to manifest its inherently stable nature.

thus is the benefit of spirituality, in that it provides us with a structure, a well-defined path to walk on, and sufficient freedom to explore. as time passes, the space between stimulus and response is lessened, and we find ourselves more adept in our thought, speech, and action. confusion slowly transforms into a thing of the past.

arziyan

the following is a captivating devotional song from delhi-6. listen to it here. and below is a sorry attempt at translation (and i am leaving out duplicate lines, thus disturbing the flow of the song):

arziyan saari main chehre pe likh ke laaya hoon
tumse kya maangoon main, tum khud hi samajh lo
maula... mere maula....
daraarein daraarein hain maathe pe maula
marammat muqaddar ki kar do maula, mere maula
tere dar pe jhuka hoon, mita hoon, bana hoon
marammat muqaddar ki kar do maula, mere maula

i write all of my pleas on my face and bring them before you
what do i ask for? you yourself can tell
lord, my lord....
there are scars on my forehead,
mend my destiny for me, my lord
at your door, i have bowed, i have been crushed, and brought to life
mend my destiny for me, my lord

jo bhi tere dar aaya, jhukne jo sar aaya
mastiyan piye sabko jhoomta nazar aaya
pyaas leke aaya tha, dariya woh bhar laaya
noor ki baarish mein bheegta sa tar aaya
maula....

whosoever comes to your door, who bows his head before you
is to be found in utter ecstasy
he comes to you with thirst and goes home with the sea
with the shower of your kindness, dear lord, he is blessed
oh lord....

oh ek khushboo aati thi
main bhatakta jaata tha, reshmi si maya thi
aur main takta jaata tha
jab teri gali aaya, sach tabhi nazar aaya
mujh mein hi woh khushboo thi, jisse tune milwaya
maula....

oh, a fragrance used to emanate
and i would fumble in my footsteps, so beautiful was the maya
that i could not keep myself from going after it
but when i came to your doorstep, the truth i understood
that fragrance was in me; and you helped me see it
oh lord....

toot ke bikharna mujhko zaroor aata hai
varna ibaadat wala saroor aata hai
sajde mein rehne do, ab kahin na jaoonga
ab jo tumne thukraaya, to sawar na paoonga
maula....

either i am broken and shattered,
or i am rescued by the intoxication of prayer
let me stay in this state of offering, i do not wish to go elsewhere
but if you turn me away, there will be no hope left for me, ever
oh lord....

sar utha ke maine to kitni khwahishein ki thi
kitne khwab dekhe the kitni koshishein ki thi
jab tu rubaroo aaya nazarein na mila paaya
sar jhuka ke ek pal mein maine kya nahi paaya
maula....

i had raised my head before you and asked for many things
i had seen many dreams, made many attempts
but when you came before me, i could not look you in the eye
in that moment, i bowed my head, and there is nothing i wasn't given
oh lord....

mora piya ghar aaya, mora piya ghar aaya,
maula....

my beloved has come home
oh lord.

on being thankful for evolution

the other day, d told us how he'd always think at the end of the year how much wiser he was than in the beginning of the year, until he turned 25 when he realized he thought this every year :). i've been through this realization every few weeks in the last several months - saying "i can't believe how much i've grown", and "how silly i used to be," only to move a few weeks down the line and find myself reiterating the same about those few weeks :).

it is yet another reminder of the futility of pride. when we realize that even when we think we've "figured it out", we'll think differently in a few days, or perhaps (depending on our pace of change) in a few years, it may inspire us to drop the pride and submit. to that higher self we know we are en route to becoming. if we keep ourselves open, supple, and non-resistant to change and thus growth, that is.

years ago, a had generated an email on change. (some of) it went thus:

most of us went to college, not knowing how much we were to
change...attitudes, values, beliefs, likes, dislikes...

we thought we'd finally figured ourselves out and then we left
college, and changed some more.

she went on to ask how we felt about this in relation to our own lives, and if we had gone through this process or not. this led to an interesting set of mails i revisited today, to learn from my yesteryears, and those of my friends. they generated much food for thought.

the first realization was that i could not understand my own response :). it was vague and incoherent. i do not think it was an inability to express that made it so, but really an inability to think or answer. "never mind, " i thought, "let me look at the context. perhaps then it will make sense." no luck. then i read the entire thread but my (two) responses, and understood where everyone else was coming from. tried reading myself again, and still understood precious little. after multiple reads, i do now understand what i then thought. wrong or not, it's just not something i agree with anymore. what happened? change, presumably. that was the second realization. thank goodness, too. the third (and most key) realization was that i must think carefully before i judge the incoherence of someone's mail - that someone could be me :).

a's email reminded me of my rather terse post on change a few months ago. change is clearly possible, for we sense it in every moment, limited only by our capacities for sense perceptions. is it desirable? yes, for without change, our lives would - by definition - stagnate, correct? perhaps certain kinds of change are more desirable than others, but change, overall, is certainly desirable. is it inevitable? a silly question, i think now. silly me to ask that :). the most intriguing question for me then was the fourth - can it be directed? since, i have blogged verbosely on the subject of cultivating and de-cultivating instinct, but then, i was less sure. now, i will simply say - thank god, yes!

it is intriguing to behold though, that we most often think of change as something that happens to us, less as something we make happen. why is that? the only factors i can think of are inner resistance, fear even, laziness perhaps - all undesirable. can we not simply choose to be proactive about change? can it not be as simple as going through our inner selves with a fine-toothed comb, ascertaining what change would be most desirable for us, and then making it happen? cannot change, like happiness, be a choice too?

ok, that's enough on change, else this post may start to stagnate :).

on growing up

a mail i had written two years ago began with the line - i decided to grow up a little. only, i wish that wasn't once in 20-something years, but everyday :). i'm amazed at how some of us (read "i") shut out avenues for growth all the time, exercising resistance, towards all things animate or inanimate.

i've decided to grow up a little everyday, from now. may the soul be my witness. i will start with shedding my resistance towards experimentation, first things first. and today, as i drink my very first chai latte, i pledge henceforth to become the experimenter of all things (within edibility and principle).

march is the month of sacrifice, after all. of transforming, little by little, the 'lower' for the 'higher'.

oh, the rain!

it's raining... and my first instinct was to say, "well, 'tomorrow' didn't bring the sun." but my next instinct followed quickly, helping me realize that the sun is here, of course, it's just hiding behind the clouds :).

because times of test may cause us sadness, we wish them away with great rapidity. and in that sadness, we allow ourselves to display various other signs of weakness, by veering ourselves off the path of duty, of righteousness towards others and ourselves. the key is to realize that while sadness is okay, weakness isn't. weakness only begets weakness, while strong-ness begets strength. and so, i like to tell myself, that every moment in a time of test when i am able to be strong, i'm given extra bonus points (and moved a few levels up the ladder). for that is when being strong really counts.

it's good to fall often. it is in the getting up that we learn. we needn't worry about lying there, on the cold ice-skating rink, forever. it never happens. not while we live.

the good and the bad

today is one of those days i could do without, yet really do with at the same time. as long as it comes about once a decade. thought of change was prime in my mind, and as i revisited my utterances from the past, i realized how deeply grateful i was to have outgrown many things. the evolution from immaturity to maturity, as far as it may be identified, is a blessing. it really is. the afore-mentioned fear of stagnation, and that of non-irreversibility of positive and constructive change, have left my vicinity. and this is why it helps sometimes to step into one's past. this is why it helps one thus to learn.

as i read, i found myself repeatedly experience goose-flesh. it seemed not to end. words are preserved as is, thanks to technology. a wonder, in fact, that phone-calls and in-person conversations haven't found visual penetration into our lives yet. as i read thoughts, words, sentences, mails, my reflexes took me through a roller-coaster ride of sadness. i wanted dearly to go back and undo all the harm done, all through my living years. i wanted to heal each wound with boundless love, transform every tear to a smile, give not take, you get the picture. i was even so generous (ahem, bargaining here) as to grant that i would willingly be brought back to my present state of affairs, where the karmic laws still act based on my original unworthy actions, if only i could undo. alas, this is not to be either. what this leaves one with, after one does the math, defines regret. this is the bad.

but there is more, with this regret, in the ability to regret. and this is the good. as i turn back the pages of time, i realize that my lessons lead me seamlessly to where i stand today. that i can look back and feel that penetration of sorrow, that i can find my eyes grow wide with shock as i read the words that came so naturally once, that i am discerning enough to count on multiple hands the multiple levels i was faltering on, i am oh, so grateful.

and so i accept.

i accept the path
i had to tread,
there was no other way.
blind i walked
where i was led,
my vision 'twas astray.
too bad, too bad
my soul does cry,
alas, what can be done?
the past is gone,
but oh, my friend,
tomorrow brings the sun.

a thought

as i set new milestones and try to achieve them, i find some days are harder than others. the harder days, oddly enough, are more fulfilling as well. but the easier ones, i find, offer more time to be grateful. and as i attempt to embrace the challenge of living each day in its own right, the promise of growth holds my hand and walks with me on this path. my bookmark informs me that winston churchill has said, "to improve is to change; to be perfect is to change often." no, i shall never be perfect, but i do hope and pray that i change often. (the fear of stagnation must be the next to go.)

and as i ponder more over the nature of life and the ways in which it unfolds itself, i am convinced of one thing: the world conspires to make me a better, stronger person. every day, it gifts me with infinitely many opportunities to construct for myself a better reality. one in which i inch closer to the person i know i wish to become. a moving realization to commence this month with.

and no, i'm not the only one. (to whom the world is thus kind, that is.)

february

february was a month of happiness. albeit a short month, it taught me one tall lesson. that happiness is a choice. no poems, no pretty words to weave into lines this time. i have one lesson to offer. one line alone - to understand, to meditate upon.

happiness. is. a. choice.

on cathartic recoveries

in this recent post, i had mentioned a rather critical loose end that needed tying up. today, i met my former music teacher, for the first time in a few years. the meeting was beautiful and memorable, and i found the chance i sought to 'confess'. despite the extended silence and the unmet expectations, forgiveness found its way out, and with tremendous rapidity. the meeting quickly became one of the most memorable ones in my book.

catharsis. i know what you mean now, word. a chapter was closed, as a new beautiful one opened - one of honesty and understanding, of sincerity and love, and perhaps an ever-so-gentle touch of integrity. when after my one-hour meeting i stepped out to walk in the rain - back to my car which was parked quite a distance away, i had one important phone call to make. and as i began to speak, tears flowed. freely and profusely. i realized how the guilt had accrued over the years. i realized how the weakness that had gotten the better of me had caused a latent build-up of anguish unimagined. i realized the extent of grief caused by the ego; how it unfailingly builds us up to our fall. i realized that a moment's sacrifice of the ego brought hours of fulfillment ('days' in a few days, perhaps). and i realized that love is the eternal survivor; all else perishes.

thank you for this day and the lessons it taught me, dear god.