A thought

Was there a time in the history of humankind when there was no thought? Every thought has a birth and death, does it not? Must it not then follow that there was once no thought, and then the first was born? What was this first thought, I wonder...

Today's was an Eckhart Tolle morning, and there are two thoughts he left me with that I'd like to share:

1. Make the present moment your friend, not your enemy.

2. When we act according to the highest light we can see within us, more light finds its way in.

Apologies

Earlier today, I posted excerpts from The Secret. I take these back now, with the realization that a little knowledge is sometimes a dangerous thing.

I must admit I do believe that this book is a little in that realm of offering a little knowledge that cannot stand alone on its own two feet. What one takes from it and runs with is anybody's guess really, and that thought makes me rather uneasy. When a kind friend helped me understand the implications from an alternate perspective, I felt rather sheepish about exhibiting this content on my blog.

If you wish to read The Secret, by all means read it. But pray, do keep in mind that most of the great masters it quotes have said a lot more than just what the book presents. The lessons of detachment, mindfulness, acceptance and surrender, equanimity, selflessness... are also to be kept in mind, as one embraces the attitude of gratitude, positive thinking, visualizing goals, and what have you.

I hope we understand each other :).

To the world at large

[and to me in particular]

Let it be known that life, in this moment, is very very good. It may not have felt so yesterday, as I packed to leave home again. And it may not seem so tomorrow, as I grapple with complex research questions at work. But right now, in this moment, it is very very good. I cannot think of anything more to ask for, even as I find myself miles away from a soul I know... as I dissolve in silence.

And gratitude.

So Far So Good

Ever since I stated my goals and began to visualize them, I've made some noticeable progress on most (if not all) sectors. Allow me to bore you with the details. Or allow me to allow you to skip reading this post entirely. That will do you good. And don't say I didn't warn you!

• I entered a bookstore, not intending to buy a thing really, and my eyes instantly fell on a book of digital photography soon as I entered. This spoke to some of the things I'd been trying to figure out how to do with my photos. Honestly, it was a clear step up. I'm a little better now, and have a tutorial lined up for tomorrow by someone who generously offered to teach me some photo-polishing techniques in Photoshop.
• The very same coworker is an expert at Illustrator and illustrated some remarkable tricks today that left me floored. I absolutely have to learn to use this better, and he's going to pass on a copy of Illustrator for Dummies to me tomorrow. Step up.
• As for singing - I have found a potential guru, sort of. Regardless, steps have been taken to generate a plan for the near future. In the meantime, meditation upon music continues.
• Writing down the bones, no questions there.
  
• The process of photography doesn't ever stop. The digital photography book taught me some great techniques for better management of light, different styles of compositions, etc. I also learned how my dSLR does its metering, after all these years. The India: Then and Now book brought new perspective on perspectives, especially for building/landscape captures. Clear and solid step up.
  
• Not learning Bangla yet, but certainly trying to follow the Bangla words used in the biography I am reading currently. Let's say that counts.
• Can't say I've embarked upon solid research questions to explore. However, a long mail update was just dispatched to the advisor, and we'll be talking later this week on phone. I'd say there's progress towards progress.
  
• Continuing to be positive and enthusiastic. Laughing in loud, uncontrolled guffaws. And refraining from homesickness (now that is a big deal!).
• Loving as much as I can, and trying to love more. With non-attachment and acceptance. The progress is less discrete, and there's still a long way to go. We'll be hopeful for now, though.
• Yep, growing. Trying to expand horizons as we speak. Getting to know new people, more people. Trying to learn new things. I suppose this one is hard to avoid even, though!

acceptance

is august's votm, and i start my thought process with past reflections.

intriguing it is indeed, to find that lessons could do with endless repetitions. in the school of life i'm really barely passing :(.

and yet, this too i must learn to accept :).

July

After a tussle between mindfulness and empathy, decisiveness won the VOTM spot. On the flight to Bangalore today, I jotted down the following reflections on making decisions:

The power to make decisions stems from the availability of 'choice'. Those who are blessed with the wealth of resources have also the power, more often than not, to choose what to do with this wealth. The question then remains - what do we do with this power? How best may we utilize it? How do we decide - to do one thing and not another?

I have often entertained the desire of having a 'little person' sitting inside of me, telling me what to do, and all the time. This little person would just know the right thing to do at all times, and guide me to the right path without fail. It took me some time to realize that this fantastic dream of mine was actually real - this 'little person' did exist. It was the voice of my gut, my conscience.

It is this voice that tends to the mind when it has successfully trapped itself in its daily quandaries, as a mother tends to a child who's stuck with his hand inside a cookie jar and cannot get it out. It is then up to the child to let go, let the mother take over, or to resist any help and continue stubbornly to struggle. [This may not be the best analogy, but hopefully it brings the point across.]

To get up or not to get up, the mind asks. "Get up," the voice says.

To eat or not to eat a third slice of this super-indulgent cake? "Not to eat," says the gut.

To let my ego come in way of helping out a friend in need? "Not ever."

And so it goes. The mind plays truant all too often. No doubt it is so often referred to as the 'monkey mind'. But thank heavens for the gut, that brings it back in place. The struggle between the two doesn't 'start' or 'end'. It was and will be. Unless we enter the realm of the Buddha's existence, but the chances are just so slim we might as well leave them out of consideration.

Daunted by the enormity of the task that lay before me of this struggle (when I first awoke to this inner reality), I didn't really know how I could become a fitting defender of this voice, this gut. It always seemed so much easier to let the mind have its way. Despondently I'd wonder - will it always be this way?

It has been a slow learning process (though 'slow' and 'fast' are also constructs of the mind), but I have learned that this conscience evolves as well. It grows from seed to plant to flowers and fruits that are more fragrant and far sweeter than any other. All it asks is to be fed some attention. The more we tend to it then, the more it tends to us.

And as I close this post, I am fondly reminded of this story I had shared with you earlier - about the good wolf and the bad wolf. I suppose I have only reiterated its import.

On The Secret

I shared earlier that I loved the book and felt empowered by it. A friend led me to a critique that was well-written and effected a balance. I now feel better equipped to write my review. The truth is that the 'secret' has been no secret, really. Few people have made good use of it, true. And now too, few people will make good use of it - it's just the way the world is. But folks like Thich Nhat Hanh or Swami Vivekananda said no different.

There is a 'sensationalized' component to the book, which could go both ways. On the one hand, I feel that it packages the message of positivity, gratitude, careful application of energy, importance of visualization, etc. in a really effective manner. On the other, though, hullo! Do I really want myself to achieve all the things that I could if I put my mind to it? That sounds conflicting, but if what the book says about being able to achieve all that our heart desires is true, such that people dedicate all of their energy thus to acquisition of material wealth, would not the world go berserk?

One could argue that if one practices as per The Secret by being grateful and positive all the time, that one couldn't possibly be a potential hoarder of material wealth, but that's in the gray. The book clearly states that the universe has enough and more of everything for everyone. So we can all be in abundance. Yay. Is it true? What about people, for instance? If a man wants to be dating many women non-committally, he finds three to alternate among. When he decides he wants to settle down, he gets rid of (at least) two of them. Just like that. It sounds a little out of control to me.

Yet. I do really believe that what a man chooses to achieve, he can and he will. There must also be the tiny component of discernment thrown in, that is all. He must be able to think for himself whether his demands, his 'visualizations', are in the best interest of him and his surroundings.

And if you have that ability to discern, but would like an effective action plan for helping you inch towards your goals, then the book is for you. It is true that I say this because I really, truly feel that the book is for me. In my next post, I'd like to outline precisely why this is so.

On Gratitude

I've been chanting the "be grateful" mantra for several years now. Of course, the second the going gets tough, the mantra gets going too! I'm hoping these two moving accounts (my recent discoveries from The Secret) will do a better job of holding me to it. I've been practicing already, and while I cannot say "it has brought about wondrous changes in my life already!" I can say that it feels good. And feeling good feels good indeed :).

Gratitude has been such a powerful exercise for me. Every morning I get up and say "Thank you." Every morning, when my feet hit the floor, "Thank you." And then I start running through what I'm grateful for, as I'm brushing my teeth and doing the things I do in the morning. And I'm not just thinking about them and doing some rote routine. I'm putting it out there and I'm feeling the feelings of gratitude.

- James Ray

I think everybody goes through times when they say, "Things aren't working right," or, "Things are going bad." Once, when there were some things going on in my family, I found a rock, and I just sat holding it. I took this rock, I stuck it in my pocket, and I said "Every time I touch this rock I'm going to think of something that I'm grateful for." So every morning when I get up, I pick it up off the dresser, I put it in my pocket, and I go through the things I'm grateful for. At night, what do I do? I empty my pocket, and there it is again.

I've had some amazing experiences with this idea. A guy from South Africa saw me drop it. He asked, "What is that?" I explained it to him, and he started calling it a gratitude rock. Two weeks later I got an email from him, in South Africa. And he said, "My son is dying from a rare disease. It's a type of hepatitis. Would you send me three gratitude rocks?" They were just ordinary rocks I found off the street, so I said "Sure." I had to make sure that the rocks were very special, so i went out to the stream, picked out the right rocks, and sent them off to him.

Four or five months later I get an email from him. He said, "My son's better, he's doing terrific." And he said, "But you need to know something. We've sold over a thousand rocks at ten dollars apiece as gratitude rocks, and we've raised all this money for charity. Thank you very much."

So it's very important to have an "attitude of gratitude."

- Lee Brower

Goals!

Alright, world! The Secret has empowered me. I shall now visualize the following and make them happen in my life :) -

• Become an expert at Photoshop such that I can effect all the changes I visualize within, especially with my photos. No more whining 'I wish I knew how to Photoshop'.
  
• Become an expert at Illustrator such that I can create posters, images, etc. No more looking at Kabir artwork and thinking 'I wish...'.
  
• Be regular at singing, keep the process of learning going (ideally, find a guru). No more 'I need to', 'I will', 'if only's.
  
• Write down the bones, i.e. write write write.
  
• Photograph a lot, and often. State clear goals for evidence of improvement.
• Learn Bangla, so as to read Tagore in his original works.
  
• Embark upon solid research questions to explore.
  
• Be the most positive and enthusiastic person I know.
• Love indiscriminately, and all the time.
  
• Grow!
  

Inspired

I was at Time Out yesterday, and although there wasn't a plan to buy anything (I've purchased quite a library for myself this summer, honestly), I picked up The Secret, read 30 pages, and couldn't resist. It's a quick read, and I finished all of it yesterday. True that most of the ideas had been encountered elsewhere, yet - I'm in love. It's an amazing package of positive thought, and intensely motivational.

There are many things in it that I'm struck by, and will take some time to write about these. For now, however, I'd like to leave you with this mantra - don't let a negative thought enter your head. As soon as it comes, find a positive thought to counter it. In fact, maintain a bank of positive thoughts. Think positive. Think love.

More soon :).

What makes a good picture?

Honestly, I don't know. But it's a good thing to think about I realize, for there is certainly something in it that comes from a very deep location - the something that decides the what and how to click and the what and how to pick.

One Art

This poem by Elizabeth Bishop blew my mind. How easy she makes it sound... but still, perhaps there's some merit in the idea of doing it step by step.

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

---Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

On Stopping the Train

I stole this from a blog post I just read. Still reeling from the impact of it:

X : Her internet connection should be taken off!
Y : Why?
X: She seems to have time only for checking her mails during office hours resulting in total negligence at work.
Y: Well, if she looks out through her window watching a train passing by, will you go and stop the train?

Photophilia

I said in my post last evening that I discovered photography anew. More detached now, I realize that this happens often... and feels no different from discovering a new side to someone we know well. Yet, our love grows in leaps and bounds as we discover these new sides, and so it is with me and the camera. Taking a picture becomes much like taking in a sip of water then, and yesterday, I had been in the desert for days, it seemed. As N gave me the liberty to click indiscriminately, I found my energy levels rise slowly, and a fullness prevailed within. It is lovely to be able to capture sights, and the potential potency of a visual capture is really something else. [Yesterday, we talked about how I am forever at a loss for descriptors these days, such that everything is "really something" or "really something else". I can't remember to whom or when though!]

I am helped by the existence of a dear friend from Bangalore (well, at least one, at any rate). While I walk the streets of the city, I do my best to step out and into her shoes - wondering what would make her nostalgic, what would move her as a 'gift' from home, what is the closest I could bring her to home and how? Thank you camera, thank you smugmug, for allowing me to reach her thus :). (And thank you P, for helping me exercise this ability!)

On the way back to Yelahanka, I reflected on a thought process I'd had on M.G. Road. I heard a girl say on the phone, "I'll hang up now, it's really crowded here and my cellphone could get stolen." And here I had an expensive camera generously on display. For a second I wondered if I ought to be more careful. But I had considered that option, packed in my camera, then taken it out again, dismissing the concern. In just a few minutes of walking empty-handed, my fingers had itched, and my eyes had longed for the viewfinder - to capture the richness of the street scenes.

There'd been a time (a very long time) when I was terribly possessive about the camera, and would be extra-alert when it was handled by someone else. I'd also carry the bag with me everywhere, so as to ensure that it was never stolen. Even the thought of it being stolen was uber-painful then. Now, there is no anxiety on that count. I frequently offer it to others to click with (including my four-year old niece and photographer-in-training, though the strap goes around her twice to adjust to her size :). I also embrace the possibility of it getting stolen one of these days, as I click in crowded rural/urban streets indiscriminately. It seems not to bother me at all (and this when I earn a fifth of what I did then!).

A comparison of these two attitudes led me to wonder if one was decidedly better than the other. The latter brings more peace, but does it also make me less attentive, more lax? And even if I was possessive before, I was devoted to the care of the camera, I tended to it as a mother to a child (well, almost). For any two choices, if one involves peace, that's where my pull is, yet it is instructive to realize that it is not all black and white, ever. No shortage of the grey. In fact, ye to "thoos thoos ke bhara hai" (as Qawwal Farid Ayaz would say).

Laagi, laagi...

S shared this with me last evening:

Laagi laagi sab koi kahe, laagi buri balaa
Laagi hoye jab janiyo, aar paar hoi jaaye

I offer a rough and literal translation:

"I'm struck", "I'm struck", everyone says - they have caught this bad habit
When you're struck, you'll know, for all will be a-scatter

MG Road on a Saturday

Inspired by Kabira Khada Bazaar Mein, I headed out to M.G. Road (oh dear, that was a terrible attempt, but so very close...). My belief in the spontaneous making of plans served me well, and N and I overcame various hurdles to finally meet. After 21 years. It is amazing to see the ways in which people change, and just as amazing to see the ways in which they don't. I saw the same eyes, the same smile, similar height difference perhaps, but a very different spirited friend. It was, in all, a lovely sight to behold, and I was happy just to look and listen. Of course, a camera was involved as well.

Rewind. After an inexplicably tearful afternoon, I headed out to town with only an objective of indulging in city sights, and in solitude. Although I'd carried my camera out of habit, I had no desire then to click. Another one of those things I mechanically forced myself to do (carry, that is). There is something to be said for energy-inducing inspiration though... as we crossed M.G. Road and I saw the construction workers at the Metro site, I felt a sudden surge to take a picture of them. And so the photography began, as though for a first time. [Photos to be posted on Smugmug in no time.]

Blossom was the only plan I'd had, but it must now wait until next time. As I waited at Barista for N, I saw a gentleman give me a kindly look and smile. I wondered if I knew him from elsewhere, but couldn't quite place him. As I returned a half-confused smile and walked on further, I saw the reason for his smile - his digital SLR. Interesting, is it not - this understanding so tacitly shared between photographers? Or the lovers of any art, for that matter. We are polyglots without even knowing it.

Kabir on a Saturday

I came in to the office today, and see it on a Saturday for a change. A big presentation awaits on Monday, and it could do with more work, hence. No one else is around, and although I could now go home, I decided to stay back and immerse in Kabir for a change, on my own. I had seen the four films last in the U.S., and have since kept a small distance, knowing that the right time would reveal itself when revisiting would become a meaningful experience.

The last few days have been strangely contemplative. Perhaps the effects of the eclipse :). I found myself disinclined to sing at S's place this morning - a first. This would not do, I thought. And to overcome the inertia, I finally made myself pick up a DVD and push it into the disk drive. (This took some labor.) Found myself on Had-Anhad, and re-experienced an introduction to Malwa, to Prahaladji, to Pugal, Mukhtiyar, to dohas that are now an element of daily life. I feel shaken. Not sad, not moved even, nor nostalgic, but shaken. To no small degree, I found tears streaming down my face, and I could not explain. Something is transformed within, yet I cannot put my finger on it. Instead of rambling on in riddles that I'm myself unable to solve, I leave you with (surprisingly) the first doha that has made it to this blog. Fittingly, too. Straight out of Had-Anhad, straight out of Mukhtiyar's crystal clear voice, and straight out of the essence of Kabir:

pothi padh-padh jag muha to pundit bhaya na koye
dhai akshar prem ke padhe so pundit hoye

Reading book after book, no one became a pundit,
But he who reads the 2.5 (or 4) letters of 'love' - he is fit to be a pundit.

A Suspension of Belief?

As I meditated this morning, many images flashed past the mind (clearly the goal was not being met). One that came particularly unexpected was that of me on the Lakshman Jhula. I have a vivid recollection of my visit to Roorkee when I was perhaps 6 or 7, from where we headed up to Rishikesh and Hardwar to pay homage to the Ganga.

The Lakshman Jhula is a suspension bridge, built across the river. I distinctly remember my feeling of deep fear as I walked on it, desiring nothing more than to get off it, even as I held on to someone (I cannot remember if it was a parent or a cousin now) for dear life. The view was spectacular, but how was I to tell? My eyes were tightly shut and opening them for a second came with intense fright. How was anyone to assure that there was no need to fear?

The analogy seemed particularly potent this morning, as I realized how I have oft done that in life as well - held on to someone or something for 'dear life', stubbornly shut my eyes, and wished myself off 'the bridge'. Acceptance and surrender are immense lessons to internalize (it is possible my struggle is greater than others'... I can barely imagine others being as petrified as I was that morning!).

How then, may we open our eyes to the truth that the walk may be shaky, but we are held in life's great hands, and thus protected by powers we are too small to comprehend? How then, may we open our eyes to the view so spectacular, the Beauty that lies before us in its supreme vastness? All that is needed is to let go. And yet, how very hard that is... despite the rewards that await us - not just at the other end, but along the journey as well.

Reaching Out

To offer a world hug...
and to get one :).

The 'Religion of Man'

I try to ensure that I get at least a half hour with Tagore every day. That half hour is enough, and in fact, more may overload me with ideas too beautiful to have to share mind space with one another, I feel. Today, however, just five minutes were more than I could take. I read this portion of My Life in My Words repeatedly, it touched me so. I share it with you before I commence a new, blessed day:

Marching with the waves of Life Eternal
we must go forward with Truth as our Polar Star
and no thought of death.
Inclement evil days will pour upon our heads,
but we must struggle on
to keep our Tryst with Him
at whose feet we poured the riches of our heart
from age to age.

The day which had its special significance for me came with all its drifting trivialities of the commonplace life. The ordinary work of my morning had come to its close, and before going to take my bath I stood for a moment at my window, overlooking a marketplace on the bank of a dry river bed, welcoming the first flood of rain along its channel. Suddenly I became conscious of a stirring of soul within me. My world of experience seemed to become lighted, and facts that were detached and dim found a great unity of meaning. The feeling which I had was like that which a man, groping through the fog without knowing his destination, might feel when he suddenly discovers that he stands before his house ...

In a similar manner, on that morning in the village, the facts of my life suddenly appeared to me in a luminous unity of truth. All things that had seemed like vagrant waves were revealed to my mind in relation to a boundless sea. I felt sure that some Being was comprehending me and my world was seeking his best expression in all my experiences, uniting them into an ever-widening individuality which is a spiritual work of art. To this Being I was responsible; for the creation in me is his as well as mine ...

I felt that I had found my religion at least, the Religion of Man, in which the infinite became defined in humanity and came close to me so as to need my love and cooperation.