hong kong. breakthrough.

from the get go don't get me wrong. hong kong is, if not the most, right up there on the list of most dynamic and vibrant and amazing places in the world. this pearl of the east can electrify you, dazzle you and rocket you straight out to deep space where planets and galaxies are being created and destructed nonstop as i type. i ask my aunt, where is the street where grandpa's laundromat was? she says, the street name is there but the street is no more. i say, what do you mean, i do know in hong kong we tear down and rebuild all the time but the whole street? she says, yeah, the whole street, even i don't recognize anything and it's still building and rebuilding. i'm not exaggerating when i say i can see a subway stop on every street. move over, starbucks. now, what am i getting at? o yes, people. so many people. people on the move. i have yet to see a person in hong kong that stands still for a moment. by the way, hwubby says, i have never seen so many fancy footwear. and they go about so fast i feel this background anxiety that someone would just stamp on my foot and just walk on. to the next sumptuous meal. to the next fancy shop. to the next deal. when the stop light turns green waves of people would roam into the street. several times i look around taking in these smart, on the move people and i recall these words from the poem breakthrough.


millions of lives ca be lived.
but for what purpose if there's no breakthrough

is my life all about making money? gathering fame? sucking attention? acquiring things? obviously i didn't feel so. or else i would not have left cause there's no better place on earth to make money. i mean m. o. n. e. y.

step back. he didn't ask for my help.

i get out of bed in pitch dark. hwubby is already up. i am giving him a morning kiss when i see that he is entering some data that i have done already the day before. it occurs to me that this is not necessary. i begin to show him the alternative pathway. some back and forth later i am standing next to his computer knee deep in helping him to figure out how to do a data transfer. well, of course i don't think i sound short and brusque. but there he is, saying, don't get impatient with me, i didn't ask for your help. wo. part of me is more than ready to snap back. then the essence of my guru's words take hold of my breath and thought.

the tests come in many forms.
sometimes they strike like lightning.
sometimes they are as sharp as a million needles.
and sometimes they come cloaked in absolute numbness.
what is needed at all times is full faith and surrender.


mentally i step back. i breathe in, a deep one. i say, i'm so sorry i got you so upset..

indeed. he is right. he didn't ask for my help. and i didn't keep my eye on the ball. as i gently return attention again and again to that elusive yet vast space between breaths i see an old tendency. easily get distracted and pulled out of the present.

make the life that i choose to live a worthy one

the day's meditation is wonderful. i come away from the meditation seat like the velvety night cosmos that is sprinkled with starry glitter. a galaxy of, for the lack of a less cliche word, inspirations, fill my breaths. i am so on track to writing. hoo. what is the first thing that catches my eye? papers at my doorstep. left by hwubby for me to deal with. medical claims to process asap, that are yet to be filled out properly. i quickly spot certain signature spots that are still empty. bah. that means they have to wait until hwubby's home from a long day of medical appointments. can't go into mail today. bummer. what else is there crowding my doorstep and crying to be taken care of. documents to review, that carry long term financial consequences. this task to follow up. that task to follow through. before long a major delivery arrives, signaling the onset of a huge project that has to be completed in the next twenty four hours. faster than i can let out a breath this heaviness comes over me. just like that all those delightful writing glitter recede fast into the neighborhood of those one hundred billion galaxies that gazillions of light years away from planet earth.

the phone rings. it's hwubby. after the brief phone call i quickly realize my voice and tone are short and brusque. as i make my breakfast of egg white and ghee i recall these words of my guru.

make the life that i choose to live a worthy one. it is a matter of great fortune to rejoice in life having once sacrificed it. life is not like an an abandoned fruit. yet it requires absolute sacrifice.

well, well, well, after eleven months of perseverance i have finally arrived at the finale verses of the poem breakthrough. i have earned the rights to relish the fruits of my effort. and what is 'sacrifice' but that effort that gets me come closer to god, to my own true nature. and i know enough after twenty years on the path that despondency and discouraged are not attributes of what i am made of. what is required at  such times, at all times, is full faith and surrender. and i decide this is exactly what i am going to do. i call hwubby. i say, i am so sorry i was short and brusque, maybe that clash between left and right brain throws me off. he is just so happy that i call, totally empathetic. what a sweet life i have. a-hah. the life i choose to live is sweet and juicy and flavorful.

breakthrough from awful fax episode.

millions of lives can be lived. but for what purpose if there's no breakthrough. so true. the wisdom humming in this garland of words have been in the forefront of my awareness as i observe silence this week. by the way, a big shout out to hwubby who wholeheartedly and unconditionally supports my doing so. thanks to emails we still get done what need to be taken care of. anyhow, no sooner than i emerge from sweet silence than i receive a phone call from a lawyer with whom we are going through litigation. in an angry and authoritative tone she says, you are faxing me one hundred twenty eight pages of nothing, stop it right now. the thing, i did attempt to fax her office this morning, seven am, a few hours prior to her call. but the fax didn't go through for some reason. in the heat of her moment, i check in with my higher self. i say, i'm sorry, i have no idea what happened. then i call the fax provider. after forty five minutes i am reassured again and again that no fax has gone out of my account today. the earlier attempt failed. while i am on the phone with the supervisor - yes, i already escalated the situation to a higher level - the same lawyer calls again. she cries, it is happening again, another one hundred and twenty-eight pages. i hear my voice staying even and i say, i'm so sorry what you're going through, i've been on the phone with the provider for forty-five minutes, no fax had gone out from my account today, they're trying to figure out what's going on. fair to say she doesn't hang up a happy camper. after another fifteen minutes and some long holds the fax provider says, ask her to shut off the fax machine for a moment. at this point, call me chicken or whatever, i get hold of hwubby who is up to his eyeballs in a deadline and give him a heads up of what's going on. hey, when it involves lawyers in this country i would err on the side of caution. what a great guy he is. hwubby says, let me call her and cancel this fax account right away. so i do. hwubby calls me and says, she gets on the phone, keeps saying i don't have time to talk to you, she would have spent less time taking in what i have to say than saying she has no time to talk to me, she's not going to shut off the fax machine and hangs up on me, so i call back and leave the info with her secretary.

so why am i rehashing all this? because millions of lives can be lived but for what purpose if there's no breakthrough? so what's my breakthrough here? i am stunned to see that the moment this lawyer says, you are faxing all these pages to me, i right away take it as my fault, that i have done something wrong. now that is such an old, old conditioning. once i see that nothing this lawyer says, or anything anybody says for that matter, kicks me off balance. is the situation awful? sure. do i have to do what i can to resolve this? you bet. but, at the end of the day, the activity log is not showing any pages transmitted from my account and she is not willing to turn off the fax for just a moment, what can i do? nothing. but you know what. i see myself sending her blessings. i wish her at peace with her self, with the fax machine.

breakthrough. shubh mahasamadhi.

for several months clara, my spiritual study partner, and i really didn't quite see how we could fulfill the goal of memorizing breakthrough, a four page poem by the end of 2011. for a start, hwubby was hit by a taxi on 1/8/2011. i was zigzagging across the country for a bit. then something else in clara's professional life. then this. then that. if it was not one thing, it was another. i think we didn't have our weekly study session for a couple of months. in the months we could meet, we had to skip this week and that week. i have to confess it has occurred to me more than once that since all things inevitably end maybe this is one of those given we have had a good run of four years. that said i never give up. neither does clara. we seize whatever session we manage to make happen. we stick with our plan. and then there are some verses that the mind has a hard time to wrap around, like,

everything that happened
begot the self-denial
which led to the knowledge of the self.


all that said. and now, here we are. one week before the mahasamadhi shaktipat intensive in honor of our grand-guru's physical passing, we find ourselves in the last two lines of the poem.

then life knows what you are.
and you know what life is.


i say to clara, this is dessert.

in the last couple of days two lines in the previous verse keep rising in the mental horizon.

the most exquisite of all breakthroughs
is to pass beyond the death zone of your ignorance.


yes, indeed. all those thoughts that say to the effect of i can't finish this, there's no way i can't do it, i just don't see how this can turn out fine, are really death thoughts. they are ghosts cloaked in veil of separateness. so long as i am anchored in my own true nature and hold the understanding that the guru is none other than my innermost and highest self i can see life in completely different lights. really, life is that which gets me closer to god. and that is what sacrifice is all about. coming close to. to the degree that i am willing to come close to being my great self the wave of grace takes me across the seemingly uncrossable stormy sea of life.

a moment of life well lived.

millions of lives can be lived. but for what purpose if there's no breakthrough? break what through? break through what? what is breakthrough? really. eight days into the high holy days i realize every stronger than before that all i want is to simply stay anchored in my own true nature. there's only one question to ask if i had to make a choice about something. does this take me closer to what i am? or missing the mark?

for instance, yesterday i was scrolling down the long list of email subject lines trying to look for a particular one when something catches my eye. someone in the congregation is recovering from surgery and she would appreciate calls or emails since she can't be at the high holiday services. all at once an explosion of competing forces jams my attention. no, no, no, you have so many things to do, you are behind, you don't really know this person, she won't even know who is sending her the email, don't embarrass yourself. i can't deny that there is a kernel of truth in all this jumbo mumbo of thoughts. i am running behind and the task list keeps growing. so i 'stay focused', finds what i am looking for and proceed to move forward on that task. there's nothing wrong with that. yet something keeps tugging me. a soft little voice. thirty second email. just do it. after a few rounds i get it. i am just caught up in residual tendency. my heart simply wants to sends a wellness blessing. that's all. it's the ego who is concerned about whether that person actually remembers me or not, or whether she values my blessing or not. before i know it, i feel this surge of willpower from deep within. i break through the grip of mental conditioning, glide into my heart and send forth a simple yet abundant blessing. it feels so right on the mark. it feels a moment of life well lived.

happy jewish new year. sweetness.

happy jewish new year. l'shana tova. may this year continue to bring abundant sweetness to everyone's hearts. may this sweetness flow out into the universe. may we have the courage, clarity to experience the sweetness manifested in the universe in infinite ways. may we have the eye to see the sweetness streaming our way and receive it with an open heart and mind.

my rabbi says, high holidays is the time for incredible transformation if you choose to put in the spiritual efforts. sweet efforts that will bear sweet fruit. question. what is something good in my life this past year? i close my eyes, aloft in the hauntingly beautiful traditional melody. what do i see? hwubby hit by a taxi. really. seriously. what a jolt. it kicks out all mental chatter and anchor me in the present moment. i realize how much i love him and he me. next to a thunderous lightning such as this all other noises pale. i share this with the person next to me. she says, yeah, you see what's really important.

as i type this i recall my guru's words.
the tests come in many forms.
sometimes they strike like lightning.


indeed. some mental tendencies are like bamboo roots. extremely difficult to completely root out on my own. sometimes it does take the sword of lightning grace to go at it. then the sweetness of my own true nature can break through and shine.

a massive stroke of grace

a life without grace bears no fruit.
millions of lives can be lived.
but for what purpose 
if there's no breakthrough?
what a mindstopper. and these words of wisdom are hard to chew on. for several days i've been meditating on them. they are illumining certain old tendencies. how about this one? that gnawing, lingering unpleasant feeling goes like this. what am i doing this for? is this what my life's about? i recall so many times in my life when by all conventional measures i should be happy and proud of myself and feel abundant and great and blah blah blah. but deep down i know i am not experiencing any of that. i couldn't make sense of it. it drives me nuts. it was frightening to even entertain the possibility that whatever i can achieve and get outside of me is not going to answer my burning questions once and for all. it was beyond the mind to conceive that there's no one who can grant me lasting happiness. really, where would i be if it were not for a massive stroke of grace that breaks through the concrete cage of fear and anguish that i found myself locked in. hey, who cares if i had lived millions of lives adrift. i am back on course in this one and that's all that counts.

come close to. sacrifice.

'life is not like an abandoned fruit. yet it requires absolute sacrifice.'

wow. these two lines from the poem 'breakthrough' snaps the mind into a blank. what to make of it? how to approach the timeless and timely wisdom within the garland of words? the first question that comes to mind is this. what does 'sacrifice' mean? that sets in motion a train of contemplation. this word has really a lot of baggage. all have to do with giving up something near and dear to the heart desires. it has a flavor profile of suffering and misery. even death. then it occurs to me a simple idea. go back to the basic of basics. what does this word mean? where does this word come from?

so over shabbos meal i ask my rabbi, what does the hebrew word that got translated into 'sacrifice' mean? he says, kor'baan. typing it out doesn't do the word justice. it sounds so pure and beautiful. there's a metallic timbre to it. almost like a ringing bell. rabbi says, but it has nothing to do with all that is now commonly associated with the word 'sacrifice.' he pauses momentarily. i wait with an open heart and mind and mouth. he says, it means 'come close to.'

there i have it. that which gets me close to god, close to my own true nature. if it means letting go of things that the ego holds dear and the world deem indispensable, so be it.

qualities of my own true nature

subtle breakthrough. about half a day into the meditation retreat i notice something. i don't think i would have if the mind is not so quiet and the body so relaxed. and it's actually the absence of a dug-in tendency. the melancholy that the retreat will come to an end. i am amazed beyond word and measure as i watch how the body is calm and poised. throughout the two days i notice the restlessness and soreness that usually start gnawing at the joints and legs after a few meditation sessions are simply not there. the inner sky is by and large clear and sunny. every now and then i notice thoughts and emotions that are like cotton-candy clouds. as i type this i don't even recall what they are about. doesn't matter. i just return attention to the nice and natural flow of the breath and the divine song within it. before i know it i am not even aware of those mental clouds.

where am i? yes, the breakthrough. i realize i am more anchored in the understanding that this quiet mind and relaxed body are the qualities of my own true nature. all that i revel so much in the retreat are to guide me to connect deeper with what i already have, to cultivate the awareness that i am not this thought, not that memory. my happiness only depends on how connected i am to my great self. here's the kick. when i am consciously connected to my great self i can see how much joy there is in my life. what about this one? hwubby. last night he walks through the door in his bike helmet and waves of bliss overcome me. he really brings yummy joy to my heart. and if i am all caught up in anxiety and anguish that there's no retreat the next day i wouldn't be able to taste it so good.

entrenched attachment to a warm bed

breakthrough this night. mind coming out of a nice dream which dissipates moments upon awake. body relaxed and still. a soundless voice appears. without words it is the distillation of why it's such a seemingly endless struggle to get up before early. i see my childhood and teenage years, all the way into young adulthood, encapsulated in one image. sleeping on coarse, cold concrete. walls are pieces of aluminum sloppily held together with holes everywhere. no roof. just another piece of odd shaped aluminum precariously sitting on some thin wood bars. mice scratch wood and aluminum, whatever they could lay their sharp claws on. cockroaches and centipedes roam like they are in the wild. come to think of it i was hospitalized for a week because of a poisonous bite from a centipede in a ear. the child can't wait to get up out of fear, anxiety and over-the-top worry. and so it strikes me crystal clear. of course there is an entrenched attachment of a warm, comfy bed in a safe and quiet place. in fact, that week in the hospital was the happiest days of my childhood. i had my own bed. night nurse fed me milk and cookie. anyway the body is not of a child anymore. but the trauma is lodged in the firmament of being.

so how come i have no trouble getting up super early for retreats? because the allure of immersing in the sublime inner peace and security is irresistible. it's the real thing. it overrides the mental circuitry. but for the allure to become permanent it takes sustained spiritual work over a long period of time with full faith and surrender. and so i get out of bed very encouraged. it's just another residual tendency. i am the supreme, sublime self and that's that. i sit for an hour in the sweetness of the self. i have a deep sense that something heavy has been lifted. i feel that much lighter. if i didn't have things to take care of i could just sit and sit and sit.

i see the door frame. i see the sword.

this week so far has been one big test. in one form. here's how it goes down. on the dot at three, or four, or somewhere in between, i stumble out of sleep. the mind is awake. the body is totally still. nothing wrong so far, right? but i can't find an iota of will to summon the body to move. not even wiggle the pinkie. it has taken me two days, almost three, to admit this openly. since monday the heart flutters periodically. thoughts, feelings and emotions associated with, what else, fear and worry, come through. yes, i can tie one reason or another to each and every one of them. but none of them stick. they come and go like foam and froth in the ocean. this night, as i huddle myself in hwubby's warm embrace and he is trying so hard to listen to me even though he is barely awake it dawns on me this. i am looking at naked fear itself. worry is fear's first cousin. so is regret. there was a time, a long time, when i would get sucked into a panic mode or angry and end up creating a mess which i had to clean up. on the pragmatic level it's a huge waste of time, energy and resources. on the spiritual level does it take me closer to my own true nature? yes, if i could see it for what it was and let it go. but, no, when i took it for what i was. nonetheless those experiences have now become benchmarks as i walk the path of exploring my own true nature. i see that i am not sucked into these mental turmoils so quick like before. i look at them and i know they don't add to nor diminish the inner self.

this is the second week i am studying this verse in breakthrough.

what was needed at all times
was full faith and surrender.
if the door frame is low
then bend your head and walk through it.
if a sword is brandished before you
then lower your head; otherwise misfortune will result.

looks like i am able to see the low door frame, i can see the brandishing sword. 
i say that's progress, suk wah.

they are all for one purpose

just when i am commending myself profusely for memorizing the poem breakthrough so very well all this week, boom, i discover i have missed out a whole verse. only three lines. but, boy, do they pack  punches.

everything that happened
begot the self-denial
which led to the knowledge of the Self.

what is self-denial? this much i know. whatever it is, it leads me to knowing my own true nature. the key, then, is understanding. whatever happens and doesn't happen, whatever i have to do and say no to, they are all for one purpose, exploring who i am, what i am here for. otherwise i will be sucked into the vortex of drama. what then will happen? check this out.

if the doorframe is low
then bend your head and walk through it.
if the sword is brandished before you,
lower your head; otherwise misfortune will result.

even tripping up is grace.

no two meditations are the same. this much i know. but i don't know it can be this dramatic from one day to the next. yesterday was all sweet peace. here's how this morning goes. in the beginning it all seems to go as i have been doing the action sequence day in and day out. look. i get up, have my drink of chlorophyll, aloe, a little apple juice and psyllium, poop, - i cannot overstate what a huge difference pooping before meditation makes to the quality of meditation, but i'd better get back to the real drama of the day before i get carried away with pooping - where am i? o, right, then i wash the mouth and teeth and face. some gentle stretches. bow to four directions. bow to my meditation seat. so far, nothing is off track. yet somewhere around i put the earplugs and eyewraps in place i begin to sense something is off within. a little bit. very subtle. it's like the camera lens is slightly, very slightly, out of focus. so slightly that i just dismiss it.

i proceed to rigorously rub my hands to give a little tai chi bath to the eyes, face, head, neck and chest. as i am about to begin reciting 'a thousand mirrors,' the poem that i have been letting off my lips daily for one and a half years i hear a tiny whisper. you'll trip. i thought i knew what it meant. i'll trip over the poem 'breakthrough' which i am about halfway through memorizing. but as i type this now i realize that is the beginning of me getting out of the present moment. the onset of getting off center.

anyway words stream out of me swimmingly. in another corner of the mind the worry that i'll forget some part of 'breakthrough' loops like a stuck record. not loud. but enough to suck my attention out of the present moment. until suddenly i realize words stop flowing out of the vocal cord like a river's flow is obstructed by an unexpected boulder. my attention goes into shock. panic jams awareness. disbelief shakes up the mind. thought waves strike. negative thoughts. heavy thoughts. this can't be. it's impossible. so i try to gather myself, squeeze the scattered attention into the line. 'the reality of my existence is...is...is...' what is the word after 'is?' nothing comes. the brain jumps up and down and all around inside the skull. banggg. wangg. nothing comes. after a while and i don't know how long in terms of the linear passing of time i drag myself to the next verse. obviously i am still not totally in the present. because after 'each mirror was broken into thousands of fragments' i go right back to 'the reality of my existence is...' i struggle some more and go nowhere but round and round like a scared mouse. meanwhile negative emotions take this opportunity and make their appearance. discouraged is the main one. and exasperated too. i won't go into their extended family.

i begin to notice the breath is out of whack. so i do the only thing i know how to do in such dire circumstance. i turn attention to the breath. in a few rounds i watch the edginess in the breathing movement smooth out. then i hear this. relax. i take a deep breath in, a long breath out. a couple of more rounds later, conviction arises from deep within. i can't recall whether it comes with the inbreath or the outbreath. doesn't matter. they all come from the same place. anyway the message i get is this. i haven't forgotten the poem. really, i haven't. why would i even doubt that. scrap it.

with that i see what i need to do. move on to the next verse. and so i do. as i let the rest of 'a thousand mirrors' flow out of me i feel a refreshed, renewed resonance. 'destruction took its time. while grace was penetrating deeply i said to myself, people say grace is a shelter, why, then, am i losing all i have?'
indeed. 'all the reflections are grace. all the mirrors are grace. grace had revealed that everything is grace.' yes, even tripping up like this is grace.

as i step off the meditation mat i hear the inner self say, write with one voice.  'the power of grace takes me across,' ain't it the truth. ain't it the truth.

breath-in-chief.

don't want to come out of meditation. seriously. this is my meditation experience of the day. the body and mind, particularly the body, are immersed in this sweet and pure peace that hums with vibrancy. today the legs have hit the sweet spot. they don't go numb on me like they usually do after forty-five minutes or so. and the breath. o me o my. the breath. i really have the experience my conscious efforts have nothing to do with the ever deepening of the inbreaths and lengthening of the outbreaths. as i type this sentence i can feel this subtle shift in the breathing movement like a master noodle maker deftly pulling the dough between his skillful hands. i am mesmerized. this inner self of mine is truly the breath-in-chief.

back to this morning's meditation. while i am reciting the poems 'a thousand mirrors' and 'breakthrough' i notice, for several times, i emerge from a place beyond words, where there is no sense of time. but i don't catch myself pausing amidst recitation. yet i simply know where to pick up from where i left. the words just arise from this quiet place within. this quiet, fascinating place, my own self.

just like that, two hours have flown by when i step off the meditation mat.

birthday gift in form of violence

it is my birthday and who knew what shape, color and tone a birthday gift would take and from where it strikes? a violent assault. here's the story. hwubby arranges for us to go to chinatown to have birthday dim sum. he has thought it through. he has to go to san francisco for business and he wants to spend as much birthday time with me as possible. so he decides to take along his bike while we take the bus to chinatown. everything is fine. we have a lovely and sweet conversation while waiting for the bus. it comes. hwubby sets the bike the way he always does. the way every biker always does. on the rack in front of the bus. i get on the bus first. which seat should i take? front? or back? back seats are more elevated. has a little wider, more open view. so i go to the back seat. hwubby pays. we continue our sweet exchange. i barely pay attention to when the bus stops and restarts at the familiar stops. after all this is the bus that i take to chinatown. now i don't recall whether i or hwubby catches this first. as i blog all i know is this. i realize a guy, a bearded guy, is trying to remove hwubby's bike. i am in disbelief for a moment while hwubby is already sprinting forward. i start to yell, stop him, he's stealing my husband's bike. while hwubby is jumping off the bus the guy is already on the bike. i get up and run out of the bus and run and towards this guy. out of the corner of my eyes i see several people gather at the far corner of the block. the guy is across the street going towards the far corner. i am on this side of  the street, running and screaming at the top of lungs, he's stealing my husband's bike. hwubby is running after him, losing out further and further as this guy turns the corner, passes the cluster of people at the far corner and disappears out of my view.

this all happens eleven in the morning. on my birthday. i am still rattled and unsettled. i gather all the will and strength i can pull together. i meditate. i see the rudram, the vedic hymn praising lord rudra, beside the bed. i sit down and chant it. very soon i get the inner message. do a rudram saptah. midway through i hear this message. deal with things as they are. i know what it means. the video of what happens auto-replays in the mind along with questions of what if, should have, how come those people just stand by and watch all this, if only i didn't...

i struggle out of bed, have a sip of cooling coconut water. these lines from the poem 'breakthrough' comes to mind. 'resistance, lack of understanding, and the inability to surrender created one wave after another. i was struck by each wave and washed clean.' yes, it feels like that, being struck by a towering wave. so i suppose i am in the process of being washed clean. i have no idea yet what it is being cleansed out of me. whatever it is, may the power of grace grant me the strength and resolve to go through what i need to go through.

and then there are these two lines right after the previous lines referenced above. 'each successive breakthrough came at the peak of intense tapasya. and it was also the fruit of that austerity.'

is this the peak yet? i don't know. has the fruit been borne and ripened? no idea. to be continued.

mindstopper. mindfiller.

on the way to doing practices in shivaa's house shri says, can you share with me something from the poem 'breakthrough?' you bet. so i recite it up to where i am working on. something astonishing happens. i realize, after i finish, that i have completely forgotten one particular verse. why? what happens within me? gazing into the low hanging, dark gray clouds that forcast thundershowers at least i know it has to do with what this verse is talking about. all that which create one wave after another and they strike me and wash me clean. i say to shri, what do you think is the difference between 'resistance' and 'the inability to surrender?' after a momentary pause shri says, this is a mindstopper. bingo. voila. she nails it. these words, pregnant with the master's intention, have the power to stop the mindfillers, all that which take me out of the present moment, disconnect me from being in the joy and love of the inner self. at the end of the day whatever the contents of the mental clouds are they have nothing to do with my own true nature. they may be thundershowers, even thunderstorms. they come. and they go. it's just a matter of time that they will go. unless i hold onto them.

and so it is i immerse myself into the chanting and meditation with fellow yogis. by the time we sing aum all this fantastic electricity spark within me as the choir of sound and resonance strike me and wash me clean.

i emerge hungry, all ready for shivaa's sublime food. i can't have enough of her new creation. check this out. scoop a nice mound of her spring salad of pea shoots, mango, cabbage and carrots, sprinkled with roasted sesame and lemon verbena onto fresh lettuce leaves direct from her veggie garden. generously dollop balinese peanut butter sauce. wrap it up. take a bite. an explosion of freshness and aliveness. this is juicy and crisp love in a wrapper. for soup she puts together adjuki bean, butternut squash, coconut milk and dried mushroom. it's nourishing beyond measure. i have two big bowls.

i have to confess i am not a big fan of rhubarb and i don't eat honey that has been cooked. so very reluctantly i have to almost pass on the gluten-free rhubarb, strawberry dessert. but it looks so good, like, to die for. i say 'almost' because i can't help but have a little bit with vanilla cream. what can i say. to die for, almost:)

train is not destination

there i am reciting the first verse of the poem 'breakthrough.' it goes smoothly without a hitch. sound flows out of the windpipe and through the lips effortlessly. then something happens. the last word of the verse emerges and subsides. silence reigns. a space before and beyond words. i watch my awareness suspended in this utterly anxiety-free state. at the same time i notice a thought drift through the mental horizon. shouldn't i be worried about forgetting the words, losing my mind? the thought drifts in and soon drifts out. i don't feel any urge to follow it, act on it or even think more thought about it. i just let it come and go on its own. a little while goes by. the first word of the second verse of the poem comes to me. and the second word. and the first line. and i just get on with it. there was a long time when i am all worked up about what should i do if i lose the mantra during meditation, what will happen if i lose track of the meditation instruction...blah blah blah.

it's kind of like this. i want to go a certain place by train. i get the ticket, pack up, hop on the train, find a seat, sit through the train ride. as the train moves closer to where i want to go i don't want to get off the train. well, the train is what takes me to the destination. the train is not the destination. thank the train for taking me there. move on.

the fear of losing myself gone

in 2010 i memorized one of my guru's poems, 'a thousand mirrors.' i love it so much that this year i'm doing another one, 'breakthrough.' here's how much i love it. every morning, i enter my meditation closet, sit down on my meditation mat, arrange the body into an upright, supported and comfortable posture, close my eyes, start gathering attention to the sound and flow of the easy breath. and then i recite 'a thousand mirrors' and 'breakthrough,' up to the verse that i'm currently memorizing.

this morning, something strange and spectacular happens. a few verses into 'a thousand mirrors' i watch the flow of words from my vocal cord disappear. just like that i am in a space and state that is beyond the linear passage of time, beyond words, beyond action. it is within my awareness and it is holding all that were, all that are and all that will be. the closest approximation that comes to me, as i type this, is deep outer space and beyond where the births and deaths of planets, stars and galaxies happen. billions upon billions of them. after i don't know how long in terms of seconds and minutes the flow of words resume in a natural manner. after another few verses again the word flow gently comes to a pause and i find myself in that realm of beautiful quiet and sweet stillness. by the time i stand up from the mat two hours have gone by.

now here's another fantastic thing. i don't feel fear. the fear of losing myself. not a trace. really, if that is where i'll dwell and how i'll live what's to be afraid of.

another thing i notice is this. the poem flows out of me effortlessly. i have no doubt i own it. that which my guru transmits to me through the river of words belongs to me. the truth of the matter is i have it all along. she is showing me what i already am. such is the power of grace.

fear, anger, frustration are great stuff.

here's an exciting breakthrough. there i am reading when out of nowhere a surge of intense emotions arise. what are they? in the moment of the tsunami, i can't tell. but as an afterthought, as i look back, it's a probably a bundle of impatience, frustration, anguish, blah blah blah all mushed up. what triggers it? what is it about? this is where the fruit of my spiritual efforts lift me up and beyond. instead of diving headlong into the contents of the emotions a swell of spiritual will pulls my attention into the movement of the breath. breathe in deep. breathe out even longer. after a little while i notice the tightness in the diaphragm area begin to loosen up a little bit. then i discover something familiar. a throbbing sensation. it pervades my whole being but it is evident that the epicenter is in the fingertips and hands. in fact the fingertips feel like warm water balloons and they are gently bouncing in the ocean of awareness. that immediately reminds me of something. a recurring meditation experience. my fingertips and hands pulse, filled with strong energy currents. by now i already lose sight of all that intense emotions that set off this whole episode. i am so thrilled. this is what the scriptures talk about, what my guru talks about, again and again. the essence of everything in the inner world is energy that flows forth from pure consciousness. that's why the teaching says strong emotions such as fear and anger are great opportunities to take us back to my own true nature. when we have the right understanding, of course. kind of like a life. in the surgeon's hands it can save lives. in the hands of a thug, it kills. great stuff, isn't it.