backbone of my life

from collection of pujari outfit

i love my daily meditation practice. it is the backbone of my life. i structure my daily schedule around my meditation practice, wouldn’t want to live any other way.

in the shifting sands of life my meditation practice is my anchor.

again and again, deep in meditation i experience profound contentment, happiness, strength and so much more.

over time i find it easier and easier to go about what i have to do in the world while being aware of my innate calm, clarity and certainty.

little by little, i become more and more immersed in this understanding, that when i sit down to meditate with the intention to meditate, then whatever happens is meditation. on some days meditation can be choppy, stormy, whatever. at other times i experience enchanting lights, luminous insights, illuminating visions, or.... nothing. to be accurate, it's beautiful silence shimmering quiet bliss, deep contentment and rock solid recognition of my own strength. coming out of meditation, it never ceases to amaze me, day after day, how fortunate i am to be able to sit for 2 hours quietly. i notice that the understanding is ever fresh, ever full and fragrant.

 i enjoy looking for ways to further strengthen my meditation practice in the same way i fertilize the gorgeous roses in my garden periodically. given california is still in drought i have to be mindful of using water. it's astonishing to see what a bit of weekly soaker-hosing can do to roses. it's astonishing to see how little they need to keep blooming. every week i have more than enough vibrant blooms to put on arati trays and altar.

arati tray

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.

my inner self is like a crystal vase

my teacher says something to this effect, no matter how much one describes love, one can't fully convey the experience of love. this is how i feel about describing my meditation experience. for a start i can't even say by what means i arrive at this exquisitely quiet place. is it diving? plunging? rising? gliding? how do i explain a place that is dark and bright all at once? on one hand i am aware of the body with all its contours and limits. on another hand i am definitely in a place that has no horizons as far as i can see. the place is wide open. yet it feels full as well as spacious. the silence is sublime. a steady throb subtly reverberates. it's the vibration of strength, the resonance of courage, the wavelength of pure joy, the frequency of supreme fulfillment. and then they blend into a harmonic sound of gratitude. yes. i come out of formal sitting meditation and this thankfulness keeps on bubbling within. how fortunate i am to be able to be with this treasure within. i walk into the kitchen and a surprise wonder. morning lights are choreographing a magnificent dance off the grand crystal vase on the table by the window. my inner self is sort of like a super grand crystal vase emanating these beautiful lights that shine through me.

sacred bath ritual

i didn't meditate this morning. what happened? because i was in the ashram temple at 4 for a sacred bath ritual. to do that i had to get up and get going at 3.

as i wait outside the temple before the temple is open i take it all in. the silence is deep and beautiful. the light is low. through the glasses in the double doors i watch a beehive of activity inside. an army of sari clad beautiful women of all ages, and some men, strong and dedicated in indian outfits or suits, doing a whole range of tasks. nothing is too small to pay full attention to. stacks of trays of small cups of fresh fruit salad to be gifted to all the participants. garlands and bouquets of fresh flowers. piles of folded blankets to keep everybody warm. special chanting books for the occasion. under dim lighting and from the distance i see people doing seating, putting out lines of chairs and blanket squares to make sure as many people as possible can be seated comfortably in an orderly and easeful manner. audio equipment are set up. permeating in the atmosphere is the exquisite fragrance of devotion, experience and focus blended in perfect balance.

time and time again throughout the vedic prayers i lose grasp of the sanskrit syllables and find myself plunged into depths below the ocean of sound. there, time is not linear. we are not separate individuals. it is the experience of being and being one. when i emerge from this formless, timeless consciousness i am right back into the sacred sound ocean.

no sooner than the ritual is completed it begins to drizzle gently. in vedic beliefs this is a sign that nature, the universe, heaven and the deities are pleased with what we are offering. as i revel in the soothing sound of raindrops caressing the tarp scaffolding over us i am wrapped in this sense of bright and luminous gratitude.

i didn't sit down formally for meditation but i meditated as deep as can be in the presence of all these dedicated and selfless yogis.

there's no place i'd rather be on tuesdays.

several times today i drop out of aum-ing and into the inner world of exquisite silence. i see no outer edges, no bottom. there's the feeling that i can go as deep and high as i can into the source of joy within. by the time i utter the last round of aum my awareness is thoroughly reveling in the tenderly sweet movement and sound of the easy breath.

without a doubt i know this is the spillover effect from doing the practices with my spiritual buddies last evening. there we were sitting in the comforts of shivaa's divine house anad chanting the sacred text from vedas, the same scripture that prince siddhartha heard the brahmins chanting in the palace. every syllable throbs powerfully with pure kindness in my entire being. there's phenomenal alchemy in chanting holy text with dedicated yogis. the collective power of pure intention helps me to connect a little stronger with the supreme self which is no different from my inner self. riding on the waves of sublime resonance that transcends the linear passage of time the self of me and the buddha are one.

the spread of food that shivaa prepared was yummy scriptures. the salad, with greens all from her garden, enhanced all that holy power we gathered from the chant prior. with a touch of fennel, arugula, mango chunks, roasted cashew and golden raisins, my stomach is full and light all at once. i'm like, hey, i can meditate and chant all night, let's go. she made this super-duper spring soup out of shittake broth throwing in fresh corn, finely shredded carrot, rice and turmeric. my soul is nourished and afloat in golden glory. and what about the cilantro pecan dip? what a delightful surprise to the palate. the flavor profile sweeps from clean, refreshing to rich, nutty. i love it. it really got me going for the meditation and chants to come.

last, but not the least, we were amidst shivaa's 200 wildly blooming roses. paradise out there somewhere? nope. it's right here.

i am truly fortunate to be in such marvelous company. there's no place i'd rather be on tuesdays.

ice cream and meditation

let this simple mind connect the dots between ice cream and meditation.

having ice cream is a pleasure. i wouldn't go so far as to say it's a guarantee but it would not be way off to say it's enjoyable for most people. what happens when i see, say, haagen daz vanilla cream? the mind says, i want it. what happens when i put a nice spoonful into the mouth? hmmm. soft. sweet. smooth. cool. a desire is fulfilled. the mind quiets down. and the light of the inner self shines through the silence. in that brief while, i experience pure bliss. not for long. another thought appears in the mind. i want more. here's the thing. more of what? for so long in my life i reach outward for more ice cream. now i know better. the bliss is from within. not from ice cream.

i really shouldn't take credit for this. i first heard this nineteen years ago. but i don't get it until i have a meditation practice in place. hey, never too late.

really, the desire for ice cream is a veiled expression of the longing to reach for the inner self.