Metta and the Celestine Prophecy…

Recently, I finished the novel, ‘The Celestine prophecy’ by James Redfield. A dear friend of mine recommended it, and once I began the book, I couldn’t put it down. The book is written in first person about the spiritual seeker who goes on this journey to discover nine key insights written about in an ancient manuscript found in Peru. In the vein of ‘The Alchemist’, it is not about knowing what the insights are, but direct experience of them that transforms our narrator. As I started to talk to other friends about the book, I discovered that this book was huge when it was published. But that was in the mid 90s when I was about 15! No wonder I had missed this book.

De focused path on sunset natural bokeh background

Rather than telling you about the insights, I can say this: much of what James Redfield writes about is very relatable right now. He writes about energy flow in the universe and how we can connect to the source of this energy, and how the interplay of energies works in relationships.

What I found so interesting is how much this connects to the practice of metta. When we begin metta, it is very much about sending well-wishes to our benefactors, ourselves and close ones. And then we slowly expand our circle to include neutral people in our lives and then the difficult people in our lives who are harder for us to send metta to. The ultimate metta goal, if there is one, is to be able to wish all beings well, to send wishes for happiness, peace, love and friendship to everyone unconditionally. And to notice as we do so, that we too are receiving the gifts of metta. Several buddhist texts talk about the benefits to the person practicing metta. Theravadan Buddhist monk Bhante Gunaratana outlines the ways meditation can benefit our mind and our body in this Tricycle article. The list includes peaceful sleep and a radiant and joyful complexion! In a talk given by Ajahn Achalo on Insight timer, he talks about the confidence that practicing metta can bring us!

The practice of metta changed the course of my practice and my life; it is definitely for me the centering practice. When I am off balance, I know it is a sign to return to metta. And as a math teacher, it provides a wonderful opportunity for me to practice going beyond each student’s strengths and weaknesses to wishing every student well, no matter their ability or their personality.

Interestingly, what I have also found is that the more I practice metta, or stay connected to love and friendliness, the more energy there is to give others. It feels more natural to respond to desires and needs of others without draining myself out. Obviously I am not an enlightened being and I have my own issues, but these too are more manageable with practicing metta and karuna (compassion) towards myself and my family.

I also found it interesting that the writer talks about how more and more beings are drawn to this path; I certainly found that when I was at Kripalu a couple of weeks ago, there were so many many more people coming for retreats than there were about 15 years ago when I went to Kripalu for the first time! The sangha that I have been part of locally for the last decade or so has also grown tremendously in the recent years!

If you haven’t read this book or it has been a while, I hope you will go to your local library and grab a copy. I leave you with this poem Love of God, by Dante that directly resonates with this topic:

The love of God, unutterable and perfect,
     flows into a pure soul the way that light
     rushes into a transparent object.
The more love that it finds, the more it gives
     itself; so that, as we grow clear and open,
     the more complete the joy of heaven is.
And the more souls who resonate together,
     the greater the intensity of their love,
     and, mirror-like, each soul reflects the other.

-English version by Stephen Mitchell.

Namaste, S.

The joy of the hummingbird…

A couple of days ago, we saw a hummingbird! I just happened to look outside through our porch door and there was this tiny bird just hovering over the blossoms. I felt a shiver of happiness at having caught such a fleeting moment of beauty. In Ted Andrews’ book, Animal Speak, hummingbird represents hope and joy. So of course the next day, I took Anji to the gardeners store to get a hummingbird feeder. Talk about attachment! Of course I wanted more of that joy!

While we were at the store, the person at the counter, this very helpful and cheerful man told us that every spring lots of hummingbirds visited the green house behind for the amazing flowers. So you can guess where we went next!

Even though it is not spring but summer, we set out to see all of the plants they have. I had no idea the store was so big! We walked first to see the sun and then the shade annuals. Then we saw the shade perennials, these incredible varieties of Hostas. We ended with a tour of the sun perennials – beautiful hydrageneas, rose bushes, lilac bushes etc. As we walked, the sun so pleasant on our faces, feeling so relaxed and peaceful, Anjali holding my hand as she pointed out various facts she observed, I felt a tremendous sense of contentment at having taken this detour. How luxurious it felt in that moment to take the time to just be, to be spontaneous, follow our desires, not have to rush and be able to enjoy the beauty.

Tonight, as I reminisced about the garden with Anji, she pointed out wisely: Mom don’t worry, the hummingbirds will come for the nectar you put out. Even if it doesn’t happen right away, they will surely come.

Fingers-crossed!

Namaste, S.

Our visit to the Bridge of Flowers…

Full Moon, Fish and Bird…

For a while in my life, Rumi poetry was part of the fiber of my being. I read a lot of his poems, and some of my close friends know that I have made some significant life decisions inspired by Rumi. Then, for a while, I took a Rumi break. I think I needed it, to be able to let go of my experiences of the poems and see them anew. That is one of the reasons I am so happy and excited to be back in Rumi-sphere again. So much thanks to Coleman Barks and to Mary Oliver (who read Rumi until her last days…a beautiful essay of her life here).

Today’s poem, from a year with Rumi, so apt for this full Moon, has this beautiful passage:

I am a fish. You are the moon.

You cannot touch me, but your light

fills the ocean where I live.

Rumi (translated by Coleman Barks)

I was inspired to write a verse in response to Rumi.

I am a fish. You are the moon.

Every one of your moon beams

has transformed me from within

so that I am a fish no more.

Instead I am a bird flying high

in the wide open sky

to be closer to you.

Shuba (with a bow to Rumi)
Photo by Frank Cone on Pexels.com

I am leaving you with this. I didn’t think Rumi would mind. What do you think?

Namaste, S.

Deep Purple Delight, a verse and more…

Last night, inspired by my teacher’s challenge, I was moved to write this short poem about Anjali:

Deep Purple Delight

In her purple-rimmed glasses,

and her deep lilac pullover,

She looks at me, her face shining pink:

Abounding in laughter,

bursting with delight,

Her whole being is alight with joy!

In that moment,

my breath catches, and my heart softens,

as I gaze in marvel at this radiant being of light!

Photo by SplitShire on Pexels.com

Imagine my surprise as I turned to today’s poem in my copy of ‘A Year with Rumi’ and saw the poem titled: ‘Who says words with my mouth’. It made me laugh. Here are a couple of lines from the end of the poem.

This poetry. I never know what I’m going to say.

I don’t plan it. When I’m outside the saying of it,

I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.

Rumi (translated by Coleman Barks)

How apropos! I had written the poem after my nightly-ish meditation.

So, there it is: this quiet that is always there within us, waiting. Before or after the words. Just waiting for us to sit and wait in return. That is the marvel of the practice of returning home. Watching the breath, listening to the sounds, witnessing the thoughts, cultivating the love. Do you feel it? This beckoning of the silence from which the words spring? We just show up over and over again.

So, I return to my deep purple delight. May yours be filled with light!

Namaste, S.

That is the marvel of the practice of returning home. Watching the breath, listening to the sounds, witnessing the thoughts, cultivating the love.

Yogi in training…

It is my daughter Anjali’s eighth summer on this planet. She is growing and thriving and I am…well, I am rediscovering myself. I am less needed by my daughter, and freer to open up space within myself. I am also needed in a different way, and navigating the balance between boundaries and freedom. So, here I am. And here you are. Supporting me on this journey of love, creativity, transformation, discovery and ultimately freedom! Welcome if you are new to my writing, and welcome again if you are a beloved friend, and thank you!

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My daughter Anjali and I spent this past weekend at Kripalu center for yoga, she in a yogi arts program and I chose a program called dance into joy! My husband had been away the past week and it seemed like a perfect thing to do together. She is old enough to appreciate and practice yoga on her own and I was excited to revisit an old beloved place of retreat. 

Here is a question for you to ponder: Can it be a retreat when you are with your child?

That question was a question I would investigate all weekend: how can I nourish myself while supporting my daughter in her own play and nourishment. It is in fact a question we as care-givers navigate a lot in our lives. Being in a structured environment allowed me to see my mind and how it struggled with this balance, more clearly.

For starters, in all of the effort in getting to Kripalu with Anjali, and getting her and me settled into the room, and getting her to the program, When I finally got to mine, I realized I had not even paused to contemplate what I was entering into! I think of myself as a naturally joyous person, but when I entered the room, I was certainly not feeling the euphoria that seemed to be emanating from my fellow participants and my teachers. I felt skepticism, and tiredness, a subtle judgment, and definitely not joy. Dancing that night was amazing. But also opened up a few sore spots within. 

Second, coming to your retreat is NOT the same as coming by yourself, meaning you can’t do all the things you would have done by yourself. In a moment of weakness, I forgot that too! (Tired brain, remember?). Massage is a weakness of mine, I love getting them, and Kripalu’s Ayurvedic massages is definitely one of my favorite kind! I scheduled a massage at one of the only available times, at 7.00 in the evening on Saturday. Anjali was not happy when she heard about this late Friday night. And it caused me a lot of angst in causing her discomfort. After she fell asleep, all of those inner critical voices joined together. How could I leave her alone in the room (no matter that it was on the same floor)? What if there is a fire alarm? Surely leaving my child alone can qualify as negligent parenting. My voices were insistent and relentless. It was past midnight when I finally fell asleep that night, too tired to struggle. Saturday morning I was ready to cancel my appointment, about to head out, when Anjali stopped me. She said, “Mom, don’t cancel. You love this. You should do it. I got this.” She truly did. She saved my day. That massage was not the best I have had: it was hard to completely let go of my worries, though I tried to surrender as best as I could and kept relaxing my body. When I got back, there was my baby, ready for bed, in her pajamas, reading. It was a priceless moment, I felt so moved, appreciative and so grateful! Transformed by my appreciation for her wondrous gift!

Sunday came upon us, gorgeous! My last session was when I discovered the euphoria. It was there. Just hidden underneath layers of comfort, habit and complacency. It emerged, beautiful, like a butterfly, transforming me from within. My kindred spirits in the workshop held the container for me while I went through this journey. I felt gratitude, exhilaration and generosity. That afternoon, I took Anjali to the lake, where my watery child swam with fishes and exuded exuberance! And we did the labyrinth one last time before saying good bye to Kripalu. Hope to return again next year!

Namaste, S.

My last session was when I discovered the euphoria. It was there. Just hidden underneath layers of comfort, habit and complacency. It emerged, beautiful, like a butterfly, transforming me from within.

Coming home…

It is my first day of school vacation. My second year of teaching has flown by, and it has brought me such learning, and growth and appreciation, I feel grateful to find something I cherish and love doing everyday. I love my students, and my colleagues, and I love that I am paid to do math everyday!

And I also love my school vacation.

On this beautiful quiet morning, after dropping off Anjali, now 4 and ¾ as she reminded me this morning, I walked on the meandering roads near my house and I couldn’t help marveling at how my life has unfolded here in the upper valley. I came here as a graduate student to Dartmouth college, when I was 21. And I just never left. It has been nearly 14 years now. It wasn’t a love affair from the beginning, I can tell you that for sure. In fact I cried those beginning months, to be back home, to be around people again. And then one starry night, I walked outside from a show at the Hopkins center, and that’s when I knew. I was going to stay.

It is amazing to me that such a small place can hold so much. The beautiful magnificent fall – in all its triumphant colors that change everyday, culminating in a rich golden dance of leaves that lead into nothingness. And then the beauty of pure white snow and the trees clothed in white, the snowy banks and mountains and the feel of icy cold air on the cheeks. Everything feels so still in the winter. And then the melting and the nothingness in between – before the buds shoot forth and miracle of life happens again. The trees and plants grow leaves, and somehow in a span of a magical month, everything is green again. And now, as I gaze around me, I’m greeted in all directions by the lushness of green. Who knew there were so many shades of green? Not to mention the flowers. Each walk I go, I discover a new bloom, a new kind of flower, a new scent. My heart is made so happy! And I am in awe of this unfolding that happens every year without fail, and that I get to be the witness to this beauty of transformation.

Each year seems to bring something new. This year, after living in our home for over 7 years, we saw a black bear in our back yard for the first time! It wasn’t large, but it had come to find seed at our bird feeder, which we then had to take down. In the last year and half, we have seen and learned the names of over 10 species of birds come to our yard, and listened to their calls and watched their way of patiently waiting for their turn at the feeder. In the roads around my home, I have taken countless walks. I have walked with friends, I have walked as a pregnant woman, as a new mother with my baby snug in the wrap next to me, as mom pushing the stroller with my child, more recently walking side-by-side with my daughter, and then sometimes like this morning, alone by myself. Life has come a full circle. And as I take each footstep up the hill lined with purple and yellow wild flowers, I know I am home.

So here is to the place closest to my heart, my home, the place I have lived longer than any other place in my life, the place that bears witness to my own transformation. I bow to you in gratitude and joy!

With love, S.

Sing your song…

I’ve wanting to write in my blog these past few weeks, but nothing materializes. Somehow I don’t have the words to describe all that I feel. When I try words, they seem cliched, trivial and I know my life experience is anything but that. So much has been happening, each day, each week, I can hardly keep up. I don’t mean externally – my life is a simple one for the most part – family, work and play. Internally, it is a different story. I have moments each day when everyone makes sense and I am magically alive. I spend several moments each day, lost in trance – of being elsewhere – not quite in the moment. I have come to recognize those moments with fondness – they allow me to soften. Making the turn and seeing a familiar face, or walking into a shop and seeing somebody I know, or simply walking sometimes. A lot of times, while driving. My judgments for wandering have diminished leaving a strange comaraderie for myself. This is me – imperfect. and my attention wanders. Lets return. and I do.

I have moments when I am caught in the anguish, of feeling that I am not enough. Frustration that I cannot be more, do more. And somehow, I notice, and they pass. The moments I feel most alive are when I am in nature, and when I stop and appreciate whatever is in front of me. It happens a lot when I am with my daughter – she forces me to pause. Its like she sees this beautiful being in me that makes me stop and figure out if I can catch a glimpse of this being in me too. Such love, a daughter brings. such joyful play and appreciation.

So, tonight, before I go to bed, I will be sneaking into my daughter’s room to watch her tonight. I hope you too have something that makes your heart smile.

I leave you with this…

Sing your song

life isn’t all that long
so take this moment
to sing your song

sing it wildly,
belt out loudly
let everyone hear

that heartful voice
inside of you
loud and clear

no one else can sing it
the way you do, not quite,
there is no other you

so take this moment,
pause for a minute
get ready and sing…!

With Love, S.

The graceful (grateful) coming of Spring…

Its April the 2nd. Spring is here! Whether it was for a day or a few hours, the sun was out today, and we had blue skies, cool breeze and a warm day. Just walking outside without a heavy jacket felt…liberating! A few pounds lighter and feeling heart-happy, I couldn’t help but muse on happiness. My thoughts ebbed and flowed, but there was nothing in particular that I was thinking or obsessing about. No worries that came to mind. I felt distinctly comfortable. My thoughts drifted along and I kept returning to the cool air touching my face and my feet touching the ground. I realized in the moment, that I was feeling happiness. A sense of wellness about my life.

Its amazing when we think about happiness – it doesn’t mean we don’t have issues or stuff happening – but somehow there is no pushing away, and there is a feeling of relaxed wellness that we can rest in. We are not holding on to something, and we are not pushing away anything. Somehow our energies are freed from efforting, and we simply are in the moment. happy. Sometimes conditions come together – like today: beautiful weather, time at hand, not too tired, and a comfortable body. Other times, happiness arises spontaneously like sun rays glistening through on a rainy day. What matters is that we notice. Somehow noticing solidifies that happiness, and increases it. I don’t know how.

Writer Gretchen Rubin talks about it in Happiness project, which has become one of my beloved go-to-books: that we aren’t happy until we think we are. In my own experience, I know this is true: when I notice my happiness, I can keep my stories of dramatizing difficult situations in check. I know that things are not always difficult – from my own experience, and hence they will pass. I have also found another secret that somehow eluded me for a large part of my life: that when things are difficult, it is nothing personal. It just is, and that’s life. When I don’t take it as the universe’s personal vendetta against me, I’m able to respond with equanimity and compassion.

Why realizing this secret in the moment is so hard, I don’t know. BUt I do understand why it is necessary to pay attention. When I invest in my happiness, like going for the walk today, I feel more relaxed and hence better able to pay attention without drifting off into space land of thinking or wishing. And when I’m balanced, I deal with life’s curveballs with more grace. And somehow this touches those around me – and that motivates me to take better care of myself. Its all inter-connected! That is the amazing part!

Blessings and peace to you and happy spring!

Twilight moments…

I am a twilight fan. There. I said it! I have been dreading this moment. It all started harmlessly enough. Sitting with Abhi on the couch, browsing through netflix, we came across Twilight among recent new releases on Netflix. I remembered vaguely enjoying it a few years ago, so we watched it that night. I am a sucker for love stories. Abhi, noticing my obvious enjoyment of Bella and Edward’s love story went ahead and ordered the whole saga for me. Mistake. Not that I’m not hugely appreciative – but mistake nonetheless. I ended up watching each installment of the saga over the period of a week. That is 5 movies of 2 hours each, so about 10 hours in total. This may not seem like much to some of you – but I’m somebody who doesn’t get very attached to TV series. Or rather, I’m impressionable so I practice restraint. The few shows I watch – and have watched – Downton Abby, Parenthood, Baking shows, to name a few – are in moderation because they only show one episode a week. I avoid crime, violence and intense drama because they get into my head. And I get bored by watching the same show for more than a couple of days. Hence, imagine my puzzlement when I found myself anxious to return each night after Anji’s bedtime, to the next chapter in vampire romance!

Clearly, this was against all odds. I could think of so many reasons why I should’t be watching this saga. Top of the list was that this series does not make any sense. And yet, drawn I was, like a moth to a flame night after night. My sweet husband valiantly watched all of them with me – that is how much he loves to spend time with me. I felt terrible for putting him through the ordeal! But stop, I could not.

Finally the last of Breaking Dawn finished and I realized how much of a lesson I was really learning. Other than my own self-judgment criticizing staying up late and any related thought that arose harmlessly in my mind, there was no problem really. But that is forgetting exactly how entrenched my self-judgment really is! I struggled with pushing away innocent thoughts of Forks as I drove on new england roads. ‘Go away!’, I said. And of course that didn’t work!

And finally, one night tossing and turning, berating myself and my mind, I came into softening. There was really nowhere else to go. My mind and heart softened. I chanted metta phrases every time a thought or scene from the movies arose in my mind. ‘May I be happy, may I be peaceful!’, I repeated over and over.. All night, my body and face kept softening intentionally until I realized: here was the practice! This was what Twilight had led me to. The workings of my own mind, observing, witnessing and accepting all of my thoughts. and softening and embracing my own loving heart. When I woke up in the morning, all was calm, my face and heart was shining.

I am a twilight fan. I adore the story of Bella Swan and Edward Cullen. There I said it. I’m not proud but I still love the goofball teenager inside me!

Peace to you,
S.

January: reflections…

How the life of a mother evolves…When I got into motherhood more than four years ago, I had no idea what I was getting into. Now four years into it, I’m learning what this is possibly about.

Patience. Enormous patience. Patience with oneself, patience with our partner, with our child, with others. Kindness. Kindness in those moments when we don’t know what is wrong, or what is happening. We don’t know why. Kindness and softening. That to me, appears to be a life-long learning. And the indescribable love and delight in life. Truly opening to what life has to offer – the not knowing, the mysteries and the day-to-day joys. When Anjali and I share our cuddles, I am complete and healed from every possible wound and hurt, internal and external. This embrace, loving, completely accepting is something I am always touched by. Sometimes if I am particularly overwhelmed, or my daughter is, we will do one-minute hugs. Just sit and hug for a complete minute with no agenda in mind. I love those moments!

Perhaps all children have this amazing capacity of appreciation and being present. I see when watching Anji’s buddies at school playing – how much fun kids have. We as adults are so much jaded. They seem so much more into adventure and lack of worrying about the future or self-critisicm about the past. When I am truly stressed, that is usually a sign that I need to be attentive and observe more and do less. It doesn’t take long for my daughter to inspire me. Perhaps it is the patience and presence she brings into her moment – whether she is beading, drawing or leaping joyously across our living room rug pretending to be a princess or on the beach. The innate capacity we all have to entertain, enliven and be happy is so inspiring to me. When I read books to her, or when I make up stories, which has been the new favorite thing, I feel connected to the flow of life. Present somehow. Wiser somehow. This is it. this is the joy I too felt when I was a child – of discovering something new, the thrill of learning something different, of figuring it out, of finding my own capacity to do something. And it all comes back. Maybe being a mother is at the end, about being a child all over again.

I don’t have all the words – perhaps I never will. Staying indoors, reflecting on this cold January afternoon seems to be right in expressing some of this…maybe more will come later… I would love to hear from others…

Peace and warmth to you,
Shuba