A Multitude of Lessons

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(Because of the opening content, I will say at the beginning of this post, instead of at the end, that I originally published this article in the September 1998 volume of The New Times newspaper. The first experience I describe in the article happened in the fall of 1997.)

As I sit here, only days away from undergoing surgery to remove an ovarian tumor, I find myself in a very reflective mood. I read yesterday that the Chinese word for “crisis” is a combination of “danger” and “opportunity.” I can certainly see the potential for both in my current situation. Since I do not yet know whether the tumor is benign or malignant, I am uncertain if I will simply experience a variation in the color of my day for a few weeks, or if this heralds the beginning of a major life change. The danger is obvious. So is opportunity, as lessons already abound.

The tumor was detected days before I was to leave for my annual visit to Amma’s ashram in South India. This trip has been a major part of my life for the last eight years [Note: Remember this event occurred in 1997. I can now say I have been going to India for 26 years!] The discovery of the tumor and the abrupt change in plans has provided me with the opportunity to face my fears of pain, disability and death, as well as providing lessons in letting go of expectations, letting go of desires, and trusting Amma to guide me. I am also getting practice in maintaining the attitude that all lessons I am given are for my own good.

I have to laugh when I remember that this is occurring as I am planning a workshop focused on staying in the present moment. I continue to chuckle as I recall that I am also in the midst of writing an article about how God can teach a multitude of lessons through a single event. This is so much the way Amma tends to teach me, i.e. through experience rather than words.

In a guru-disciple relationship the guru sets up a variety of experiences so that the disciple can see weaknesses that need to be addressed or lessons that need to be learned. I have no way of knowing how many of the lessons Amma consciously sends my way. Some might say that God, Spirit or the universe sends the lesson. Generally, I find it helpful to simply attribute lessons to Amma.

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The first time I became aware of how many lessons can be learned from a single event was in 1995. I had decided to create a workshop entitled “Lessons on Lessons.” This workshop would give me the opportunity to teach much of what I had learned about the process of receiving, recognizing, and working through universal lessons. I planned to develop the workshop during that year’s pilgrimage to India. It didn’t occur to me that going to India with an intention like that was like holding up a sign saying, “Amma, please send me lots of extra lessons.”

Within minutes of my arrival at the ashram that year, two devotees enthusiastically said, “I can’t wait until you hear the new song.” One added, “Actually, some of us are concerned that when you hear it, you will leave your body and not come back.” (Often when I hear bhajans, i.e., devotional songs, I experience ecstatic bliss. Sometimes I feel like only my body is in the room, while the rest of me is in some unknown, unseen, wonderful place.) Leaving my body and not coming back seemed totally out of the question, however, so I was not at all worried. I was intrigued, though, and eager to hear the song. Some time was to pass before I would have that opportunity, since the senior disciple who wrote the song, was in Mumbai (Bombay).

Several weeks later, I traveled to Kozhikode (Calicut), a city in North Kerala, where Amma was conducting a seven-day temple re-dedication. I was assigned to stay on the roof of the temple. There were several places on the roof where mounds of rough concrete rose awkwardly two to three inches above the surface. Numerous times, when I passed a particular mound, my inner voice said, “Be careful, that concrete is dangerous.” My response was, “I see it. I AM being careful.” I would then continue blithely on my way. One day, as I was walking across the roof-top to my sleeping mat, not paying a bit of conscious attention to what I was doing, I tripped over the mound of concrete and tore a big piece of flesh from the top of my toe.

The injury was very painful but that was the least of my concerns. Having an open foot wound in India seemed very dangerous. Most of the time I go barefoot and the ground was undoubtedly filled with untold numbers and varieties of bacteria. My nursing background told me that the extreme heat and humidity created a perfect breeding ground for bacteria.

I cleaned the wound as best I could and went on with my life. I found I needed to stay very conscious of my surroundings because any time I would lose concentration, I would hit my toe on something, sending waves of pain coursing through my body.

That same day the swami who wrote the song my friends were so eager for me to hear arrived in Kozhikode. He sang it that very night. My friends were right, the song profoundly affected me. Massive amounts of energy soared through my body and with it came waves of deep grief. As I cried and cried, another part of me noted that my experience was somewhat muted due to the pain I was experiencing in my toe. I thought, “Well, Amma, THAT was an interesting way to keep me in my body!”

I was aware that this incident had already served three functions. It reminded me of the importance of paying attention to the instructions given by my inner voice and showed me that I could trust Amma to help me during altered-state experiences, i.e. the pain had kept me from going “too far” out during the song. I also recognized that the injury had provided me with practice in mindfulness in that I needed to stay very conscious of my environment so that I didn’t hit my injured foot, not to mention that if I had been mindful, I would not have injured my foot in the first place. During the next few days, I discovered other learning opportunities.

First, I stayed focused on the re-dedication program. A number of devotees had decided to explore the city. The fact that my foot hurt when I walked made it easy to say “No” to diversions and to stay focused on my spiritual goals.

Before I left the U.S., I had attended a workshop led by Steven Levine, who is considered by many to be a master teacher in the realm of living and dying consciously. He commented that if we want to pursue a spiritual path, we have to be willing to feel fear. I was certainly having the opportunity to face my fear of infection and pain.

A minister once taught me that you have to use the faith you have before you will be given more. I was being given the opportunity to trust that I would be taken care of and, at the same time, trust that whatever happens is for my own good.

My toe healed at an amazing speed. I would not have expected it to heal so quickly even in the United States where cooler temperatures and a cleaner environment would have made it easier to protect and take care of the injury. The speed of the healing tremendously increased my faith in the power of the spiritual energy flowing through me.

I recognized that I had learned at least seven lessons from this one incident. I wondered how many more I had learned at an unconscious level. In addition, the friends that were supporting me had the opportunity to learn many of the same lessons by watching and participating in my experience. Also, I had a new segment for my workshop, i.e., I could teach that by staying conscious one can learn many things from a single event.

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As I bring my mind back to my current health problems, I am thankful for all I have learned in the past. I am very aware that those lessons prepared me for what I am experiencing now. I know there is much to be gained from this unexpected turn of events. While I grieve not being able to go to India, I also feel a sense of adventure as I anticipate what is to come. I thank God for the adventure that is Life.

(Note: The ovarian tumor turned out to be benign. I recovered rapidly from my 1997 surgical experience and a month later traveled to India for a short visit.)

Weekly Photo Challenge: Partners

There are so many different types of partners!

Weekly Photo Challenge: Partners

A New Beginning in Seattle

Leaving home for college!

In September of 1966, I left my family home in Florida to go to college in Seattle. I was so excited. My first night there, I stayed in a downtown hotel. The next morning, I walked the Seattle streets marveling at the skyscrapers. Having grown up on army bases, I had never seen buildings so high. The other thing I remember doing that day was buying a small typewriter, one with a red case. Since the suitcases I had brought from Florida were also red, I’m assuming that must have been my favorite color in those days. Or maybe it was the color of new beginnings. In September of this year, I will have lived in Seattle for 50 years, so that day was definitely a new beginning!

This post was originally meant to be a response to last Wednesday’s Daily Post prompt- City. As I started thinking about this 1966 event though, I became curious about changes I have witnessed since I moved here. I remember at that time the Smith Tower was the highest building in Seattle. No one was allowed to build a skyscraper that was taller. The only exception to that rule was the Space Needle which had been built for a World’s Fair in 1962.

Smith Tower

Space Needle

Seafirst Building

The Smith Tower was built in 1914 and is 38 stories and 484 feet. The Space Needle which is 605 feet high and, as I already mentioned, was built in 1962. The height restriction was eventually changed and the Seafirst Building was built in 1969. It has 50 stories and is 638 feet high. Now, the tallest building in Seattle is the Columbia Center. It is 76 stories and 943 feet high and was built in 1983.

Columbia_Center,_by_simonsonjh — Columbia Center

Next, I wondered how the population had changed during the 50 years I have lived here.

In 1970, the population of Seattle was 530, 831 and in 2015 it was 668, 831. The current population was much smaller than I expected. When I looked into it, I discovered that the city’s population actually went down when the Boeing workforce was reduced from 80,400 to 37,200 in 1970/71. While the city itself did not have tremendous growth between 1970 and 2015, the suburbs and metropolitan area really grew. In 2015, the population of Seattle metropolitan area was 3,733,580 and we had the 15th largest metropolitan area in the U.S.

The_Fabs

The last thing I will mention is that when I first Goggled “1966 Seattle” I was rather surprised to see that the first three listings were about the Beatles August 25, 1966 concert! I don’t remember being aware of their recent visit at the time, but I imagine it must have been a major topic of conversation for many Seattlites.

It has been interesting to think about my arrival in Seattle and learn more about the city I chose to be my home. Thank you WordPress for your “City” prompt.

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Photo Credits : Wikimedia

All statistics come from Wikipedia.com

Breakfast Time!

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Today I decided I would make breakfast with vegetables from my garden. The garden is small and some of the vegetables are already getting sparse, but I was able to include beets, two kinds of carrots, spinach, chard, yellow squash, a squash blosssom, a potato and basil. I realized later that I forgot to include a zucchini and I chose not to use my last bok choy plant.

I was particularly excited about the beet because I’ve never had any luck growing them. But today the one I pulled out was BIG, at least in comparison to any I’ve had in my garden in the past.

I decided I would steam them with a bit of dill. They tasted uttamam! (Uttamam means “very good” in Sanskrit.)

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Later, I realized that I could have cooked some of the beet greens, but I know the worms in my two worm bins will thoroughly enjoy eating all of the scraps. It seems fitting since they deserve a lot of the credit for the harvest.

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I am still very much a beginning gardener. I love how much I learn each year

Wordless Wednesday

The Power of Love

I found this video so moving. I hope you do too.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Curves #2

About three years ago I woke up with a compulsion to build a spiral garden in my front yard. By the end of the day it was done!

The Beginning:

It became so beautiful.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Curve

Front Yard Vegetable Gardens in My Neighborhood

I don’t know how many Seattle residents have front yard gardens, but they are definitely common in my neighborhood. I love to see people growing some of their own food.

I visited the neighbors that live across the street from me yesterday. It is always such a treat to see their gardens. They have turned their yard into property that is magical. Even though the photos don’t capture it, know that this front yard garden is tiered on a steep slope. Eiric weaves branches to create the structure for the beds and remakes them every two years. When I asked him the correct terminology to describe this process he responded: “They are ‘wattled’ beds of Apple ‘air shoot’ branches.”

(To enlarge photos click on the individual galleries.)

Other nearby gardens:

And mine!

There are many other front yard vegetable gardens in this neighborhood but I think I’ve shown you enough to give you a good idea of what they are like. I wonder how many people have back yard gardens too!

Support in Times of Trouble

Pain is a part of the human experience. Since we are imperfect beings, we all do things (intentionally and unintentionally) that cause pain for ourselves and others. As nothing is permanent, relationships come and go, ending either through separation or death. Each loss makes the way for a new beginning.

Pain creates discomfort that provides us with the opportunity and the motivation to learn and grow. As our resistance to pain decreases, our ability to experience joy increases. While pain is inevitable, the support we receive from others can make it more bearable.

I am very aware of the ongoing emotional support that I have received from Amma during painful life events. While I could give a multitude of examples, perhaps the most remarkable ones occurred in the time frames surrounding the deaths of my mother, brother and father.

Grandma and Sreejit2 — My mother with Sreejit in 1977

In 1992, within days of returning from a visit to Amma’s ashram in southern India, I received a phone call from one of my brothers saying that my mother was in a coma and near death. Every time the coma lifted, however, she would call for me. This was a surprise as she had instructed me years before that when she reached the end of her life, I was not to come to the hospital, nor was I to attend her funeral. My father had disowned me in 1971 when I married a black man and had not spoken to me since. My mother gave me those instructions because she knew my presence would upset my father.

Now her death was imminent and she was calling for me. When I arrived at her bedside a day or two later, my mother wept with joy and relief. During the next week, I visited her daily at times when my father would not be present. I knew that if he found I had been there, he would refuse to visit her again.

I wondered what I could do to help my mother’s passing. I felt drawn to buy her a cassette player and two tapes, Alleluia and Om Namah Shivaya, both by Robert Gass and the Wings of Song. [There are many meanings for Om Namah Shivaya. The translation I like includes three of the meanings: “I bow to the God within me,” “I bow to the universal God,”and “I bow to the aspect of God that is Shiva.”] When I played Alleluia for my mother, she began to cry. When I played the Om Namah Shivaya tape her immediate response was, “I have heard that before.” I knew enough about my mother and her life to think it was highly unlikely that she had heard that song before. I sensed that Amma was nearby, helping prepare my mother for her journey Home.

I felt very grateful that these events were happening during a time I felt filled with Amma’s love. I also sensed that my recent vision to her Indian ashram allowed me to be more open to the direction of Spirit than I might be otherwise.

My mother died a month later, after I had returned to Seattle. When I attended her funeral, my brothers’ invitation having overpowered my father’s disapproval, I was told that my mother had listened to the Om Namah Shivaya tape constantly from the time I gave it to her until her death. The nurses would wheel her into the atrium of the hospice with the cassette player and headphones accompanying her. She and my brothers listed to the song together in her room. I was told that one of the nurses would sit with her, and together they would sing along with the tape. I was exceedingly grateful to have been able to participate in my mother’s dying process in that way.

Chai, Cindy, Bill, and Sreejit in the late 80's — Chaitanya, Bill’s wife, Bill, and Sreejit in the late 80’s

My brother Bill had been diagnosed with cancer five years earlier. After my mother died, his health began a rapid decline. I expected that he would die prior to the time Amma arrived in the U.S. for her yearly tour. (She conducts programs in North America in June and July of each year.) As the time for the tour came closer, it became obvious to me that he would pass while Amma was in our country.

That year I traveled to Vancouver, BC to attend the first of Amma’s North American programs. Next came the Seattle retreat. (In those days the retreat occurred before the public programs.) On the last day of the retreat, as I was sitting out in an open field listening to a tape, my son approached me and said that my brother had died. He put his arm around me and I cried.

I was aware of how Amma/Spirit/God had taken care of me once again. My brother had passed when I was at a retreat where I could be in Amma’s arms receiving the massive love she bestows. Most of my friends were present and available for support as well.

Later, when I made plane reservations to attend my brothers funeral, I felt even more cared for. Unbelievable as it might seem, my plane would return to Seattle at the same time Amma would be in the airport waiting for the plane that she would take to continue her tour. I was able to walk off of my plane and moments later, once again be in her arms.

The third example happened in January 1999. I was in Amma’s ashram in Amritapuri, India when I received a phone call that my father had unexpectedly died. Once again, I was able to go directly to Amma after having received the news. When I had attended my mother and brother’s funerals, my father had been unwilling to speak to me. In both instances, he had left immediately after the services to avoid any possible contact. Clearly, he would not have wanted me at his funeral, so leaving India was unnecessary. I felt grateful to be in a place where I could have Amma’s support and the support of many friends as I grieved the loss of the fantasy that he would eventually be willing to engage with me. I was in awe that once again I had been with her when a member of my family died.

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Photo Credit: Amma’s Facebook Page

So frequently the painful life events I have experienced since I met Amma have occurred just before, during or immediately after I have spent time with her. Having her physical or spiritual presence during those times has increased my faith, allowing me to trust at ever deeper levels that she will be there for me when I need her. As my faith has increased, my ability to surrender to the will of guru and Spirit has grown.

I love this adventure called life. I so appreciate the love and support that is available within a guru-disciple relationship and I am exceedingly grateful that this is the spiritual path I have chosen.

Adapted from article written for The New Times: May 1999

Amma is presently in North America on her 2016 Summer Tour. Her schedule can be found at: http://amma.org/meeting-amma/north-america