Wednesday, 19 November 2014


I thought to myself, oh go paint your face! A little lipstick, some eyeliner. Don't show all the wrinkles on your neck! Though I didn't do any of these things, I did take five photos in the Photo Booth before selecting one, the one in which I looked half way decent. After months of not wearing any jewelry, I did decide to wear pieces given to me by Payson. Yes, it's old age, but I like I said, I love myself more now than ever before!


. . . but whatever it is that makes me prefer, even love this virtual life, is a marvelously good thing. If this inner satisfaction with my reclusive life is a function of aging, then all the power to old age! I am more contented than I have ever been. I know better than to think this is a permanent state. When the book, THE SINGING GURU comes out, I will have to do some hustling and bustling. But this down period is rest and preparation for it.

And then, of course, some travel is coming up!


And I have been a shopper! It was a distraction, an expression of an inability to do nothing with my time. I would feel bad if I missed a sale, and horde all the catalogues that I received, whether I bought anything or not. Shopping occupied a place in my TO DO list. Order this and that. Now I don't even want to go to the drug store to get necessities. Fortunately, you can buy everything on line, including toothpaste and birdseed. Think of how much time and energy it saves! This virtual life is a good life!


It is so simple and one can do it in one's own time without having to drive anywhere, without having to dress up. One can do it one's pajamas! An email when you feel like it, a quiet connection, without spoken words, just the written ones, for which I have a huge preference.

Are we getting too inner? This is a question that must be answered for oneself. As far as I am concerned, one can never be inner enough. I love the quiet of my days, all becoming Sundays, I would say, without any pressures to go anywhere or do anything in particular, though doing remains my delight. I love scribbling, doing the few things my body wants to do when it wants it, and resting when it says, okay, take a break!

As Wordsworth said: I love not man (or woman) the less, but nature more. In this particular case, my own nature.


I have left all oughts and shoulds outside my front door, like worn out old shoes that no longer serve: I ought to be more social, I should go out more, I ought not to be such a recluse, I should mingle more. I have lived by a whole horde of oughts and shoulds my whole life -- all together too long. Since my return from India, I have done exactly what I have felt like doing. My need for fresh air and the outdoors is taken care of by some gardening and short walks on the beach. Lately, Payson and I have just sat on the deck, watching the many colors of the setting sun. It is all hugely satisfying and there are no regrets. I love burrowing and there is nothing sweeter than a cozy cuddling up with hubby. This is a preference, not a must.

Yet . . . I am reaching out to my readers here. Being social is important. Fortunately one can be virtually social these days.

Monday, 3 November 2014


The title of this blog comes from one of Payson's dreams, which I abbreviate as follows. He's in New York (by the way, most of his dreams begin this way: "I'm in New York . . . ") and performing in a play. He's standing in the wings and remembers that he doesn't remember his lines (oh, how often I have had that dream!). He's getting more and more anxious, he steps onto the stage, and says, "We are all here together. Give Thanks!" The audience bursts into a deafening applause as it gives him a standing ovation.

Let me tell you by an example why this is so very important. Payson generally goes to sleep after me, and wakes up early. Yesterday the order was reversed. I woke up before him, went up doing the things one does upon waking up: these days, because of jet lag, I eat first before brushing my teeth, etc, etc. Yesterday suddenly I was gripped with worry as I flashed back to my friend, Dinaz, and her husband, Jean Charles.

Dinaz had woken up one morning in 2007, brushed her teeth, etc etc, perhaps even had breakfast (I don't recall) before realizing Jean Charles was still not up. She went into the bedroom, and though I don't the details -- perhaps she snuggled back into bed with him and discovered his cold and stiff body -- to find that he had passed away in his sleep.

I went into the bedroom and heard Payson's gentle snoring and my heart soared in jubilation and gratitude. I realized that each day we awake from our sleep is cause for celebration and gratitude. Why must it take a death for us to realize this? Cannot we not remember this each morning as we awaken?

No, at this age, or at any age, one cannot live in this blunt and unconscious way of living unmindfully through our days.


"Kamla Kapur chooses an innovative and wondrous way of retelling the eternal truths contained in the life and teachings of Guru Nanak. Her simple, melodious narrative depicts common human frailties and deep philosophical complexities with equal ease: The Singing Guru will delight the mind even as it enlightens the spirit."- Navtej Sarna


2:30 a.m. : have just had a wonderful breakfast of one egg cooked in coconut oil, a slice of gluten free rice bread with butter, a cup of chai with an indulgent spoon of sugar with an oat cookie -- don't feel like doing anything at all, but sitting here to babble seemed like an option -- first, because the idea of just sitting is attractive, and second because I am trying to see what I can say at those moments when there is nothing to say. It is an exercise, if you will. Like I said before, focus and attention help you to scratch the surface of a silent bla-ness and allow you to see how much there is to say or write about,  or something, at least, to say. One lives. There is infinite matter in minutiae -- eggs and toast and tea, the ingredients of a good life, indications of a healthy digestion, much appreciated by someone with chronic indigestion, like me. A word, a thought, begetting others. And infinite cause for gratitude.

Sunday, 2 November 2014


For years and years -- you only have to go into my archives to see -- I have suffered from severe depression on returning to the US. In retrospect, I can see why. I put too much pressure on myself to do, do. The more tired I felt, the more I pushed myself at anything, at everything, from the many things that have to be done when returning to a home after six months, to writing, to feeling terrible I wasn't writing: I wasn't good enough, successful enough, pretty and young enough. I did not allow myself the transitional space and time to segue into another life. This time, everything's changed and I am having a truly happy time. I rest when my body tells me to, sleep a lot when I need it, and leisurely set my space  in order. Payson, terrific mate, arrives a week before me and does so much before I even get here that I don't have to deal with the rest of the house, just my own study and the kitchen, stocking it and cooking.

Why this change? What has caused it? Ultimately, of course, it is grace. But one can invite grace by doing one's homework. And really, there is only one homework to do -- constantly -- to be conscious of your needs, to listen to the body, to treat it like an infant, and give it what it needs by way of nourishment and rest.