'IT'S ALL FOR THE BEST' IS GLIB BUT TRUE. OR, OPTIMISM HEALS

How do you know it's all for the best, you may ask. I don't. Sometimes suffering is just suffering. I've been to the dentist this morning for a root canal, and going again in two days for another one. Yikes! But I tell ya, if I didn't believe it was all for the best, the pain would be a hundred times greater! Optimism heals. While you are sitting in the dentist's chair, if you don't relax, don't believe and tell yourself all will be well, you suffer more.

FALLING

The thing about falling is that is happens so spontaneously that you are left marveling at it. It is utterly outside your control. I did have a moment before I stepped on the bridge where I wondered whether I shouldn't be walking on the leaves instead. But Payson was going that way, and I decided to follow him. Well, sometimes it is better to follow your intuition than your husband! But so much kindness came from my fall. A young couple came to help immediately, rubbing me and helping me to wobble to the hall where I was going to do some yoga. The young girl ran to the office and said (Payson told me later) "the Ganesha lady has fallen!" Another man came to give me an adjustment and a healing and a tube of ointment. And my injury has helped to slow me down . . . much needed for a while! It's all for the best.

PROCRASTINATION AND INERTIA

Well, when you haven't done something for a while (like writing a post for this blog) it gets harder to do because you think, well I should have a good excuse, or I should say something brilliant, at least.  I have sort of an excuse and no brilliance to speak of at this time.  When you reach such an impasse, you just have to jump in and do it. Put inertia to work, as it were.

I have been traveling -- Payson and I were up North in Northern California, in Mill Valley and Grass Valley, specifically. It's good to make a trip half way through our stay in the US, and besides, we both had invitations to read/talk at the Shivananda Yoga Farm in Grass Valley, and I had never been there before. The yoga farm was a great setting, an experience of winter that we rarely get at Southern California, and the magnificent sight of bare trees, sort of like their root system made visible; plenty of birds, even deer, and tall white grasses. I loved my two talks there! I got an idea for a book from them, and loved interacting with an audience. Payson showed the several videos he has been working on, Ajanta and Ellora. On our last day there I slipped on a frosty wooden bridge and went for quite a toss, landing on my bad hip, then rolling over and falling thud on my sacrum. I thought I was fine, even did a ton of walking the next day on the 240 acre ranch by the American River, belonging to our friend Libby with whom we were staying at Mill Valley, but ten days later, the body is still in discomfort and finds itself whimpering every once in a while. For the first time in my life I was grateful for some padding on my butt and realized how essential it is not to be bony as you age.

NEW YEAR WISHES FOR MY READERS

The year is winding down and it’s important to do some stock taking. Payson and I went out to the cliffs yesterday, and because my hip was hurting, we just sat on a corner of the cliffs hidden from the path by bushes, and talked. We talked about the almost over year -- an important aspect of stock taking since it helps us put things in perspective; the important thing here is to see even the so called 'negative' events in a healthy light, which is their true light. We talked about  our hopes for the coming year. After talking about wanting health for Payson and me, and a list of other things I’ve forgotten, almost as an afterthought I said, I would like my spiritual life to deepen. Payson replied: that is our task now.

I have been thinking about that, specially this morning. I woke up rested and happy but when I turned on the computer a prospective renter to Powhatan (falling vacant at the end of Jan) fell through, and my state of mind was so fragile that I perceived it as rejection, and all my other rejections crowded in upon me, making me feel vulnerable and worthless. I knew I had to meditate, and did. So much became clear to me while meditating: there is, ultimately, only one thing to ask the Lord of the Universe for; everything else is perishable.

That one thing is that relaxed, easy state of mind and heart where everything the universe brings – and it’s going to bring a mixed bag, the up down of the stock market, the graph of the beating heart – I can accept with open arms. But perhaps this is not the first thing to ask for. Ask only for the Cosmic Wish Fullfiller. Ask only for Love. This alone is the treasure of all treasures. This brings you to that place where the heart and mind, though frequently disturbed by the winds, return to that place where all is always all right. This then, is what I wish for my dear readers. 

OFFERING OURSELVES UP TO THE BEASTS OF OUR OWN MAKING

I hadn't sung for over a month; the corner where the synthesizer, my tabla machine and music books are kept was strung with spider webs; ants had gotten into the honey I keep in a jar to moisten and sweeten my throat. I wasn't good enough, never would be, so might as give the whole thing up. Never mind that my broken and rough voice that often sounds like a broken drum had given me years, and years of joy. Twenty years, in fact. How I got started is another long story. Suffice it to say, that a harmonium was given to me miraculously by someone after Donald died, and it is one of things that saved me. I taught myself to find a melody on the keys, I taught myself how to compose music for the lovely, healing, enlightening words from the Sikh holy text, The Granth Sahib; in my stupid arrogance I even sang a bit for tiny audiences. But the more I learn of music the more I know for certain how rudimentary my talent is; how the best musicians spend lifetimes on finding, then perfecting their voice.

But let me get back on track. The mind tends to digress over and over. I stopped singing. I let the thought that 'I was not good enough' destroy something so precious, so heart opening, so capable of changing the colors of my day (the word raga also means color). Stupid as this may sound, this is how stupid we all can be. We can let the brutes of brutal thoughts destroy that which is dearest to us. We don't only let the brutes get it, but we actually, in our ignorance, offer it to them. We say, here chew it to bits. My happiness and joy and peace doesn't matter to me in the least bit!

HOW WE CAN MAKE A BLESSING A CURSE, NOT BEING GOOD ENOUGH, AND MEDITATION

One of the many things that had (I'm glad it's in the past tense) happened lately is that I went to utube to see if anyone was giving lessons in Indian classical music. Well, I was astounded at how much was out there. I marveled at our world and how, literally, at our fingertips, it is. This is not a metaphor anymore but real, like fingers, those amazing fluttering, flowering things at the end of our arms that have determined who and what humans are and what they are capable of becoming.  There is, in a sense, instant gratification of our desire to know and learn.

I picked a raga -- Bhopali -- by a lovely woman called Aradhana -- and stuck with it for two weeks, imitating her way of singing -- what a lovely, clear and melodious voice! I learned much from imitating her: about learning each note, being on key, and not just voicing the note but loving it, staying with it, embellishing it, making it lyrical.

But there was a downside to this -- because we humans don't know how to define our thoughts, how to put borders around it, so to speak, and let them get out of hand (again that word) in the sense of loosing control over them. Instead of just appreciating the availability of the lesson (and I did appreciate it), I let my thoughts spill into: but I'm not good enough! I will never have a voice like hers! What's the point of singing when my voice is so hopeless!

This loosing control of the mind can become like a whirlpool that can drag you down and drown you. I have no doubt of this because I know people, including myself, who go round and round and endlessly round in it, and people who have perished in it. These are dangerous straits because they can poison your peace, destroy your joy, and snatch away your life from you. And it is all your own doing! it is the blight of allowing our beautiful thoughts to flip to ugly ones.

There is only one solution, really, and many ways to get to it. The goal is to say NO to less than kind thoughts. No, not less than kind, but actually, brutal, vicious, hellish thoughts. And the way to get this goal is, first of all, to become aware of how far out into the stormy sea tide of thoughts has take you, out of the sight of wonderful, grounding, literal, land.

How? Observe yourself. The best way is to learn to meditate. if you don't know how, begin. Who knows there may be meditation teachers on the net. In fact, I'm certain there are and will post some sights after I have researched them.  

THE EYES CAN HELP US CONNECT TO THE WORLD

Feeling a bit lonely over the holidays -- the whole family back in India. P and I walked down to the beach on Christmas day -- almost 80 degrees! -- warm, sunny, and the beach packed with people. I sat on the grass and just looked at everyone -- people of all shades, colors, ages -- out with their dogs. Just looking at them made me feel connected. The eyes spun webs to include everyone into my circle of family, the human family. And everyone's pets were my pets! Very satisfying, very healing and fulfilling!

Indeed, connection is a matter of throwing our web wide, and reeling everyone in!