SUMMARY THOUGHTS

It is March 2013 and time to write some summary thoughts about India.  I will not be going back.  Every time I think about going, I immediately say, “No.” 

I would love to see my friends, Annette and Naz; and I would love to have a few words with the wise, old Saint, KVS.  I would love to walk in the sacred air of Arunachula... and feel that rich inner smile pervade my face. I would love to stand in the stillness at 5pm, when the misty orange light on the horizon is fading fast into the dark of night, the moment when all that is India lingers at day’s end.  I would love to feel the lush moisture of tropical India soak into my skin.  I would love to step outside at mid-day and wade into the radiating 38 degree heat that penetrates instantly.  There is so much to love about India.

But I no longer need to be in India and therefore no longer have the stamina to put up with all that is so difficult in India.  I have become weary of the garbage, of the filth, of the medieval life-style, of constant chaos.  Mostly I have become weary of being a westerner in India, of being seen as a ready target, harassed at every turn… even by those whom I thought liked and supported me.

Which came first?  Did my needs change, or did my weariness simply take over, or did I change?  My last visit in 2010 was unsettling, almost from the beginning.  Maybe I was just grumpy.  Certainly, my health was not strong.  I seemed to be weak and tired most of the time.  It also came to pass that a major spiritual experience took place mid way through my stay, precipitating a major change in perspective.  In retrospect, I don’t think the combination of influences can be differentiated.  Simply, the time had come.

My journal notes home to friends and family cover my general mood and disenchantment with my stay.  No more needs to be said about the details of my last visit.  I can add no more from the vantage point of 3 years.  What remains unstated, and has taken time to put into perspective is my final spiritual experience in India.  With that experience I was clear that what I had wanted to understand spiritually had come to pass.

My interest in the spiritual was a thin thread from 1967 to the death of my father in 1992, when it suddenly became a passion. On the second night after his death I experienced a strong presence in my room, hovering at the ceiling above my bed.  It seemed to be my father.  Within a few seconds an extremely strong experience of love overwhelmed me.  It was so strong I could hardly tolerate the energy.  After a few minutes, I was so stressed, I reluctantly asked, silently, that it leave.  There was a gradual dissipation.  How did I know this exceptionally strong expression of love was my father?  The psychological explanation was that it was a resolution to our relationship… a means of letting go.  I don’t argue with that explanation.

At the same time, I was impressed with the potential of love.  It occurred to me that our living body restricted the expression of love.  This was an indelible impression.  It became very important to me that I learn to express love to the degree, which I now knew to be possible.  My search began. 

I had some understanding of the spiritual, but my passion became the understanding of, and hopefully the ability to express, pure love.  The spirituality which kept me tied to India over the years became spearheaded by my passion to understand love and this is what I experienced during my last visit to India.  It was a very short spiritual experience, minutes only.

As usual with a spiritual experience, there was nothing to say in its aftermath.  It was too stunning for words.  I did not share it with my friend, Annette, or with others I was around at the time.  While I can describe it easily now, at the time all I knew was that something profound had struck; I felt the bliss for hours after the event and felt ecstatically free for months.  My trust in life was total.  There was a dance in my step.  I knew I had changed, but had no idea how the change would effect my life, if at all.  That understanding was to come slowly over months.  Even now, 3 years later, the change is still unfolding, integrating into my day-to-day behavior.  It was a life-changing event.  What had been motivating me over the past 10 years came to an end, and so did my life-long drive to come to India.

Though I have written in prior notes about my visit to Mother Meera in Andhra Pradesh, I did not tell the story of my being with her and experiencing this life changing event.  The event was probably only 5 minutes in duration.  It was probably on the second day (I didn’t write about it at the time.  One doesn’t.  In-fact, most spiritual experiences are simply little perks that keep you going.  It is not helpful to dwell on such experiences.)  I was still settling into strange surroundings.  I was definitely not at peace.   It came totally unexpected, and so fast!  A meditation was just beginning.  My mind was just beginning to slow down.  Maybe spaciousness had developed.  It is like the moment before falling asleep.  One just does not remember.  One minute it was a usual meditation, the next an overwhelming Love suffused my being.  With it came an intense need to totally submit to Mother Meera.  It was so strong that it felt like nothing to that point in my life was worthy by comparison… not even the experience of my father’s love.  I wanted to give over to her, to devote my whole life to obeying her every wish.    

Then just as suddenly, the overwhelming desire to submit stopped in mid-stream… caution took hold.  My mind popped to the forefront.  Through the urge to totally submit to Mother Meera… and her work with children, I felt myself hold back:  Something in me objected. I simply could not submit to Mother Meera… even to the children (though my heart ached for all children).   I waited.  I knew the Love and the urge to submit was right.  Slowly, it dawned… this huge Love was not about Mother Meera it was simply about Love.  A great “Yes!” thrust forward.  I surrendered.  All was Love. This I simply knew to be true.  A deep trust suffused my being.  It felt like the ever worrying “I” would never surface again.  I knew myself to be free for the first time in my adult life.

It was a culminating experience.  This submission completed that long-standing urge to come to India that had struck back in 1968; the intense passion to understand Love that developed with my father’s death in 1992; and the urge to leap into nightly mediations in year 2000.  Why did this happen?  Why then?  Why in this new place, with this new teacher? While I had been pleased to meet yet another spiritual teacher, and to feel a radiating spiritual energy that was strong enough to still the mind, I had not been pleased with the general ambiance of the organization. 

There was an orchestration that bothered me:  Children from Mother Meera’s school were paraded for each gathering.  They were a heart rendering sight, these orphans. The good works of the organization were to be seen in pictures on the walls and in the available literature… so much was needed to support her good works.  Clearly, we were being invited to join in these activities by providing donations or volunteering.  I feel nervous when things are so clearly orchestrated.

In addition there was an authoritarian presence that was disturbing:  we were directed where to sit in the room; the front row was to be empty until certain people were chosen to sit there; the entrance of the 10 children ages 4 to 16…  clearly designed to be endearing and heartfelt… came after we were seated and we could not, but watch; the entrance of the Saint’s entourage was the agreed upon signal that silence was required… that the entrance of the tiny, beautifully robed Saint was imminent.  Her chair was front and center:  the children and their teacher were arranged to her left, and the space to the right was for us… the participants. After the Saint led a short meditation, the senior disciples would motion each row of the audience to come forth for their personal blessing.  Each individual, when directed, was expected to kneel in line with about 10 others to the right of the Saint. Each of us was to move along on our knees until it was our turn to come before Mother Meera.   With head bowed to receive her blessing, she placed her hands just above our bowed head.  It was very clear:  No words were to be spoken.  When her hands were back in her lap, we were to rise in Namaste, and walk backwards a few paces before turning and returning to our chair.   If I was nervous about orchestration, I was even more concerned with the heavy atmosphere of authority.

I did not find it a comfortable spiritual setting.  But I had willingly decided to come, if only to accompany a friend and so share expenses, making her budget stretch further.  I had read about Mother Meera several years prior to this visit, and felt honored to be allowed to participate.  I had no particular expectations, and planned only to be as open as possible to what ever transpired.  Little did I know that this meeting was to be my culminating experience in India.

The effects on my life were almost immediate.  By the time I returned to Arunachula a week later, I knew I no longer wanted to meditate.  I just wanted to Live!  In one of my final notes from India, I described a trip to Pondicherry… a five star hotel/spa with wonderful French food and a swimming pool.  I was no longer ‘in-retreat’; I was ready for the world.  Life! became my by-word.  I was to spend the next 2 years trying to understand what this could possibly mean.  The jottings in my blog that started in March 2011 document this fun struggle to understand… Life!

The struggle to understand continues.  It is not yet time to put it into words.  But my India years end here, these words of summary bring closure. I know I will happily reminisce about India in the years to come, but I doubt I will have anything to add to my India memories.