Greetings from the Land of Enchantment

"She's Holding, She's Holding. . . "

2012-01-17T10:34:00.002-07:00

If you're a trekkie, then you know to what I'm referring. If not, well, you can google it. Right now, I feel like I'm on the deck of the Starship Enterprise, trying to keep all my bits in one piece as I travel at warp speed toward a brave new future.

This morning my beloved called me, "sweet, beautiful, radiant and noble." And I am doing my best to be those things, but I'm beginning to recognize why and how women blow it. My internal response to this outpouring of devotion was, "Ack! I can't be that all the time; it's too much pressure!" My external response was a light-hearted, "I can't keep up!" To which he responded, "Really?" And I knew I was on the edge of blowing it.

The part of me that wants to just let it all hang out, the part of me that is overly attached to the notion of authenticity wants to confess all my misgivings and doubts and shortcomings; just so I can relax. But the part of me who understands the Teachings of Yogi Bhajan knows that giving in to my insecurities and exposing myself in that way, well, it would be unrecoverable.

Whether its real in the moment or not, I must be those things--even when I don't feel that I can. Even when I feel impotent and powerless in the face of my own insecurities and emotional mood swings, I still have to be radiant and beautiful and sweet and noble in his eyes.

So I'm learning that perhaps it's not containing the man that is so challenging, but instead containing our own identity--even when it feels like a scratchy wool coat when we'd rather run around naked in the sun. We have to keep up in order to be kept up!

Weddings and things

2012-01-11T09:28:00.003-07:00

I'm getting married. Never truly believed I'd be saying those words, especially at this point in my life. But there they are. And there he is, Abhai Raj Singh Ji, aka Pete Luellen, a lovely man who loves banjos (and me!).

He asked me early in the morning on December 31st, on a small hill out in the arroyos here in New Mexico. I was short of breath and cold as he began making his way down the path again until he turned to me and asked, Will you marry me? And I said, Yes. What a way to start the new year!

Thir Gar Baiso--the guru has arranged all my affairs--and I have to keep that in mind as we begin planning the wedding. Picking the wedding date has been the first of what I can only assume will be a plethora of decisions that we will have to change and adapt to. We had the "perfect" date and then his family couldn't come. We had a second "perfect" date, and my family couldn't come. So now we just have a date--and hopefully it will be perfect enough, just because our families can be here.

I woke up this morning from the first of what I can only pray will be very few wedding anxiety dreams--something about the dress--and so, the game has begun! The question is, Do I have the nervous system for it? I think I'm going to have to up the ante on my sadhana to make it through the whole thing--and still have fun! And that's the most important thing--the fun!

My niece is getting married this spring and she wanted a small, intimate family wedding, simply because she had witnessed so many big affairs in which the bride was an absolute basket! Last night I too was lobbying for an elopement, but in the end, we're hoping the big affair will be worth it.

At my age it's a bit embarrassing to admit that I still want the big party and the big dress; but I do. Having never married before, and having it come to me in such a magical way, I want to honor it by celebrating it with my family and friends and sangat. So--we're off!

Wish us luck!

Love is. . . .

2011-12-14T09:10:00.002-07:00

Love is love; Yogi Bhajan's famous definition is a reminder to me that love has no conditions, no causal relationship, no unique environment. Love is simply love. Today I found a quote from the new Rebirthing manual (it's out!) which tells of the fruits of love in a really beautiful and profound way.

"Love gives you one thing: an understanding of the other person's grace." (c) The Teachings of Yogi Bhajan, November 30, 1988

Love takes us beyond ourselves; we look and see the other person. We truly see. Instead of being blinded by our own desires and agendas, we simply see. We see their light, we see the God within them, we see grace--and we experience that grace within ourselves because we love. We love that light and we become one with that light.

To experience love within this sacred space is unlike anything I've ever felt before. There is longing; there is desire; but there is no attachment. Instead, there is a sense of flow, there is an ease, a simplicity, a grace. There is a sense of sahaj, when command and obedience are one; otherwise known as living in hukam.

Love is . . . love. All we have to do is love. Love ourselves. Love each other. Love. And in that loving, understand the grace within everything.

Remembering

2011-12-09T10:11:00.002-07:00

We have a technology in this path called naam simran, which is usually translated, remembering the name of God. In its essence it means vibrating the reality of the Guru, the Truth, in your every waking moment: from the smallest things like smelling a flower, to the repeated things like taking a breath, to the biggest decisions like where to live. Remember the name, remember the name, remember the name becomes an internal rhythm, a way of life, a way of seeing and being in the world that allows each moment to become timeless and sacred. Each moment a hologram of the whole; each moment the seed of the next; each moment an ecstasy of dwelling in the name.

So when my new love sent me flowers and included on the card words more beautiful than the flowers themselves, it seemed too good to be true: beautiful flowers to remind you of the Guru. But there it was--in writing--undeniable. The Guru has brought to me a man who reminds me to bow. For it is in my bowing, my surrender, my naam simran, that I find my equanimity, my peace of mind, my sahaj. And it is in my sahaj that that same man, my love, takes refuge.

The Guru has delivered this man to me; and so the Guru must keep him. I only need to remember the name. Remember to vibrate the name with every breath. Remember to bow. So each night I repeat the hukam that was the seed to all that now flourishes in my heart and in my life. For in repeating the hukam, I remember that everything is in hukam and I relax.

sUhI mhlw 5 ] (737-9)
soohee mehlaa 5.
Soohee, Fifth Mehl:

igRhu vis guir kInw hau Gr kI nwir ] (737-9, sUhI, mÚ 5)
garihu vas gur keenaa ha-o ghar kee naar.
The Giver has put this household of my being under my own control. I am now the mistress of the Lord's Home.

ds dwsI kir dInI Bqwir ] (737-9, sUhI, mÚ 5)
das daasee kar deenee bhataar.
My Husband Lord has made the ten senses and organs of actions my slaves.

sgl smgRI mY Gr kI joVI ] (737-9, sUhI, mÚ 5)
sagal samagree mai ghar kee jorhee.
I have gathered together all the faculties and facilities of this house.

Aws ipAwsI ipr kau loVI ]1] (737-10, sUhI, mÚ 5)
aas pi-aasee pir ka-o lorhee. ||1||
I am thirsty with desire and longing for my Husband Lord. ||1||

kvn khw gun kMq ipAwry ] (737-10, sUhI, mÚ 5)
kavan kahaa gun kant pi-aaray.
What Glorious Virtues of my Beloved Husband Lord should I describe?

suGV srUp dieAwl murwry ]1] rhwau ] (737-10, sUhI, mÚ 5)
sugharh saroop da-i-aal muraaray. ||1|| rahaa-o.
He is All-knowing, totally beautiful and merciful; He is the Destroyer of ego. ||1||Pause||

squ sIgwru Bau AMjnu pwieAw ] (737-11, sUhI, mÚ 5)
sat seegaar bha-o anjan paa-i-aa.
I am adorned with Truth, and I have applied the mascara of the Fear of God to my eyes.

AMimRq nwmu qMbolu muiK KwieAw ] (737-11, sUhI, mÚ 5)
amrit naam tambol mukh khaa-i-aa.
I have chewed the betel-leaf of the Ambrosial Naam, the Name of the Lord.

kMgn bsqR ghny bny suhwvy ] (737-12, sUhI, mÚ 5)
kangan bastar gahnay banay suhaavay.
My bracelets, robes and ornaments beautifully adorn me.

Dn sB suK pwvY jW ipru Gir AwvY ]2] (737-12, sUhI, mÚ 5)
Dhan sabh sukh paavai jaa^N pir ghar aavai. ||2||
The soul-bride becomes totally happy, when her Husband Lord comes to her home. ||2||

gux kwmx kir kMqu rIJwieAw ] (737-12, sUhI, mÚ 5)
gun kaaman kar kant reejhaa-i-aa.
By the charms of virtue, I have enticed and fascinated my Husband Lord.

vis kir lInw guir Brmu cukwieAw ] (737-13, sUhI, mÚ 5)
vas kar leenaa gur bharam chukaa-i-aa.
He is under my power - the Guru has dispelled my doubts.

sB qy aUcw mMdru myrw ] (737-13, sUhI, mÚ 5)
sabh tay oochaa mandar mayraa.
My mansion is lofty and elevated.

sB kwmix iqAwgI ipRau pRIqmu myrw ]3] (737-13, sUhI, mÚ 5)
sabh kaaman ti-aagee pari-o pareetam mayraa. ||3||
Renouncing all other brides, my Beloved has become my lover. ||3||

pRgitAw sUru joiq aujIAwrw ] (737-14, sUhI, mÚ 5)
pargati-aa soor jot ujee-aaraa.
The sun has risen, and its light shines brightly.

syj ivCweI srD Apwrw ] (737-14, sUhI, mÚ 5)
sayj vichhaa-ee saraDh apaaraa.
I have prepared my bed with infinite care and faith.

nv rMg lwlu syj rwvx AwieAw ] (737-15, sUhI, mÚ 5)
nav rang laal sayj raavan aa-i-aa.
My Darling Beloved is new and fresh; He has come to my bed to enjoy me.

jn nwnk ipr Dn imil suKu pwieAw ]4]4] (737-15, sUhI, mÚ 5)
jan naanak pir Dhan mil sukh paa-i-aa. ||4||4||
O Servant Nanak, my Husband Lord has come; the soul-bride has found peace. ||4||4||

Fair Fight

2011-12-06T15:34:00.002-07:00

I have a friend who says she doesn't really trust the friendship until it's been through its first fight and survived. I never really related. Plus you hear that in intimate relationships the fights are worth it just to make up later. That, too, I didn't really understand. In my mind, conflict-free was the ideal.

Then I survived my first real fight in my new relationship and it's been a revelation. I feel closer and more attuned to him that I did before the fight. I trust it--my feelings--more. I trust him more. It's all more real now. He was made to run the gauntlet and he's still standing--and he's still loving. To say I'm impressed is an understatement.

Being able to fight fair is crucial in a relationship. To discern what can be said and what can't; and to be able to stop yourself from saying what should never be said. These are the skills to communicating clearly, consciously and lovingly. It doesn't mean you don't use the sword; a woman's word is her sword. But it means you use it judiciously, carefully, for some words can never be taken back. You use the word to build toward something new--not just tear down something old.

In a new relationship one tends to tread lightly. But then how stable can you be be when you're standing on your tippy toes. When the proverbial rubber meets the road, you begin to see the measure of the man. And in that moment, in his willingness to meet the test, he became a giant. And I'm just enjoying the view, smile.

Renewal

2011-11-30T09:01:00.003-07:00

Strange to speak of renewal in the winter I know but each breath, each moment, is an opportunity for renewal. Long ago I gave up on perfection, but it does nag my subconscious a bit when I don't do the things I say I want to do. I have a new sadhana partner which has really helped me renew my Kundalini Yoga practice and given birth to my own personal sadhana for the first time in my 12 year practice. I'm falling in love with those early morning hours--the quiet, the sun rising through the windows, the sliver of moon setting to the northwest.

I'm beginning to understand what people mean when they say their sadhana saved their lives. I think I've been running on luck and fumes for years! But now I'm enjoying the practice and I feel renewed. A new beginning after 12 years! Everything is changing and the practice is holding me steady in the wake of my awakening--love is blooming and my heart is opening and it's exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time.

Along with renewing this blog, and renewing my relationship to love, I'm hoping to renew my writing projects and get things going on my next book that I started more than 3 years ago! While I was in San Francisco I experienced a renewal of my relationship to AA. So although winter is creeping in, it feels like spring!

Meditation on Renewal

breathe in, breathe out
something new, something old
receive and let go
live in the flow
allow life to unfold
love, behold
budding trees against stormy sky
spring comes as
winter draws near

Lesson Learned

2011-11-30T08:58:00.000-07:00

More than 12 years ago, I took my first Kundalini Yoga and Sexuality workshop from Sewa Singh Khalsa in Seattle, Washington. It was the beginning of a very long process of transformation. I remember crying, sobbing really, during that first workshop and hearing him say to the men in the room, “Look! See what you have done!” Sewa Singh went on to become one of my first teachers and has had a profound impact on my journey within this dharma. A few years ago at Summer Solstice Sadhana I took his sexuality workshop again and I’m happy to report I laughed (instead of cried) all the way through it. Something had healed within me.

But one of the things he always told me that I never really understood was what to expect from a man. He often said to me, If a man sees you and doesn’t immediately want to serve you and devote his life to you then he’s not worth your time! Well, you can imagine my reaction to such an idea. I mean, we all grow up with fairy tales but this was too much to expect, wasn’t it?

I was a woman who had spent the better part of her life “chasing” men, pouring myself out to them, longing for them, serving them, and then waking up two years later not remembering what I even enjoyed doing anymore; my entire identity having been subsumed by the man in my life. The idea that someone somewhere was out there ready to worship me just by looking at me seemed absurd.

Meanwhile, I finally quit looking. The exhausting search of my 20s and 30s over, I relaxed into my life as a single woman: teaching, training, singing, writing, cooking and laughing, lots of laughing! I still remembered Sewa Singh’s words, but I didn’t put any hope in them—not for myself anyway. I was resigned to a life on my own—and it was a good life. But then one day this fall I sat behind the Siri Guru Granth Sahib and received a message that would change my destiny—and my faith in these teachings.

As a woman in this path we are encouraged to simply radiate and be still, to allow the world, and specifically the man in our life, to orbit us. As someone who was once described as a meteor, you can imagine my dismay. This type of stillness simply wasn’t in my toolbox. Yet, I had surrendered to my life as it was and I was happy; and therein lies the key. Waiting for nothing, I received everything.

I was given this message: “I am sending your husband.” With a skill built over many years, I immediately assessed that this must be a projection of my own ego—a desire. Still something in me was curious. Then I sat down in the sangat and heard the hukam: “The bride has waited in good faith and rejoices for her husband has come.” Well, I couldn’t ignore the two events together and call myself intuitive. But I was cautious; I asked my friends to pray for me because I felt something big was about to happen.

Three weeks later I received an e-mail from a man who will most likely (if I can stay out of the way) become my husband. The Guru’s word fulfilled. And like my teacher once told me, here is a man ready to serve me, love me and devote his life to me—and I had to do what? Nothing.

Now, it would seem that this fairy tale ending is the point; but it’s not. For many of us, being single is who we are and who we will remain. The point is to give yourself to the Guru and be still. Love your life and live your identity. Everything comes and goes in its own time. Be in the flow and grow and glow. This is the way of sahaj; this is the way of the devotee; this is the way of the woman.

(A version of this story appears on the blog I AM A WOMAN)

A Year in the Life

2011-09-27T09:03:00.003-07:00

I keep thinking I should just close down this blog; but then I come back to it and realize it's a record of my life. Even as rare as the entries have become, there is a part of me here, on the page, that I don't want to let go of.

So what can happen in a year?

My puppy died.

I produced a new album, Queen Be: The Goddess Within, and grew a lot in the process.

Two of my closest friends moved away; one got married and one moved to Central America.

My family changed a lot: My nephew got married. My niece has a new boyfriend I actually like. My other nephew and I have deep conversations about life and love and faith, which I cherish. My Mom continues to serve and my Dad continues to hang in there. . . . life goes on.

I'm stepping into my identity as a Teacher. One more Immersion course under my belt: 27 days of deep transformation, exhaustion and exhilaration.

I don't write as much as I used to.

I discovered an amazing hike behind my house--where I walk for miles and miles with my dog Vinnie on Saturday mornings.

One year older, and maybe a little bit wiser, but ask my friends whether that's true or not--not me.

365 days, one day at a time, sometimes lonely, mostly not. Enjoying each day as it comes.

What do we learn in a year? That time goes by so quickly and that life is long. And that no matter how many years we have under our belts, we still long for love, for connection, for union.

We still hope.

If anyone still reads this blog--share what you learned this year with me. It's the season of harvest--what lessons have you harvested? What gifts have you reaped? I could use a little wisdom right about now....

sp

transformation and loneliness

2010-10-12T12:49:00.003-07:00

Wow--I can't believe it's been since March. I have a work blog that has diverted my attentions and life has been flying by at a clip that I often wonder how I keep up with....Lots of things have happened since March both personally and professionally. I wrote a book that was published this summer, Everyday Grace: The Art of Being a Woman. It's been interesting to see myself stepping into that identity--the graceful woman. I've been teaching a lot, I've gotten to travel some, seen my nephew get married and my other nephew leave for Zambia; my other nephew graduated from High School and my niece is getting her MBA while my other niece gets her master's in Speech Pathology. My final nephew is growing more handsome by the day and studying for pre-med. Big stuff. Oh--and did I mention I turned 42 this year!

I just got back from Mexico City, which I love. The one whom I hold in my heart is there and it was beautiful to see his life in full bloom; it was also nice to meet so many others who live and serve there. Very inspiring.

Meanwhile, my 25th High School Reunion is this weekend--ouch. Need I say more?

So we come to why I was moved to even log in today. . . . I'm lonely. For the first time in a very long time, I'm actually lonely. Something happened to me this summer (the 'event'), which has taken me to the depths of my being, to my very foundations, and I'm still integrating it. My identity is transforming and evolving in ways both unanticipated and unexpected, but not unwelcome.

Earlier this year I had a vision of myself at 42 that was a bit hard to come to terms with: I saw myself really fit--more fit than I had been since my 20s, which given how much I exercise seemed like it must be delusional. I saw myself really happy. I saw myself traveling and teaching. I saw myself at the beginning of an entirely new phase of my life. Well, here I am a few weeks after my birthday (and the 'event') and I've lost all this weight without really trying--just woke up fitting into clothes I haven't fit into in years. People keep saying how radiant I look. And I'm traveling and teaching--and usually the happiness is there, too.

But today? Today I feel a bit lost. Perhaps it's the natural rhythm of things, the low that follows the high. Or perhaps it's a quiet grief for the things I've left behind--not that they aren't better off in the past. But the ego clings to what it knows. Consciousness is much more subtle--fleeting even.

Or perhaps I simply need to sit and create. . . sing a song, write a poem, go for a long walk and experience my world, here in my own heart. Yes, that sounds right. Loneliness will melt away under the gaze of the Beloved, the open, creative heart.

OMG--Jon Stewart Is a Genius

2010-03-19T08:55:00.002-07:00

If you haven't seen Jon Stewart's take on Glenn Beck from last night show, you ABSOLUTELY must! www.thedailyshow.com

The rhetoric on the right is so extreme that it would be laughable if it weren't so incredibly dishonest, misleading, and inflammatory. The neo-cons have so lost the plot that they're inciting foreign countries to make things worse for us--the United States! Now if that's not unpatriotic, I don't know what is.

The bottom line is that the Republicans are sore losers; they always have been and they always will be. They claim fiscal responsibility while the record shows that every single Republican presidency in the past 30 years have driven the deficit up, not down. They claim social conservatism while they try to invade the private decisions between a woman and her doctor, or the dying and their doctor; and finally, between consenting adult sexual partners. Their fear and prejudice drive every talking point. They no longer even carry the pretense of wanting to govern. Why are they still considered a viable political party in this country?

Ten Years

2010-03-03T17:47:00.003-07:00

I recently returned to Seattle for my 10-year sobriety anniversary. Hard to imagine that 10 years have gone by--also hard to imagine that at 10 years sober, I'm still struggling with some of the things that have been part of my life style and habit patterns since I was a kid. But 10 years is also a great time to mark that new beginning--a new level of sobriety--a deeper layer of the onion.

I never really related to the physiological dimensions or characteristics of alcoholism. I stayed sober despite that--but it just didn't connect. But the more I struggled with sugar and what it did to my moods and my behaviors, the more I began to seek some new understanding. When I read the description of and behavior patterns of sugar-sensitive people, I thought, wow--this is me. This is who I am--and for the first time I began to relate to the physiological nature of my dis-ease. I recognized the impact it was making on my life, my identity and my consciousness.

So with 10 years under my belt, I relate to my body and its manifestations of compulsion and mood swings in a whole new way--and I'm experiencing a level of freedom I have longed for--for years!

In much the same way my teacher 10 years ago said to me about becoming vegetarian, "it's just a decision"; so too, my new mentor said to me, "do you want to live this way or not?" And with that challenge, I made the decision to no longer participate in the cycles that sugar takes me through--the depression, the misery, the agitation. I want to participate in my own life again--and today, I might just have a chance.

It will take time to establish this new pattern; but I've talked about it long enough. Yogi Bhajan often used to say, "just drop it and move on". I think I've reached that point.

May we all have the courage to live
and to live fully
may we leave behind those things that
harm -- and may we welcome with
open arms those things that truly bring us
comfort

May we love ourselves that we may
love others

May we be at peace
in our bodies
in our hearts
in our minds
and in our spirit

May we be happy

Beautiful Day--CD Release

2010-02-24T14:18:00.010-07:00

Well, the much anticipated day is finally arriving. My new album that people have been asking about for years now is finally coming out--Available March 1st from www.kundaliniresearchinstitute.org. I'll be performing in Tacoma this Friday, the 26th at 7pm, for those in the area who want a little preview. . . . otherwise, go online and then have a listening party of your own.

It's my first Aquarian Sadhana CD--and I hope it elevates your consciousness so that you can go about your life, making every day a Beautiful Day!

Blessings and let me know what you think!

Strange Dreams

2010-01-27T15:57:00.003-07:00

I'm not good at new year's resolutions. I put them off until the 6th or 7th of the month usually, just let myself have a few days to take it all in. This year, the new moon came two weeks into the new year and it gave me an opportunity to experience a second chance--already! Since then I've had a couple of strange dreams:

The first was less a dream than a thought that came to me in those waking hours--just between asleep and the alarm going off. It was the thought that I had somehow passed the test. The test of what you ask? Well, that's the strange part. I woke up thinking about life and its never-ending quest to repeat itself. The insatiable appetite for living things to replicate, create. We as animals are driven by it and to it for the better part of our lives. Its what dictates much of our behavior for the better part of 30 years or more. And yet as humans, we've freed ourselves in some way from the compulsion of reproduction. That doesn't mean that we don't reproduce, of course, most humans do. But there are many who don't. There are those who've sought a life of contemplation instead. And there are those who wasted their youth and waited too long. Either way, the compulsion, the driving narrative of the average life was averted. My desire to replicate myself in a child, to have my identity continued into the future must come through consciousness, through meditation, through reputation, through the gifts I leave behind. There will be no toe-headed, blue eyed girls running around with clefts in their chins--at least not my own. So what do I carry forward? What mark will I make? That's for history to decide.

The second dream was actually a dream and it was exhilarating. The one I hold in my heart was in the dream but the dream wasn't about him. Instead, it was as though I were a child again (even though I wasn't--but that was the feeling) and I was running through a field shouting, "I've never been happier in all my life", over and over again--and he was just watching me, bemused. I woke up with a thrilling feeling. I imagine it must be how my mother wakes up everyday--with her unmatched zeal for life. As a fairly melancholic character, it was new territory for me. But it felt great. It felt liberating to be so happy, so free, so in love with life.

So perhaps that second dream will be my belated new year's resolution. Perhaps I will simply be happy and love my life. Perhaps I'll resolve to be exhilarated--at least once a day. Sounds like a plan.

May your resolutions be resolute
may they fulfill your highest destiny
may you thrill upon awakening
and may you run like a child again
shouting for joy.
May you love and in that loving
find the good within yourself
and may that good flower
and unfold--like magic.

The Wild

2009-12-28T07:58:00.002-07:00

The Wild--a poem

There are cows in a field of snow
black and red angus to be exact
behind them lies a fallow apple orchard
in its neat, precise rows

the hand of man imprinted on the land

as I drive past my favorite
rock formation
there are pre-fab houses
everywhere

the hand of man imprinted on the land

One picturesque, one abomination
these are the polarities of man
364 days a year we bend the Earth
to our will

the hand of man imprinted on the land

but the wild
the wild is always there
one day, maybe more,
the land reminds us who owns it

no one

the arroyos swell and wash away
the stain

the fires burn and quench their thirst
with the tenderbox houses filled
with trinkets and trash
and the precious lives of men

the wild awakens in the brown bear
the mountain cougar
the lonely coyote
the Great Eagle watches

the hand of man cannot touch everything
it cannot touch the wild
man can only awaken it
within his own heart

Everyday things I love

2009-12-20T20:06:00.002-07:00

Everyday things

Once, several years ago, a friend
said to me, "your world is so small."
I agreed. But what he didn't see--what
no one sees--is that even in these small,
everyday things, this tiny little world
I dwell in, these 20 square blocks,
this well-traveled country road,
the curve of these particular mountains,
that particular body of water,
the deep lines in my brows,
the map of my hands,
the worlds within my own eyes.

These everyday things are my
universe. You see it as small; but I
have always believed that the only way
to know everything was to be intimately
engaged with one thing. To know it like
your own hand, the curve of your own breast,
the light in your own eye. These are the
things we can know. An in our knowing,
the entire play of the cosmos awakens
in our hearts.

My small world is a temple, a grand
basilica, a symphony, a song.

These everyday things give me comfort.
They are the keys to what I know of Infinity.
They are the image of God. There are no idols,
there is only the magic and mystery found
in these the most mundane of
everyday things. And my small world
is alight with the play of the Infinite
in this wooden spoon, in this rounded, smooth stone,
in this well-worn book, in this faded photograph,
and this pair of jeans, littered with holes.

Look upon your world--sing your song, build your
temple, write your symphony in the names of all
the everyday things that surround you.
This is love.

Broken Mala

2009-12-16T23:36:00.002-07:00

This morning I did a two and a half hour practice of So Purkhs with some girlfriends. It was a beautiful practice. At one point, I wanted to include my beloved in the meditation, so I reached into my bag for my mala that he had given me and it was broken. A shock went through my body because I realized I could no longer live in my projection, my fantasy (which seems to be going around these days) about him--us. Because there is no us-and there never was--yet I've lived in the idea of it for months. The mala was a way for me to remember--remember what I'm not quite sure. Perhaps it was more a way for me to dream. To be fair, it was also a tremendous tool for my meditation. I had never had a mala before he gave this one to me--and it was a tremendous awakening for someone like me, generally agitated and impatient, to simply run the beads and chant the mantra. It was such a gift--a grace.

And now it's broken. Perhaps it's a sign that I'm finally freed from my attachment to something that never was. Or perhaps it's a sign of nothing at all. It's definitely a sign that I need a new mala.

May you be freed from your attachment.
May your heart always open to love.
May your horizons be filled with
a future you long for and
may your days be filled with the
contentment of the present.
May you meditate always
and may that be the gift--the grace--
you've waited for all along.

Whip It! A review

2009-11-18T21:56:00.003-07:00

okay, so I haven't done a movie review in a long time. And it's actually been a few weeks since I saw Whip It!, Drew Barrymore's new vehicle; but it's great fun. Women in roller skates, beating up other women on skates, a young woman's empowered response to rejection and her ultimate victor. Sounds like a feel-good movie yes? It's great fun. I enjoyed every candied minute of it. Located in Austin, Texas, the gritty locale reminded me of my small town VFW Hall. And the banal, dead-end small town could have been my own hometown. All of us want to have something that we're good at. Growing up in a small town, it's never easy to find that thing that will inspire you and even break you out of what would generally be an assumed life: marriage, kids, blue-collar job, etc. This story is a fable of a young girl finding her 'thing', experiencing her first love, and finding her own voice--in the face of lost love. A dad's support is thrown in for good measure--just to make it a true fairy tale. Smile.

While I'm doing reviews--check out Modern Family--my newest favorite show. The best 30 minutes since The Big Bang Theory--at least since the days of my own big bangs...ha! I laugh the entire 30 minutes. Meanwhile I'm reading a great book, There's a place for you, about a woman's first trip to India and her discovery of herself and her mother's childhood in Calcutta.

You've got to love entertainment. Oh and I have video skype that works now...yeah! So I get to see friends, not just talk to them. . . . better than entertainment!

Closer and Closer

2009-11-18T21:37:00.002-07:00

I've been assigned something fairly unique this year at work. Along with my usual editing, marketing and fundraising assignments, I've been asked to write a book--a book about the women's teachings. It's been a great challenge; and it's allowed me to see myself in an entirely new way. Don't get me wrong, I've always considered myself a writer, that is, poet, songwriter, short essay and opinion. But to string together arguments and themes across multiple chapters and more than 40,000 words is entirely new territory.

I still wish I had the capacity for fiction,which I find to be the most sublime and moving art in the world. Plot, character development, denoument, all those elements that really bring story together--that I would still need to learn. But this nonfiction summary of the Teachings of Yogi Bhajan for women, along with my own personal experience with them, has been a great exercise and challnged me in ways I never imagined.

I'm very close to completing the final first draft. Along with this new book project, I'll also be the primary contributor to a new blog to support the I AM A WOMAN project I edited this past year, which should launch in December. I'm also completing my new sadana album, Beautiful Day, very soon; and hope to have the new CD available for Winter Solstice. To be so close to completing two projects and beginning another is exciting. For someone who considers herself a bit of a couch potato, I've got a lot going on!

Wish me luck! And keep a look out for my CD, Beautiful Day, exclusively available from KRI (www.kriteachings.org) and word of my book should be available in the spring. Also look for the launch of the new blog as well. I'll provide a link here when it's up and running.

May you find yourself approaching a long-awaited goal
May you challenge yourself in new ways
and may the fruits of your labor
bring you excitement--and joy
and may we all experience
the infinite nature of our creativity
and capacity.
May you be happy
May we all know a happiness
that only comes from a job well done....

The Eating Season

2009-11-09T10:40:00.003-07:00

We're entering the 'eating season' and it's bringing up issues that I've struggled with my entire life, it seems. I recently went on an intense food protocol and lost 15 pounds, which is a good start; but I've got a long way to go. And today, at 41, it's more about not returning to that cycle of boom and bust, emotional eating and deprivation dieting. I'm done. But part of being truly done is recognizing why I eat the way I eat--and how those patterns came to be--so that I can change them. But another part of it is imply deciding. It's almost exactly the same sensation I had when my teacher challenged me about being vegetarian, she said simply, "it's just a decision." But it takes what it takes to get to that decision and I've had years and years of struggle with depression and sugar-addiction. Now free of sugar for 28 days, I realize how much of a contributor it was and is to my depression cycles. So, if I want to be free of the cycles and no longer be a slave to my eating patterns, I simply had to decide that my relationship with sugar is negative and detrimental. I'm still working out what that will look like in the long-run. Never having sugar again? or playing with fire and occasionally allowing myself a treat?

But for now, it's been an exploration of me, my cooking habits, and real food. Here's my first successful new recipe:

Faux French Onion Soup (that tastes like the real thing!)

3-4 onions
Olive Oil
1-2 Tbs Balsamic Vinegar
3 Heaping Tbls Dark Barley Miso paste (more or less to taste)
Water
Salt or Shoyu to taste

Chop the onions into slices; brown on medium heat with olive oil until carmelized (10-15 minutes). Splash or two of Balsamic Vinegar. Deglaze the pan with water and then add more water to cover the onions and produce a broth-like texture. Simmer. Just before serving, add the miso paste. Once the miso has been added, don't bring to a boil. Serve with Swiss or Gruyere cheese melted on top and toasted, whole-grain bread. Serves 4-6. Enjoy!

The Maine Way

2009-11-04T13:47:00.002-07:00

It seems the Maine Way didn't come through on the hopes of so many gay and lesbian couples around the United States. But the problem with putting something like this to the vote is that the most progressive decisions made in America, the constitution not withstanding, are made in the courts. As Linda Hirshman so aptly discusses today on The Daily Beast, these issues shouldn't be matters of referendum. They should be decided by legislators or the court system. If we left it up to bigots to move this country forward in fulfilling the dream of the founders, "every man is equal under the law", then we wouldn't have equal rights for anyone but the white majority in this country. Saying it's a religious issue is simply a cop-out. Trust me, growing up in the South, hating black people was its own kind of religion--and prior to the protection established under the law, people used that same religion to defend their bigotry--as they are doing now with gay marriage.

Matters of justice and equality should never be put to the whims of a fearful, bigoted voter base, however sincere their vote may be. We vote for representation and we entrust those representatives to create legislation that protects the constitution and the individual from the bigotry and hatred of the masses. That's the point of the republic. Initially created to protect the white man from the heart of the equality established by our laws; we can now turn the republic's machinations against itself and use it to protect the underrepresented from the masses.

Group think is dangerous; not because it's always wrong but because, like water, it tends to move down, toward the lowest common denominator--and in this case it's pure bigotry and fear of the other in the name of religious fervor. And it's not just Christianity; every organized religion repudiates homosexuality, not because it's inherently evil but because most religions are patriarchal. Homophobia runs in its blood.

Until religious people--of every stripe--stand up and demand that everyone, rich or poor, white or black, gay or straight, is a child of God and deserves the same rights under the law and equal respect in the world, then I feel gay rights will continue to fight an uphill battle.

Today is a day that religious people everywhere should be ashamed of themselves. Love has nothing to do with bigotry. And the silent majority of religious people need to step forward and no longer allow fear and bigotry to set the legislative course in this country.

"Love is love." -Yogi Bhajan

The Veil

2009-10-08T16:33:00.003-07:00

Apologies for the long absence....lots of work...and lots of new developments. But first an item from the news. Today the esteemed Islamic University in Cairo, Al-Azhar, declared that the veil that covers the face would be prohibited in women only classes and dormitories. There's a great article about it by Asra Nomani on The Daily Beast. Here's my letter to her in response to a portion of the article:

Greetings Ms. Nomani,
I appreciated your article about the veil at the Islamic University in Cairo. I found most interesting your argument as quoted here:

“Interpretations requiring women to cover their hair in Christianity, Judaism, and Islam have been part of a wider ethos that sexualizes women and puts the moral order of the world upon our shoulders, quite literally. It’s a disturbing pattern that leads to women carrying the burden of the honor of a community. At its most tolerant, it leads to gossip and condemnation; at its worst, to honor killings.”

As an American Sikh, and hence someone who wears a ‘uniform’ of sorts, which includes a head-covering, I found your comment regarding the ‘moral order’ of society upon the ‘shoulders’ of women very interesting, especially in light of the rationale that follows it. I would argue that the most elevated (or tolerant) outcome of a woman presenting herself in a particular way is not gossip and condemnation, but rather a grace and a radiance that uplifts everyone around her—especially men. And that the worst outcome would be a hate crime like honor killings is terrifying to me. But fanaticism and corruption often have terrifying ends.

Perhaps because our cultural backgrounds are so different, and hence our experience of a particular kind of dress as alternately oppressive or strange or uplifting, my choice to wear a head covering will never make sense to you. But as an American woman, whose entire life has been surrounded by the sexual exploitation of women, women as property, women as tools for commerce, and worse, women as actual sexual slaves, the idea of wearing something that took me outside of that model, removed me, so to speak, from the mainstream interpretations of my body and my purpose as a women –to sell things—was a refreshing alternative.

I agree that it often feels extraordinarily unfair that women bear the ‘moral order’ of a society; but head covering or not, the task still falls to us. Not that men don’t bear responsibility; but they are the products of women, the husbands, brothers, and sons of women. We do, in large part, create the world we live in.

I can see that from a culture where the misogyny is so outwardly expressed—and even canonized to an extent—that the freedom of not wearing a head covering would be experienced as liberating. But from a culture where the misogyny of women is much more internalized, and expressed in exploitation and commodification of women, then perhaps you can understand the freedom that I find in wearing a head covering.

I can also wear the head covering, without the usual cultural conditions placed upon it, because I’m Western—and because the men in our communities fall under the same guidelines. They, too, wear a head covering.

Anyway, I just wanted to express how much I appreciated your article and to dialogue a bit with your conclusions regarding the ‘veil’ and how it plays out culturally, because I had never thought about the outcomes in that way. I can only speak to my own experience. I have lived fully both dimensions—and I appreciate the gifts that wearing a head covering has brought to me. But I can appreciate them as gifts simply because it’s my choice—it’s not forced upon me.

Sat Purkh Kaur Khalsa

Who knows if it's a step in the right direction for Islam? I'm sure we'll find out. But with calls from feminists to to not abandon Afghanistan and the increase of awareness around women's rights being human rights all around the world, it will be interesting to witness the affect this prestigious university's decision has on the world of Muslim women.

I (Heart) Barney Frank

2009-08-19T10:56:00.004-07:00

Bravo Barney Frank! I'm so glad someone in leadership had the chutzpah to talk back to these racist, incendiary protesters. It's unconscionable that this type of rhetoric is being displayed, along with guns and ammo, at meetings where community members are ostensibly there to discuss the details of health care reform and how it will impact their lives. Thank you Barney Frank for calling a spade a spade.

Now, if only the POTUS and his White House staff would do the same. Quit trying to be reasonable with the playground bully. Don't argue with furniture. We voted in a majority and we want that majority to deliver!

Two Things Mr. President

2009-08-18T09:04:00.003-07:00

An Open Letter to President Obama:

I sent you more money than I could afford last year because I believed in what you would bring to the table: health care reform and an end to two unnecessary wars. And up until today, I've given you the benefit of the doubt. I've waited, trusting your political instinct. But today, I recognize the democratic party of old--push-overs and pansies, unwilling to step up to the plate and swing. Perhaps, cynically, this has been the plan all along. Fight just long enough against the pharma giants and insurance companies to make it look like you gave it the old college try, but really you just cut a deal from the beginning and that was all she wrote. I would hate to think that's true; but there are many voices out there that I trust that are proposing just such a scenario.

Perhaps it's more like Afghanistan--a monster you thought needed to be fed but then it grew beyond even your grounded and even-handed policies to predict.

You didn't campaign for insurance reform--you campaigned and promised to deliver comprehensive health care reform, which must have a public option in order to actually be reform. My friend has insurance and still she owed $15,000 for her cancer treatments! My parents have Medicare as well as private insurance to cover their medicines, and they still pay $2000 out of pocket each month for medicines and at-home health care providers.

Single-payer was never part of the discussion, so there was no bargaining chip from the beginning. Now you and your health secretary intimate that even the public option, weak as it was, is probably off the table. I know you are a good man. I know you believe in what you're doing. But if the public option is off the table, you've wasted your political capital on something that will have your name on it that won't work at best and at worst will make things all that much easier to 'blame' on big government. The people you're 'compromising' with have one agenda--to kill real reform. And some of them even cynically want to kill every progressive move that's been made by our federal government over the past 70 years: social security, medicare, and medicaid. We are a great country. But we are a flawed country. And until we can look the rest of the developed world in the eye and affirm that health care is not a privilege of the wealthy or the employed, we don't deserve to be known as the 'home of the free'.

Now to the war in Afghanistan. At first I believed your counter-insurgency efforts might finally give us a chance. But after reading that the Afghan war lords would chop off the finger of any woman with an ink stain, showing they had voted, I thought to myself, why are we fighting for and in a country that hates women?!?!!! How can we continue to defend our interests in a country that so despises 50% of its population that it would throw acid in the faces of its own children? That would kill the mothers of their own children? Our men and women are dying for that?

Get Out! and Get out now! Don't let it become your Vietnam. We don't belong there; we never did. After 9/11 a lot of Americans believed that it was a transformative experience--a time to call for peace rather than retaliation. Instead of taking that chance, our then president said, "go shopping" and then proceeded to start two wars--both unnecessary and unwanted.

Fight for what we really need right now--comprehensive health care reform. Otherwise, the inspiring campaign you led; and the transformative figure you are; the light that you've brought to us all will be blown out--if it isn't already.

Thank you for listening Mr. President,

Sat Purkh Kaur Khalsa
aka Chiara C. Huddleston
Espanola, New Mexico

Oh happy day

2009-08-07T14:59:00.002-07:00

My deadlines approach along with my birthday, so I'm not having a good time, yet. But I plan to soak and sing and eat on the actual day of my birthday--so that should help to alleviate any stress I've accumulated over the past few days leading up to the big day--the day I am officially in my 40s. There's no turning back now.

And sometimes it seems there's no moving forward. Yogi Bhajan often used to talk about the importance of hope. That we actually needed it in order to fuel the present, empower the now. My life, however, remains the same. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I woke up on the right side of the grass, today. And I hope to continue for the foreseeable future. But still, there seems to be very little momentum. Perhaps because most of my adult life I've been fueled by love--or fantasies of it anyway--and nothing of that remains. Brief hints and the inner knowing that I'm finally ready, unfortunately, mean nothing in the face of destiny--and it seems that mine is to be spent without those comforts that others take for granted.

A friend said to me the other day, "everyone has their own cross to bear." And mine is pretty light compared to hunger or mental illness or war or any number of tragedies that make up human existence. No real problems--only the illusory ones of my own mind: unmet desire and unfulfilled potential. So the task is to once again, change my mind, generate my own happiness, and serve the good.

So yes, it will be a happy day when it comes. And life is good, even when we don't feel so good ourselves.

Happy birthday to me....blessed be.

Readiness

2009-07-27T14:51:00.007-07:00

My birthday is soon approaching and I get to begin talking about life after 40. Not something that anyone looks forward to necessarily; but there is a sense of calm that comes with the territory. Most of my adult life I've struggled with the societal and familial norms that were placed upon me versus my own desires and wishes for my life. Did I want to get married and have children because I was told to want those things or because I actually wanted them? As it turns out, it wasn't something I needed to figure out because it never happened. But still, a good thought experiment nonetheless.

Now, after 40, with the likelihood of my ever marrying growing statistically slimmer with each passing day, the question still haunts me. Did I want it because I wanted it--or because I was told to want it. Nature or nurture or some combination of both?

I tend toward the latter--a bit of both. It's human nature to long to bond with another person; it's the juice of life--longing, love and lineage. It's also nurture--familial expectations, societal norms, and the longing to belong. Being single, as I've written about before, is a kind of plague: terrifying to others and isolating to oneself.

If I'm really honest, in all the years I longed to be married--whether coerced by societal and familial expectations or spurred on by God-given hormones--I was never actually ready. There was always a doubt, a question: would I really be happier? It always looked so hard.

Recently I realized that despite it all--or maybe because of it--I was actually finally ready. Ready to serve someone; ready to express kindness and love in very simple, even pedestrian ways; ready to see, receive and be--love. And now that I'm ready, it would take a statistical anomaly to actually make it happen, otherwise known as a miracle. (smile) I can't help but laugh at the irony. It takes what it takes....so,

Until you're ready, wait.
Movement is only a distraction.
When you know you're ready, wait.
Stillness is the miracle.

Patience is the flower.
Contentment is the fragrance.
Grace is the garden path.

Only emptiness can manifest everything--
and don't you want everything?

One door closes . . .

2009-07-21T14:40:00.003-07:00

. . . and another door opens. I've never been a big fan of aphorisms; probably because they've never applied to me. But on this, the first new moon since Summer Solstice, I can honestly say that one door has closed--and another may be opening. Surprising.

I've been going through a deep internal process of letting go. For the past 14 days I've prayed and meditated and chanted--all in the effort to release myself from a very old pattern and invite something new in. That pattern was immediately tested--and I don't know whether I passed or failed--but the test is now behind me and today something new has begun.

As the new moon moves to full, I'll continue to chant and pray and meditate and invite in the new--and the surprising--even as I release and heal the old patterns and wounds that have kept me so stagnant for so long. As I open up to the Infinite, I recognize how limited I've been. As I open up to my innocence again, I realize how cynical I've allowed myself to become over the years. And my ego-mind says, "rightly so!". Nevertheless, it's the same pattern: attachment to that which doesn't work.

Meanwhile, soul is calling out to the universe--in all its innocence, radiance, faith and hope--and the universe may just be answering.

first steps

2009-07-20T09:37:00.005-07:00

Today is the 40th anniversary of man walking on the moon. It's also the 40th anniversary of my first baby steps in the world--and this many years later it still feels like I'm learning how to walk sometimes: how to negotiate the relationship with my family, how to bow to what is while keeping faith with what I hope for, how to be happy.

This dharma gives us lots of things to do--infinite ways to practice, to meditate, to pray, to sing. The disciplines continue on to the horizon. But the bottom line is that you have to do them in order for them to work. I feel like I'm taking those baby steps again. Keep getting up when you fall down. Keep making right effort. Keep opening the heart. Keep practicing and pretty soon I'll be up and running again.

Until then,
Be gentle,
on yourself and others.
Do one good thing for yourself
and two for someone else.
Don't think too much.
Go for long walks.
Bake muffins.
Laugh at your dog--
and listen to your cats
purrrrrrrrr.
Sing. And then sing some more.
Sit quietly and wait.
Dawn comes
and with it, the light.

Shuniya

2009-07-17T15:25:00.002-07:00

Last night I was looking into the Tratakum and experiencing a lot of anger and resentment. I was basically giving the universe the big bird. And in the middle of my emotional turmoil, I began to laugh. My life in so many ways has become an absurdist's play. Struggle and pain and tears--and it's all just in my head. Nothing is happening--and yet everything is happening all at once.

As I heard myself laugh, I realized that as natural as it is to desire; and as insistent as my mind clings to the notion of being desireless, desire is inherent even in that! No, the solution is to empty myself. Shuniya is my only solution to myself, my wants, my needs, my attachment, my addictions, all of it. The never-ending want machine that is m my mind just has to stop. Take a breath. Practice gratitude. And then empty itself again.

It's not exciting. But it is the work. It is the solution to my life today.

Pour yourself out like fine wine
at the feast
Feel yourself barren as the high desert
in winter
Remove the cloak and watch it fall
in folds upon the floor
Notice what remains and bring out your broom
and sweep it away

emptiness
the beginning of all things

On the Rise

2009-07-14T14:12:00.002-07:00

Processing processing processing...I feel like an old '80s computer--or the new vista system (smile)--with the little icon swirling and turning and keeping me from doing anything else! But at least it's moving--no longer frozen. I feel a little more like myself everyday.

I've stayed steady with my practice--even in the face of all my doubts--because I've realized that the practice and the prayer are for me. Funny, when I asked a fairly eminent teacher about someone recently, he made this awful face and recoiled. In my ignorance, I believed he was recoiling in reaction to the person I was asking about. I now recognize he was recoiling at me! (smile) It took a while but it's finally registered. I'm the one that's out of balance. I'm the one not accepting things as they are--which makes people recoil. Brings to mind the word 'cloying'. Makes me claustrophobic just saying it. But I recognize the response and I'm slowing cutting the branches away so that eventually I can reach the root--and can dig it out.

May you always give yourself the time
to see clearly
May you always practice compassion
once you begin to see
May you always merge compassion
with hope--so that you can move forward
May you always be ever rising, and free.

Gone Again

2009-07-10T11:09:00.003-07:00

I have a Patti Smith song running through my head today, Gone Again. The self-sensory human experience is really interesting. Nothing has changed, yet everything has changed. And all I can do is continue to practice. Something will shift--most likely me.

I feel completely raw--undone. Unlike a carnival ride in rural baja california, you can't stop the ride and get off. Life continues on. So, I smile. Enjoy the little things like my cat's paw lightly touching my arm--sensing I need my space but also knowing I need the touch, the affection, the small voice saying, I'm here. Laughing at my dog Vinnie's ever-present goofy smile. Enjoying the quiet of my home; but also missing the comaradarie of my guests: cooking, visiting, soaking.

Gone Again. But I'm still here, with a still small hope of love springing up when I least expect it.

Practicing Acceptance

2009-07-08T12:58:00.002-07:00

I've been working with my attachment issues lately. They could just as easily be called abandonment issues--and I find that interesting, because on the surface they seem so counterintuitive. But in the life of the human heart, one often gives birth to the other.

Originally I was going to call this post practicing non-attachment, but I realized that what I really want to practice is acceptance. Turning the language around can go a long way toward turning the mind around.

For example, I feel rejected; but in reality, I'm not rejected but rather I'm rejecting the situation as it is. I'm unwilling to just allow life on life's terms--and that's a recipe for unhappiness, which I'm not willing to participate in any longer. Such a waste of time, when I could simply be open and loving and pray for the best and highest good--for myself and the one I love. Everything else lies in guru's hands. And as my friends continue to suggest--Next!

I've never been good at next. I've always clung to the past, thinking in some way I could influence it or change it, if I only tried hard enough. Now I recognize that it's simply the way I'm wired. And the only way I can re-wire it, is to begin thinking and responding in new ways. Language is a key to that fundamental shift in perception. So, I accept that things are perfect--just as they are. I accept that relationship is wider and deeper and broader than any limited definition I might want to impose on it. I accept that I'm in the land of Big Love and everything I think I want only serves to limit that Big Love. So--I just love. And I expand. And I pray. And I wait....

...because something good is already within me and something good is always coming.

Return to Life

2009-07-07T15:42:00.003-07:00

I've come down from two weeks on the Mountain, Ram Das Puri, and the return to regular civilian life seems strange--a bit disconcerting. From living in a tent, to a house full of guests, to being back to my regular, mundane routine. Others left the mountain for fabulous places around the world--and I returned to work to write a five-year vision, which is entirely appropriate since my life is here. But this time, somehow, it just didn't seem to fit.

I feel myself trying to stretch out and beyond my normal, comfortable limits. I feel myself compelled to reach beyond my usual grasp. I feel myself wanting to expand. Maybe it was the air at Ram Das Puri. The notion of being inside now feels claustrophobic, suffocating even. I can no longer take comfort in the notion of being small. This little life, which for so long was home to me, now feels foreboding, ominous. I can't breathe.

Yet, I do. I breathe and I live and I work and I feed the animals and I catch up on the news and I bow to my life as it is. My expansion will have to arise in sadhana. My limitlessness will have to express itself through my songs. My love will have to flow through my own breath.

That breath which comes and goes and comes again. I am here--living--and it's good. I sat behind the guru on Sunday for a long time--and in that seat I recognized how much I had changed and continue to change: how much I had blossomed, how much I had left behind, and how much I still have to let go of. I saw myself for the first time in a long time--and I smiled--because life is good and love is limitless.

May your journey
always return you
to the home of your heart

and may you always
know that you have a home
in mine

Dying Wishes and Living Realities

2009-05-18T08:30:00.004-07:00

It's funny, this past week someone I've had a fleeting crush on mentioned the song that they wanted played at their wedding, which is something I haven't thought about in a while. Then this weekend, I was sitting around thinking that I'm no longer at the age where I think about what song I want played at my wedding; instead I'm thinking about what poem I want read at my funeral, Mary Oliver's A Leaf and a Cloud, if you happen to be the one to find me. (smile) Yes--the entire thing.

Life is very short. I'd like to be happy with someone; but it's more important to be happy with myself because that's all I can seem to manifest. Heartbreak is devastating--and maybe I can't go there again--or maybe it's just not meant to be. So, I think about a good death. Why so many thoughts of death on a beautiful Spring Monday Morning, you ask? Well, Saturday I saw three people who reminded me of an old friend, Ben. Ben who committed suicide several years ago--and I still can't quite seem to grasp that he's no longer on the planet. It got me thinking....

I spent many many years as a misanthrope, malcontent, generally miserable person. At the height of my youth I was either living like there was no tomorrow or wishing there wouldn't be one. Life is very short--and I wasted much of it--and continue to...old habits die hard. I see people who seem to grasp life by the throat and wish I had that zeal, that enthusiasm, that gusto--for lack of a better word. Instead, I've been a bit of a somnambulant--sleep walker.

I was sitting in gurdwara yesterday and this question kept coming into my head: What are you doing here? At first I thought it meant, here in the gurdwara, a Sikh, a yogi, a single woman. And then I realized it was just that same old question that's been haunting me my entire life: What am I doing here? But you see, this is fundamentally the wrong question. And my disciplined mind recognizes that--but the old habit dies hard--and my misanthrope wants to return there to that empty, meaningless question. How do I make it work for me, instead of sapping me of every ounce of energy I have left?

Change it. What do I want to do here? The only answer I have is to sing and to laugh--and possibly, with luck, to love. I suppose that is my living and dying wish.

May you ask the right questions.
May you receive an answer
from your deepest truth.
May you live a good life
and may you die a good death.
May you awaken
and may you laugh, always laugh.
Sat Nam.

Tiptoeing

2009-04-24T13:58:00.002-07:00

Well--it's been a full month since I last posted anything. I think this officially means I've lost my touch as a blogger. I used to have something to say about everything! But now I just can't seem to make myself write about anything. Two reasons prevail among all the myriad reasons:

1. I've been pretty happy lately--and I tend to write from frustration or sadness--sigh
2. Now that I'm struggling (again) I don't really want to admit it!

I've been looking at a lot of my patterns, desire, failure, isolation, success and wondering how it all fits in one person, one personality. I'm once again experiencing desire after a long and happy time of pure present awareness, being content in my 'single' state; and I'm once again angry at myself for having feelings that have no rational cause, no real purpose and no happy ending. I'm 40 for God's sake--do we never tire of it? Evidently not.

I'm once again in the middle of a project that's blown up in my face; and I'll once again not make my deadline. Dreadful at this stage of the game and in my career to not be able to come through.

I'm once again noticing my fear of commitment and recognizing that it's the root of my inability to make that connection that we're all supposed to want--and which I wane and wax with like the tides. The pain of separation (or the chance of it) still makes the joy of being together seem small in comparison.

And I'm once again trying to temper all these mixed emotions with the reality that my life--exactly as it is--is just fine. Sure my cats are throwing up all over the house because it's spring and that's what they do. Sure my dog still manages to get out of the yard and harass my neighbors. Sure I'm lonely sometimes. But the reality is that in the face of what and who I could be at this point, I'm a miracle and my life is witness to the work of the hand of the Guru. Bottom line: I'm blessed.

So why do I feel like I'm tiptoeing around my own consciousness, my own feelings, my own desires? Why am I still asking why--after all this time?

All I can do is continue to breathe--and continue to put the next foot in front of the other and hope that something good this way comes.

May you be blessed.
May you receive every
feeling, desire, and
discomfort
as a chance to dig deep
to know the root
and to water it or pull it out
May you fill your world
with the power of your prayer
and may that prayer
be received
and answered
in a good way.
Remember: "All things come from God
and all things go to God."
Sat Nam.

New Song!

2009-03-24T11:24:00.003-07:00

Hey everybody--I have a new single, Jai Ma!, available exclusively at the Kundalini Research Institute Website: http://kriteachings.org/iamawoman/audio/iamawoman_dwnld.htm

This week all donations go to The I Am A Woman Project; but after that it will be available for sale at The Source: http://thesource.kriteachings.org/

Thanks to friends who helped me pull it together:

Jon Gagan: Engineer
Dharm Singh: Guitar
Gurudarshan Singh: Drums and percussion
Har Pal Singh: Tabla and background vocals
Hans Raj Kaur: vocals

I could use your support--please let your friends and students know it's available. Just one song broke the bank--and I'd like to do a second full-length CD, so this is my way of fundraising for that larger project.

Blesings to you all and I hope you enjoy the new track!

Even Longer

2009-03-24T11:13:00.002-07:00

Wow--it's been even longer since the last time I wrote...I'm losing my touch. Actually I've been really busy--and I think of things to write about--but then don't make the time to sit down and actually do it.

Various topics that have crossed my mind to write about but never made it to 'paper':

Intellectual crushes: Paul Krugman and Reza Aslan
All the many ways I've fallen in love
Meditations on walking in Northern New Mexico
Feminism and the lack thereof
Politics Politics Politics and Death to the Republican Party
The Ugly Face of Fanaticism versus the Truth of Religion
Friendship--the beginnings and the endings
I (heart) TV--and all my favorite new shows
The genius of Dwayne Johnson--that's right, The Rock

All these and many more. . . . oh well.

At least now I have a list of things I can write about in the future!

Happy Spring!

Time Flies

2009-02-06T18:54:00.003-07:00

Well, it's been over a month since I last wrote. Busy, busy, busy. But I was reminded today that people read this blog--so I should do my part by writing!

What to say though? Ode to lost love? Backlog of movie reviews? Speculation about the economy? Report on work in progress? Missive about how exhausted I am--all the time?

They all seem, how to say it . . . mundane. Inspiration has eluded me; and clearly eludes me still. Hence--no entries of late. But I will say that despite how small my life feels sometimes; I know, somewhere in my bones, that it's bigger than I can even imagine. I've had those moments. I'll have them again. And in the grinding routine that is my life lately, I know I'm in that moment, even now.

How can I know this? Because I remind myself how extraordinary this journey is--and how rare it is to be here. At times, my awareness of the divine would depend on something as simple as a warm breeze passing against my cheek while I waited at the bus stop. Other times, I've experienced the extraordinary beauty of the universe--and laughed. In between there's been music, long walks, the perfect chocolate bar, homemade soup, brief attempts at love, and other sundry human delights.

I will most likely never have the life that other people lead--husband, children, grandchildren--but the life I have is filled with another kind of love, a love beyond kinship or tribe or nationality. A love that is both lonely and raw and exposed, and exquisite and subtle and sublime. A love that expresses itself on my breath and over my tongue, through my voice. A love that reminds me not what I want or need but what I have to give. A love so fierce that it takes my breath away. A love that cannot stay, yet has nowhere to go.

So--what do all these ramblings of mine mean? And do they serve any purpose? Only to remind you that this love is within you, too.

Breathe deeply
open your arms
and in the pure joy
of a child greeting the sun
smile
and remember how big
your heart
really
is

Happy New Year!

2009-01-02T17:02:00.003-07:00

Well, a day late, but still...blessings to you all for a prosperous and peaceful new year. I don't have any profound words of wisdom to share other than the few insights I've gained for myself as I approach this new season, new year, new cycle.

I turned 40 last summer, so this new year has somehow garnered more attention from me than past years. Although it's futile to try to ascribe more meaning to it than years past, I've found myself going down that dead-end road despite myself in addition to my usual end-of-year malaise. So, it's been an interesting period of time. Moaning and bemoaning the political atmosphere worldwide; questioning religion and my faith in general; grieving the weight of my father's illness and not knowing how to support my mother through her tears... all these things were weighing on my mind as I approached the new year. And in the wake of all this confusion, guru has blessed me with some rather simple, but clear insights.

Politics: don't flail in naivety nor give-up in cynicism. Stay awake and aware and neutral.

Religion: there's no great mystery; there's no one great answer; there's simply the discipline of happiness. "live for each other" doesn't apply to married people alone--I, too, can live for others and with that simple guideline unlock the door to my own equanimity and peace of mind.

Family: just continue to pray because that's all you can do.

And finally, just sing....it's my job to sing. It was given to me and I must give it back....and maybe even produce another album this year.

Best Christmas Ever

2008-12-26T12:53:00.003-07:00

Well--okay, not the best Christmas ever; but I did get a harmonium AND saw this video from the marines based in Fallujah.

Cut and paste in your browser for proof that irony is on the rise:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L7X14U2qcFY

blessings to you this holiday season!

Pusher Man

2008-12-26T12:15:00.003-07:00

I read an outrageous article today on the Washington Post: the CIA has been using Viagra and other male performance-enhancing drugs to win over the Taliban. Who knew that all we needed to offer them was a hard on? Not food, not schools, not peace. Just one rousing night and they hand over all kinds of evidence: names, locations, etc. Incredible--in the most literal sense of the word--without credibility.

As a woman, I am continually amazed by the singular focus of the common male psyche. Hard to believe so much rides on that 'little piece of meat' as Yogiji would say. (pun not intended)But there it is, once again.

The illegality of handing out prescription drugs is just the cherry on top of the turd pie that is US Diplomacy. Internationally, the US has always been known for pushing its culture out into the wider world, distorting traditional cultures and forever changing the way the world eats, spends family time, travel, etc. But now, to have such an explicit example of 'pushing' the ultimate narcotic--a man's ego....wow. And we criticize Afghanistan for growing poppy.

Good thing irony is making a comeback.

Pandering

2008-12-19T09:40:00.002-07:00

I have to admit that I'm discouraged--and not by this alone. Initially, I decided to respect Obama's decision, to give him the benefit of the doubt. As I've found myself doing repeatedly throughout this transition period. But in the end, I agree with Glenn Greenwald, if the left, liberal, whatever you want to call people who just generally feel like the government shouldn't be messing with individual lives and choices(hey wait! isn't that a conservative principle? Now I'm getting really confused)continue to kowtow to the right's divisive, hate-mongering in the name of 'morality', we've already lost--and will continue losing the 'battle for the minds and hearts of Americans'.

Why is it okay to be a christian and be filled with hate? I grew up in a church like Rick Warren's. I grew up with people who were 'good, kind, decent' people who in the same breath had no qualms about condemning half the world. It is a fundamental flaw in the interpretation and practice of christianity. And in the same way this kind of perverted christianity has been cultivated here, so has islam been twisted around the world. Or perhaps it's just a fundamental flaw of religions in general.

In fact, if you look at the historical record, universal respect for human dignity, tolerance and peace are humanist principles, not religious principles. They have grown within the psyche and collective consciousness of the human race despite religion--not because of it. It's time we 'liberals' claim the right to fight for our principles as vociferously as the 'right' claims theirs. Why is it acceptable to deny science and promulgate ignorance and myth as fact? Why is it acceptable to universally and unapologetically deny an entire class of people their rights based on what they do in the privacy of their own homes? Why are these arguments even accepted as reasonable public discourse? Why isn't it called what it is? Hate-mongering, ignorance, and zealotry.

Choosing Warren feels like pandering. And it doesn't feel too good.

War Crimes

2008-12-17T10:16:00.003-07:00

I'm stunned at the dialogue going on over the past 48 hours since Cheney's public admission of what once garnered a death sentence in this country--the promotion and protection of water boarding as a 'heightened' interrogation technique. It's surreal. And I think it's the most menacing thing that this particular presidency has manifested. It's not that the United States government hasn't been doing heinous things for the hundreds of years we've been around, we have. But it used to be covert. We used to have the 'decency' to cover it up.

The Bush-Cheney legacy will be many things, but the grossest exploitation of their cynicism will be this: We will do what we want and the American people, the world, be damned! His admission on network television that he supported and still supports acts of torture, holding prisoners indefinitely, and going to war without cause should have warranted an arrest--right there on national TV. Instead it's a big F--- You to the incoming presidency and the people of America; because he knows he won't be charged with war crimes, he knows the American people won't demand it, he has successfully lulled us all to sleep--and intends to keep us there.

Over the years, as I look at the movement of social history, politics, and more, I have always held the view that despite appearances, things get better. I don't know anymore. If the leader of supposedly the 'freest' nation on Earth can go on national TV and admit to war crimes, knowing that nothing will be done about it. Well, then they've succeeded beyond their wildest dreams. They don't need to make us into machines or automatons that the sci-fi films warn about; they've just made us into children, good little boys and girls, powerless and clinging to wanting everything to just be 'okay'. It's the same tactic that has been used over and over again against any group that wants to have a voice: women, blacks, Native Americans, you name it. And now it's been done to all of us.

Meanwhile, we only have our own 'war crimes' to take care of: our small minds, our petty desires, our inner anger, our hubris, our greed. A great man once said, be the change you want to see. For my part, I'm having a hard time looking in the mirror lately.

Anti-War and other sugar plums dancing in my head

2008-11-18T10:48:00.001-07:00

There have been several post-election interviews with Bill Ayers, former Weather Underground member, and all of them have repeatedly evidenced the nuanced intellect and integrity of a man who refuses to espouse idealogy over the facts as he sees them, versus the hysterical rhetoric of a neo-con movement gone bankrupt and a media that doesn't know how to discern and dismiss topics that don't warrant their time. That said, it's been interesting to hear the anti-war themes from the 60s being repeated today, but in a different atmosphere and a different time. Winter Soldier is being relived as former Iraq and Afghanistan soldiers come home from their tours and speak of the unspeakable. Anti-war sentiments given new life by the devastating injuries that young men and women come home with--injuries they never would have survived 40 years ago from another unwanted war.

As our President-elect warns of renewed efforts in the field of battle along the Afghan-Pakistan border, I am already weary. There are no winners in battle. There is only the prudent policy decided after the fact--after thousands are dead, after hundreds are raped, after so many tortured, after homes are lost and communities destroyed--to end what should have never begun.

The 6th Sikh Guru, Hargobind, was the first guru to take up arms and become a great soldier. And as I look at my long history of passivism as a guiding philosophy (my own personal temperament not included--ha!) over the particular faith I've adopted, I wonder: Yes, there are things worth dying for; but are there things worth killing for? There's the rub--as another writer once said.

One assumes that most of the time, dying versus killing are moot points on the battlefield, indistinguishable from one another.

But there is one front that we can always succeed in: uplifting women, educating children, and helping the leaders in any given community come to serve themselves. Three Cups of Tea by Mortensen and Relin has shown me that it's possible. Yogi Bhajan's longstanding policy that if we elevated women, we could change the world also points the way.

Until then, we wrestle with our conscience and we try to fit our policy onto forms that don't work--post nationalist policy on ancient tribal fodder. It's never worked--and it won't now. We can only stand down from our lofty rhetoric and ask the simple question: What would be best for everyone? And begin to make that happen.

Happiness Runs in a Circular Motion

2008-11-13T11:40:00.001-07:00

Fall is always a challenging time for me. The weather grows cooler and the wave of community events slows down and I retreat somewhat. It's a good time to take my spiritual temperature, so to speak. I've noticed that like most people, I tend to want resolution. I want to feel that something is done--complete. So my awakening earlier this spring, I hoped, marked the end of depression, melancholia, only to have it return again. My inspiration last winter at the Golden Temple, that deep transformational healing, I thought would never need to be revisited. Yet, here I am again.

It leads me to just remind us--and myself--to take it easy. Compassion begins at home and the journey toward Self, is a spiral that continues to rise, but too often feels like it's treading familiar, unwanted territory. So--a call to all of us: reject nothing, embrace everything, and keep returning and returning to the feet of the guru, bowing to our truest self, and practicing contentment--even in the face of sorrow, grief, or pain (especially when it's self-inflicted (smile)).

Resistance is futile....live in the flow of life. Receive its many blessings, surrender to its many sorrows, and laugh as often as you can.

A question of parenting

2008-11-12T12:33:00.002-07:00

In the wake of such a wonderful reawakening of the American spirit, the election of Obama, there is also a tremendous grief at the civil liberties still being denied to people--from the arch conservative hills of Arkansas to the progressive shores of California. But a deeper shock hit me when I read the amendment that recently passed in my sister's home state of Arkansas. Not only did they deny parenting rights to gay people, but also single people (just to be SURE that no gay person could parent). But in their zealotry to deny parenting rights to people that they for whatever reason have taken upon themselves to disparage and hate, they have also denied me my right to parent.

I am single--and although I have always sensed the true nature of cultural pariah that it was--I've never believed it warranted having my civil liberties removed. Evidently Arkansas thinks otherwise.

My sister's only response was, 'well, we're pretty conservative here.' And in my effort to not completely deny her place as my family, I simply replied, 'that's one word for it.'

For myself, I have always gone back and forth between wanting to parent and accepting what life has given me. But in the face of having that right denied, I'm taken aback. What about my never having married makes me less capable of loving a child, or providing shelter and security, or just plain wanting to help someone who has either been abandoned or left behind by tragedy. The state of Arkansas says, too bad, you're not human enough to parent. Well, here's a big "F--- You" to the State of Arkansas and anyone who believes they have the right to determine who's human enough to be deserving of the full expression of civil liberties here in the United States.

How Poetry Saved My Life

2008-11-10T14:00:00.003-07:00

I came of age in the Reagan era. Greed was 'in'. Arts and Music were abandoned for the baser themes of money and power and I, of course, never fit in. I stood and stared agape at the yellow ties and blue blazers of young republicans who espoused 'christian' values and then went about scourging the 'welfare' state and all things progressive or open-minded. It was a dark time.

Today things are different--or soon will be. But still I find my heart is drawn backward, to these dark days, these questions of hope and doubt still warring. In part, it is because of my own impotency in the face of these questions. Though a progressive in spirit, I am a homebody by nature; so my desire for a new world, a more just world, is met not with action but with paralysis. And I loathe myself for my inaction; but find myself, nevertheless, powerless in the face of it. Old habits die hard and a life of passivity is not overcome by a singular figure of hope and transcendence; but instead by one day a time, making the effort to do something differently.

Until then, until the will to act overcomes my lethargy and fear, I have poetry. I have that one line that can lift my spirits and take me out of myself and my own 'tiny' world into the greater world beyond the limits of my own skin, my own imagination, my own despair. That greater world can be the observation of a spider or the musings of a master on death. Either way, that single line, that turn of phrase, that world revealed can transform me like nothing else. It can bring me flight when I feel that my spirit will never fly again. It can provide clarity when it seems nothing will ever make sense again. It can deliver hope --and open the door to love-- when it seems like my heart will never recover. In the face of profound sadness, it can make me smile again.

Today there is a sadness in me that feels impenetrable; but I know that a morning spent with Billy Collins or Mary Oliver will somehow provide me with just enough thread to spin a cocoon around me, giving me the space to heal, to curl up with not just my pain but also a truth that's beyond me and my own particular wound, so that with time I will emerge again, a butterfly, delighting in the world, spreading my wings, and floating on the warmth of a spring wind.

It has saved my life before
may it save it again
and may we all
through darkness and shadow
and lightness and delight
remain at the feet of the one
who delivers us through it all
and may that one be
celebrated and praised
through the word
the line that weaves its way
into the heart of darkness
and merges with it
a thread of hope

Breathing Room

2008-11-07T11:45:00.002-07:00

One watches the political process in America and wonders, "Can't you just give a guy a break?" In less that 24 hours, talking heads from both the right and the left are slicing and dicing when there isn't even anything to cut into yet--and you realize, sitting in your office or at home, that it's all just spin. They have to talk about something--so they just attack because that seems more 'newsworthy', more 'neutral'. It is the demand of the medium itself--the 24-hour news cycle.

But even beyond the demands of the medium, it is a mind-set, cultivated for so long that even as 'change has come', we remain the same.

But somewhere in the middle there has to be some breathing room, some rational discourse, some simple foot work. Without clinging to ideals nor abandoning them to greed and opportunism, without crying out "I'll walk through hell before I allow x, y, or z" and thus completely undermining someone's caliber and capacity nor placing someone on such a high pedestal that they're bound to come tumbling down. Imagine giving someone the benefit of the doubt. Imagine a life of neutrality: moving from the negative to the positive and then acting from the neutral.

It happens everywhere--not just on the grand political stage but also in the mundane, everyday life. But perhaps as we watch a true leader rise above the fray and dialogue and listen and then act, we, too, will have an opportunity to mature, to grow up, and to give ourselves and each other a little breathing room.

A many splendored thing

2008-11-06T15:08:00.002-07:00

love itself is vast. . . . but loving someone is specific and even when they're gone, it's those little things that we remember; it's those things we miss:

his voice, like a brook, a thrill of babbling water over rock, whether singing old lyrics from 70s songs or rhymes about exotic animals in spanish

the flutter of his fingers after he ate, meticulously neat--and yet not

his goofy, quirky expressions

his razor sharp intellect

his beautiful, open smile

the way he would call and respond to himself in his daily ardas

the way he always ended his practice with long time sun, even though he was by himself--always remembering his teacher and blessing him--amazing

the lightness of his touch

the smile in his eyes

the way he made me laugh

his devotion to the goddess

his mercurial, curious mind

the breadth of his understanding and compassion

the depth of his surety, his rightness

the willingness to change his mind

his broad shoulders, the curve of his spine

his sadness

his tenderness--to everyone

his attention and his inattention

the line of his nose

the fullness of his lips

the neutrality and the passion

the hello and the goodbye

weeeeeeee--the pure pleasure of the moment

the thrill

and the quiet

the ease of sitting beside him

I miss these small things and more

and then try to remember . . . love is vast

A New Dawn

2008-11-05T15:33:00.002-07:00

"it's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life . . . for me." I've quoted this song before for more personal reasons, but it applies today as well. It's a new America--one that I can finally feel a part of.

Thank you! God bless Barack Obama. May he be safe. May he be great. And may we prove worthy of him.

The American Way

2008-11-03T14:45:00.005-07:00

After hours and hours of watching the political machinations of each party going back and forth, I continue to remain stunned by the Republican Party rhetoric. Granted, I grew up in a republican household, upper-middle class, and have spent the better part of my adult life ashamed of my privilege (that was hard-fought for by my parents, both of whom grew up in lower-middle class families but later became republicans), running toward the principles that I believed created a more just America--and still do. Why my parents abandoned their labor roots I still haven't quite figured out.

(The last morsel of hope I had has been quashed by my father's illness--he would have voted for Obama, instead he's still in the hospital. My mother remains adamantly republican, god help us.)

Nevertheless, there's a lot of garbage being bantered about by the Republican machine lately--socialism, the progressive income tax being re-engineered by their spin machine as 'the dole', which is just another euphemism for welfare (and racism and class war) and more. It's insane, outrageous, incredible -- and I mean that in the most literal sense -- without credibility.

The 'american way' that everyone, especially the republicans like to wax nostalgic about, was built by the progressive income tax. We would never have built the wealth and the prosperity in this country without it. And in fact, we are seeing the fruits of an unfair tax code right now--the rich getting richer, the poor left behind without any real hope of entering into the prosperity that is 'the american way'.

The progressive income tax was instituted by a Republican President--Teddy Roosevelt. He saw the excess of the upper 1% as the potential breakdown of american freedoms and he instituted a progressive tax that would allow services and access to the middle class for everyone. And now it's socialism?

One of my favorite slogans I've ever seen lately was this: The Labor Movement--We're the one's that brought you the weekend. Without the policies and leadership of Government--BIG government--we wouldn't have the fabled 'american way' that the republicans like to take credit for and yet undermine with every deregulation code they support and every cynical, snide comment they make about 'liberal'. When did 'liberal' become a bad word? When did tolerance and civility leave the public discourse? As Obama said the other day, When did selfishness become a virtue?

The progressive income tax along with all the other social nets that governments--both republican and democratic--have instituted over the past 100 years are what created this place we call America. They are what created opportunity, prosperity, consumer safety (Can anybody say melamine?), flexibility, upward mobility, and all the standard bearers of the middle class way of life.

For the republican party to undermine these most fundamental principles and foundations of the middle class here in America shows me that not only have they lost their way, they've lost the plot.

Faith, Religion and Culture

2008-10-27T16:12:00.004-07:00

I've been obsessed with the coverage of the election--to the point that I have no life outside of working and going home to catch up on what's happened. However, in the maze that is the CNN/MSNBC/Salon/Huffington coverage, I recently witnessed a clip of a 'pastor' opening up for McCain over the weekend. He was praying that 'God' would intervene; that in fact, 'god's reputation' was on the line and he had to show up and out do these other people's gods, and I quote, "like hindu, buddha, allah". Well, unfortunately only one of these is actually a named God, the other is an umbrella term for a religion that has a pantheon of gods and the other is the name of a great teacher who said that god was unnecessary to a mind that had reached equanimity and enlightenment.

It got me to thinking about my own ecumenical religious history: raised as a fundamentalist Christian, then went through a Native American phase, read Buddhist philosophy for many years, tried my hand at Sufism, and eventually landed here--a Sikh (which makes sense in the end, yes? Sikh is just another name for Seeker of Truth.).

But more than just reviewing my personal religious history, I began to reflect on the notion of devotion and the intellect and how it's played out in the two religions I'm most familiar with (outside my own sikhism): Christianity and Buddhism. Buddhism is often described as non-theistic. There really isn't a 'god' in this tradition; however, there is an aspect of faith that arises, but only after years of practice and disciplining the mind. That is, devotion is considered an advanced practice, only pursued after years of working with the mind and its thoughts. Once you've attained a certain discipline over the mind, THEN you pursue visualization practices that incorporate the gods and goddesses of the Buddhist pantheon. But more importantly, you cultivate a faith in yourself. Devotion is the end of the journey, not the beginning.

For my part, I always struggled with Christianity because it required an absolute measure of faith without having any disciplines or practices to cultivate said faith. I couldn't make the leap. Christianity demands absolute devotion from the beginning. There's very little real estate for doubt or questioning or room for points of view, especially in the twisted version of Christianity being pedaled today. No room for the intellect, for reason, for thoughtfully agreeing to disagree. Because of this, I always preferred the christian contemplative writers: Thomas Merton, C.S. Lewis, Simone Weil, and others. They seemed to have navigated this notion of devotion as well as cultivated a practice, a discipline that brought them to the necessary faith as an end to their devotion--not the beginning.

The culture of Christianity today, especially as its represented by the Republican minority (silent majority is no longer your purview conservatives!), has become a twisted and perverted notion of what I know is true religion: devotion that expresses itself as compassion.

As for my religious identity today, it too requires a great deal of devotion, but that devotion is married to a practice that balances the body and the mind, calls for self-reflection and surrender, and devotes itself to principles of meditation, service, and right livelihood. Again, devotion as a bi-product of discipline.

Perhaps this is the key to maturity in one's faith: Devotion is the end-game not the beginning. Faith is acquired not manufactured. And Truth is practiced, in the beginning, in the middle and in the end.

Yes We Can!

2008-10-21T10:41:00.004-07:00

A little election humour from a friend:

Five Things I Can Count On--and One Big Surprise

2008-10-21T09:31:00.002-07:00

There are a few things I can count on in my life...and then there are the occasional surprises.

1. My father will always say, I love you, before we hang up the phone.
2. My mother will continue to find me alien and extreme--nothing like her (smile)--and do her best to love me anyway.
3. Here in New Mexico, it will always be cold by October and the sky will continue to take my breath away.
4. I will remember your birthday--sometimes.
5. I will always fall for the wrong guy.

But the big surprise is one I've prayed would happen for a very long time. My father, a confirmed, fiscally and morally conservative Republican, will be voting for Obama this year (if we can get him to the polls).

Oh! So here's the sixth thing I can always count on--miracles never cease!

A Bottomless Sadness

2008-10-16T20:18:00.002-07:00

It's been an interesting couple of weeks--and the further I get away from this most recent 'ending' the sadder I become. They say time heals all wounds--so why is mine growing deeper with each passing day? My friend suggested that I'm not sad about this latest chapter, but instead the entire narrative. I'm grieving not this particular man, with his particular habits, which I particularly miss, but instead I'm grieving something greater. She suggested I simply dive in. Swim toward the bottomless sadness and come out the other side.

After India, I didn't believe I would ever find myself here again. I felt that the cloak of melancholia had been lifted for good. But that's just another false hope, another trick of the mind and its attachment to what it wants (happiness--which ironically enough is available--just not through attachment--sigh).

Actually I feel like I'm grieving for myself. For my continuing to pursue happiness outside myself, for my grasping at hope instead of allowing faith to take my hand and simply lead me, for believing--again.

I can't be too hard on myself--I follow my heart. But the consequences grow heavier as I grow older. And as I look to the coming days and weeks as fall becomes winter, it is only a metaphor for myself. But then, so too is spring--and spring comes--doesn't it? Smile.

My Republican Mama

2008-10-14T09:06:00.003-07:00

There's a great line in this clip: Even my republican mama is going to vote for Obama. . . .I hope it's true of my republican mama, too.

Check this out (You'll have to cut and paste. I'm not technie enough to create a live link for you, sorry):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ycu0sy5RW8&eurl=http://www.dailykos.com/

Prayers for my Father

2008-10-13T12:14:00.003-07:00

Update on my Dad's health: many of you know that he broke his hip in early September. Well, that put him in a wheelchair much more than he has been in the past year. He developed pressure contusions and has now contracted a very dangerous form of staph. He is in a long-term care facility for the next month, taking IV antibiotics and allowing the wounds to heal.

Please send your prayers out to him and to my family. thank you and blessings,spkk

The Prayer of Peace

2008-10-13T10:07:00.003-07:00

There are many things you can do when people ask you for prayers. Sopurkhs, the Anand Sahib, Shabd Hazaare, among many others. I've practice each one in different ways and for different reasons. But recently, there is a heaviness on my heart that the usual practices don't seem to alleviate. I asked a friend and mentor what she thought I should do and she suggested Sukhmani by Guru Arjan. It's a very long prayer--and my lack of discipline balked. Then I took a hukam--and opened to one of the Ashtapadis from Sukhmani. Then I took another hukam--and opened to the final Ashtapadi. So--third time is charm. I get the message.

Sukhmani is a prayer for peace, but it's also a prayer for deep, transformational healing and grace.

So I dedicate this prayer to my father's healing, to my beloved's healing, and to peace throughout the world as we approach election day.

Sat Nam.

The God Realm--a Poem

2008-10-10T10:43:00.006-07:00

The God Realm

like Brahma
he sits and meditates
the world into existence
spontaneous, rising
and falling
thought weaves his
world into being
--the yogi and the mountain

like Krishna
he loves the dancing ladies
the world an intoxicating
flow of stimulation
cessation and creation
existence and nonexistence
balanced on the top
of the world
--the razor's edge

like Shiva
he covers himself in ash
and runs through
the markets
his manhood stiff
with the excitement and fear
of destruction, desolation
--a recapitulation

The god realm
woos the wounded soul--
leave behind the small
pleasures of the human
life--the simplicity of
tenderness,
a shared gaze,
a secret smile,
a quiet whisper,
the lightest touch
in the middle of the night
when darkness has taken over
not just the skies
but the heart.

one who can relish these
simple, human things
holds the key
to happiness

Rain

2008-10-09T14:12:00.006-07:00

Maybe it's the rain and the sky here with the clouds heavy but light still surrounding them, in pink and blue relief; maybe it's the constant singing of gurbani; maybe it's just gurprasad (god's grace); maybe it's pure exhaustion; but the experience of being flooded by light and love--the nectar--is overwhelming me.

We complete the Guru Ram Das celebrations this evening with more kirtan and more food. The past couple of days have brought powerful visualizations to me during the meditations--almost as if I were seeing a movie in my head. They begin as prayers but then become something separate from me, from my intention. They form spontaneously, autonomously--and then I just continue to meditate on the image.

It feels as though I am being shown the possibilities of living consciously. That it is real; it's attainable.

I was telling a friend of the God-shaped hole. We spoke of all our attempts to fill the hole with love, with discipline, with drugs, anything really, but that's the point, yes? It's God-shaped. Nothing can fill it but God. But if we're lucky, we get to circle the abyss again and again and again and as we come closer to the edge--and peer fearlessly into the cold chasm--surprise, we see only our Self. And, hopefully, by the time we reach that edge, the face looking back at us has a wry grin, or at least a compassionate smile.

The fear of looking is soooo real. When I was younger, I recall writing a letter that described my emotional state as sitting on a boil, a cauldron, a boiling, stuttering, sputtering stew. I wanted to write it down so that I would remember it someday. Recently, someone described their mental state as sitting on the top of an active volcano--and I remembered my letter to myself, years ago. Last night's meditation transformed this particular image for me and showed me the creativity that lies within the passion of the volcano, the boiling stew. As I meditated with Dhan Dhan Ram Das Gur, I visualized my friend sitting atop the live volcano and I began to pray that the nectar of God's Name, God's Mercy, and God's Grace, rain down, pour over him. This was just a simple prayer for grace, for mercy, for being covered.

Rain poured and poured and poured until the volcano cooled enough to form land, a nectar tank formed in the crater, and the land blossomed and bloomed with every green thing--like a Maurice Sendak illustration--meanwhile the yogi simply meditated.

I realized that my own transformation from the boiling cauldron to the calm lake (okay so I'm pushing the metaphor for those of you who know me) had come with years of mistakes and suffering; but more often than not, from simple and pure-hearted surrender. Surrender to what was beyond the fear. Surrender to my highest identity. Surrender--even when you don't have the courage to look. Just jumping and trusting Infinity to carry you.

The boiling cauldron doesn't go away; the volcano remains awake; but with enough grace (and enough cool rain) like everything it evolves, it transmutes, and becomes the fire of creativity, the passion of just causes, the heat that purifies the mind, and the flame of Love for the Divine.

May you burn
burn so brightly
that your presence
lights the darkest
corners of the mind

May you burn
burn with a flame
of truth that allows
nothing small
nothing hidden

May you burn
with a love
for the Self
so strong, it requires
nothing else

May you burn
so true
that you
become
you

The Swan--a Poem

2008-10-08T16:56:00.001-07:00

The Swan
by Sat Purkh Kaur Khalsa

The soul--the swan--
that white bird of purity
that crosses the ocean
of consciousness
to merge with the Ma
and experience the Maya
Its godliness
its goodliness
its humanity
its boy-ness or
girl-ness
--its Self

The soul--the swan--
that seed born from
the fruit of many trees
lifetimes and lifetimes
water, fire, earth and sky
journeys again
as human
to be known
and to know
to love
and be loved
--the Beloved

The soul--the swan--
a manifestation
of the two becoming
one--a living being
the merging
of all things
into one singular
devotion
one prayer
many prayers
answered
--a child is born

My friend is celebrating her 120 days very soon and to welcome the soul, I wrote this poem. God bless all the saints born into this Aquarian Age.

Doing Things Differently

2008-10-07T10:27:00.002-07:00

Well, the cynic in me wants to say, "see, it doesn't matter what I do, the outcome is still the same!" But I know it's not true. This time I did everything differently--and yes, the outcome is the same. I still have a broken heart; but I'm not broken because of it.

I loved as honestly as I'm capable of loving. I was open, fair, kind, and generous. I learned a lot about myself. And I maintained my Self: my self-respect, my self-love, my integrity, my devotion, everything. And I got to see what remains of my neurosis, my self-interest, my fear and I got to elevate myself--through consciousness--to a place of conscious loving, conscious living, and devoted surrender.

And it's making a huge difference! Because even though the outcome is all too familiar, (I know my way around a broken heart--lots of practice--smile) my response is very different. I feel alive, vibrant, and awake to the possibilities. I feel covered by God's Grace--whatever the outcome.

I feel in love--with life.

So--here's to doing things differently.

May you try something new
in the face of all your fears

May you act in ways that
support your highest good
even when every cell and nerve
in your body wants to cling
to what's known

May you believe, truly,
that you can create a different
tomorrow by what you do today

May you be free from yesterday
to act authentically today

And may you have the courage
to call upon guru's grace

Sat Nam

Open and Shut--a poem

2008-10-07T09:56:00.003-07:00

his hands, like the sea anemone
nimble, graceful, movement

his laughter, like the sound
of the ocean at low tide

his voice, high and resonate
like the call of the conch

his depth, deeper than
the sea's coldest reaches

his spirit, like the siren
calls to you and then vanishes--away

his heart, a mussel
open and shut
open and shut

lessons on love

2008-10-02T14:42:00.003-07:00

Time and space cannot play any part
between two loving hearts. We have no obligation to
anybody, we owe nobody anything. We have an
obligation to ourselves to love ourselves. If we love
somebody and our heart is open, then let it be open.
This closing and opening of the heart is a bargain and a
business. It won't work. --Yogi Bhajan

I'm watching my mind and my heart open and close like a going out of business sale on Labor Day Weekend. My entire life I have bartered my way through relationships. It's always been an exchange, just not of money. It's always been a war of wills--my own versus the one I supposedly loved, which of course isn't love at all.

I'm learning where it comes from: a deep sense of not deserving to be nurtured; to be loved freely. So the exchange started early. And the false independence started before I knew who 'I' was. But where it's going?

In my better moments, I remember my infinity and I remember my beloved, the sweetness, the quiet moments, and the laughter that we share--and I remain steady; I connect beyond the time and space and feel 'us'. In my weaker moments, I doubt and question and lose my transcendence of time and space and instead simply say to myself, "where did he go?"

My heart opened one morning during Gurdwara. I looked up and said to myself, uh-oh. I felt it--as my gaze rested on his face, his clear, meditative brow--my heart opened up. So today I practice staying open. Open mind. Open heart. No more basement sales. No more chips on the table (or the shoulder). Just practice. Practice loving--loving myself, loving the beloved.

Open mind. Open heart.

Open Sea. . .Infinity

God is NOT Republican

2008-10-02T08:11:00.002-07:00

--or Democrat. Nevertheless, I am so sick of the Republican Party and their constituents claiming sole ownership of morals and values, when it simply isn't true.

In the past 8 years, they have raped our constitution, our legal system, and continue to take money hand over fist from oil, pharmaceuticals, you name it, instead of providing alternative fuels and energy in the wake of global warming, instead of providing health care in the wake of a population that is either over 55 or under 15--and then lying about their record to a public that never questions anything.

They get to claim the God Card because they don't believe in homosexuality and they are 'pro-life' which simply means they would deny rights to a person who's already here over a possibility. Well, I'm sick of it. Just because I don't want to deny human beings their right to be, to work, and to love because of who they're doing it with doesn't make me immoral! Just because I don't think it's any of my business what a woman does with her own body, doesn't make me the devil! I'm outraged!

In fact, I believe my God demands that people have the right to make their own choices, I believe that my God allows people to define themselves, and their own lives--right or wrong. In truth, God is the doer of everything, so who are we to question.

I believe that because of my religion, it is our duty as a people, a social entity (a government) to take care of other people, to feed them, to not steal from them by bankrupting social security, to provide health care for all--deserving or not, to give people a living wage for work provided, a decent education and an opportunity regardless of race, class, or religion.

I get really tired of 'their' side always getting to claim the 'god' card. I believe in god as strongly as any republican--and I actually believe I live the principals of Christ more than any Republican politician I've ever known-- ever heard the phrase, "don't cast the first stone"?

Tolerance and Spiritual Practice

2008-10-01T14:58:00.004-07:00

Spirituality without tolerance is like milk with
potassium cyanide. Touch it on the tongue and you
will be dead on the spot. --Yogi Bhajan, circa 1981

In these days and times, it is said that fanaticism will be the contrast to the expansiveness coming into consciousness, coming into being. Let me be clear, I'm not the most tolerant person in the world. I'm easily agitated, often annoyed, and in general, fairly aloof, which as a package doesn't look like the picture of equanimity and grace--tolerance. But at the core of my being, I believe everyone has a right to exist. Even me. And the fanaticism that I see growing with each passing day--in every walk of faith--makes me nauseated. We are all guilty of it--Christians, Muslims, Sikhs, even Buddhists are getting in on it!--because we're all so terribly afraid.

What would it look like to just take a deep breath and see the other person as you? What would the world look like? How would I see myself in the mirror? The word that comes to mind is relief.

Yogi Bhajan used to say that the only difference between him and us was that he accepted himself totally, without any reservations. That kind of radical acceptance requires a lot of tolerance, a lot of patience, and a relationship to the infinite.

May we all aspire to that kind of acceptance, the radical notion that I'm okay. You're okay. (yes, I said it--ick!). But it's really the bottom line of spiritual practice. Can I be kind and tolerant to you, even when we disagree?

At home in your own heart

2008-09-29T13:04:00.004-07:00

The new shabd I learned this week has really been a blessing--auspicious (one of my favorite words)--it's called Thir Ghar Baisho. It's perfect for me right now as my mind swings wildly one way and then another. In its opening lines, it basically reminds me of everything I need to know right now--what I need to remember with each breath:

thir ghar baishu har jan pi-aaray.
satgur tumray kaaj savaaray.

Remain steady in the home of your own self, O beloved
servant of the Lord.

The True Guru shall resolve all your affairs.

There is nothing to do. There is no more to be. There is only my prayer and the faith that God the Doer will resolve my affairs. Not the most comfortable place for me to be in; I'm chock full of insecurity and doubt. But it's good practice. And until more is revealed, I get to practice being kind: kind to myself and kind in my thoughts and actions.

Practicing kindness
in the home of my own heart

In my Heaven, David Byrne is God

2008-09-29T12:57:00.003-07:00

It's been a weekend of music--and what a weekend it's been. Things were jump-started with a rehansabhai for a friend's 120-day celebration. This all-night singing fest had me scheduled in at 1:30am! Yikes...I thought surely I would be singing lullabies as everyone else slept the night away, but lots of people were awake--and if they weren't awake when I started, they were awake by the time I finished. (Although, the rousing Jai Bhagauti that followed served to wake up any remaining sleepy heads!) Great fun.

Saturday was the final day of the raag course I participated in this week. Beautiful--and even if I never sing traditional, classical kirtan, it gives me new ideas and helps me learn new shabds.

Sunday morning I was awakened by the phone with a request to cover someone's kirtan slot...soooo, more music, and I got to play the new shabd I'd learned (in my own way of course).

But the penultimate moment was Sunday night--David Byrne in Concert! Amazing! I can't believe I've never seen him before. He was and is a genius and I got so much joy from just watching him. The show was more than I could have ever expected. I was always a fan (back in college) but now I have a renewed zeal for this creative, eccentric, expressive, beautiful man. A must-see show if he's ever in your area!

40 Days until the Election

2008-09-26T15:19:00.002-07:00

So today marks the beginning of a very important 40-day sadhana. . . . as our country chooses its next president, please remember: we get what we deserve--so deserve more! Ask more of yourself and of your country than lies and deceit, ask more of your country than ignorance and attachment to philosophies that are so bankrupt that they require another philosophy to cover their $700 Billion dollar belly-up. . .and still the wolves and the crow cry for 'freer, truer markets'.

The financial markets are man-made systems based on good faith, rolling credit, and trust in a future. . .none of which have anything to do with a 'free market' but instead represent a carefully calculated, managed, and massaged public perception of prosperity. The Republicans have been espousing a dead philosophy for more than 20years of my life. It began with Reagan's trickle-down theory--and why any true, blue-blooded laborer ever fell for that line of crap is beyond me, but that's a different question--and continued with Bush's 'war' economy. How an entire generation has forgotten the benefits of the New Deal and managed economies via Government spending on people and not WAR is beyond me, too. It's like mass amnesia, which they use to fuel mass ignorance and hysteria.

I don't think these banks deserve a bailout but I'm not an idiot. I understand that in some measure the government has to intervene or we'll have a Greater Depression, on an epic, world-scale, because these are not 'American Economies'--they are world economies.

Oh--and if you want your daughter (or yourself) to have the right to choose, and you want to have access to healthcare, and you'd like your son or daughter to come home from Iraq, you might think about those issues too in the coming days.

Recommended Meditation:

Mantra:

Aap Sahai Hoaa
Sachay Da Sachay Doa
Har Har Har

Mudra:

Left hand: Saturn Finger (middle finger) and Thumb touching
Right hand: Sun Finger (Ring finger) and Thumb touching

Chant: 11 minutes

tattvas--a poem

2008-09-25T15:51:00.003-07:00

Tattvas

I am earth
You are water

I am fire
You are air

We dwell in ether
spirits
across space and time

Polarity's perfect play:

Krishna dancing
with his flute

Ganesha riding
upon the rat

Lila turning
and turning
and turning

Laughter spills
from our cup of sorrows

Joy arises from ashes
blood turns to milk
gold from the philosopher's stone

these lowly forms
transmuting
elements co-mingling
becoming

a quixotic elixir
drink from this cup
and never be thirsty again . . .

I like Black People

2008-09-22T15:09:00.008-07:00

Here are some photos from the Obama rally this past Thursday right here in little ol' Espanola. All credits belong to Convivial Design Group, Abiquiu, NM (also known as Gyan and Prabhu Jot). . . enjoy!

Singing and singing and singing

2008-09-22T09:16:00.002-07:00

Well, it's been a weekend filled with singing--to the point that I don't really feel like I've had a weekend. But it was nice to return from Minneapolis and have another performance lined up. Our jetha sang at the International Folk Art Museum in Santa Fe--amazing place. I can't believe I've never been there before. A definite must on my list of things to do this fall--go back and wander around.

Five hour rehearsal on Saturday and a three-hour performance yesterday, then sadhana this morning--I'm about sung out (read: wrung out). But I really can't be because the Raag course begins today. . . .so more singing!

Meanwhile, I continue to get hints from the universe that it's time to record again. So, I'll just continue to wait until the right time and the right funding and the right set comes together--all in guru's time.

Until then,
Sing until it hurts
Sing until your heart
bursts open
Sing until that final
tear falls
once and for all
Sing until love
returns
and then sing
again
rejoicing in the fall
sing with each breath
and each step
Sing!

surfacing

2008-09-19T10:55:00.008-07:00

The shadow rises up
like the seventh wave
crashing against the psyche
sucking you under
carrying you out to
the great ocean,
the deep, cold
blue sea

The current stronger
than your own will
stronger than your practice
bearing the crushing
weight of years
of sorrow and
suffering
the great, wide
divide

Out of breath
the instinct to live
grows stronger with each
beat of the heart
pulse pounding,
struggling for breath
surfacing
to the wide
blue sky

Surfacing, returning
to the breath
the moment
when all things
are new and
shining like the sun

Life lives
even in the darkest
corners--the smallest light
can remove the shadow

Obamanos!

2008-09-19T10:55:00.002-07:00

Well, I'm thoroughly sunburned and still recovering from a day of political rallying here in Espanola....but we made Salon's online magazine (my daily news source) and we might just make a big difference in the general election!

It was fun to be a part of the 'scene' and it has been a HUGE wake-up call for me. One would think that I've lived here long enough to know that I live in a largely latino place; but I have admit that although I've known it intellectually, I haven't really related to this place in that way. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing really.

But in volunteering for the campaign and in hearing the way the campaign addresses local residents, I realize that my 'cultural' blindness may be hampering my ability to really relate to this place: its history, its people, its richness, its ethnicity. I am white, white, white--or gringo as they say around here. And my whiteness (or pinkness as a friend calls it) has always been a sore spot for me. But what can you do? It's who I am...but I did realize that more than 60% of residents in my county speak Spanish as their First language--even if they've lived here their entire lives. And I've been waking up in the morning with Spanish going around in my head, which seems implausible given I don't speak Spanish, but there it is. I guess I'm finally ready to learn to speak it (after 6 years of studying it-ha!)

So--vamanos Obamanos!

A Word from the Master

2008-09-17T14:54:00.002-07:00

What is the enlightened language of the man?

Whenever man has come to realization, all he could say is Sa, that is why Sa Ta Na Ma has first word Sa and music has the Sargam: Sa Re Ga Ma Pa Da Ni Sa. Sa is the experience of the action and reaction, both, spontaneously. You cannot become a bird without feathers and you cannot become spiritual without knowing the spirit.

You have to understand to stand under and then you have to test yourself, your physical, your mental and your spiritual self. Therefore I say to you today: the mind is a constant action and reaction of intellect. When you experience the consciousness, you relate it to infinity. How do you relate it to infinity? Through the mantra. What is a mantra? A word. A word which means what? Nothing, but also means everything. A word, which relates the finite to infinity, which inspires you.

God is infinity but when you consciously, constantly, creatively subject your mind to the object of mantra, then you become divine and infinite. Understand? That is why repeating the naam makes you, naam.

You are what you speak, you are what you eat, you are what you do.

--Yogi Bhajan, July 7, 1976

May you speak with committed language

May you eat food that nourishes the body
and the spirit

May your every action uplift
your self and everyone you touch

May your meditation be true
and may you always know your own
saaaaaa
your very own note,
your very own song,
your very own voice,
your very own you.

The Honey and the Honeycomb

2008-09-17T10:24:00.004-07:00

In the metaphor that is life and spiritual practice, my teacher often describes the formless and the form as honey and honeycomb. The honeycomb (form) can be either empty and dry or full and sweet--it is the honey (the formless) that is the essence, that provides the meaning.

So, too, people can either attach their lives to the honey or the honeycomb. If they attach to the honey, then wherever they go, they bring their own purpose, meaning, and intention to that place and serve that present moment. They are their own home in the world and they bring a sweetness and a lightness to everything they touch. The formless is free to create form, spontaneously, wherever it finds itself.

If however, they attach to the honeycomb, the form, then their relationship to the honey is not stable; they are insecure, shakey--in fact, if they derive their stability from the honeycomb, which is just an illusion (because remember, honey isn't necessarily present in the honeycomb), then they often find themselves in a dry comb, or a catacomb, and every once in a while, through a moment of grace, a place clothed in honey. But because they are relating to the honeycomb and not the honey, they drown. They panic in the presence of the formless. They are so identified with and attached to places and people and things that no longer feed them, they have so lost themselves to a form that doesn't give them what they want, and yet still they can't let go. It's the essence of addiction.

So, in this metaphor, am I lost in the honeycomb or finally becoming the honey? I have spent years attaching to empty honeycombs: dry, empty shapes and forms of things I believed I wanted--all the while thinking that if I believed enough, hoped enough, loved enough, the empty comb would suddenly be filled with honey. While at the same time, I have always known that I am the honey--at home anywhere in the world--because I identify not with a particular form but with the formless, my essence, my identity as sweetness and light--honey--food of the gods.

May the formless
take shape in you
and may you
be you

honey, dense and sweet,
spun into dreams and
confections
of mysterious and
myriad forms

love and light
mutual delight

soaking

2008-09-17T08:16:00.002-07:00

Here in Northern New Mexico, mineral baths are an ancient source of healing, along with the land and the air and the people. I'm lucky enough to live close to a favorite spot, Ojo Caliente, where you can head up after work and soak away all your troubles, visit with friends, and now, hang out in woven hammocks (a nice addition to the regimen).

Last night I soaked and prayed and laughed and came home to my cozy house and my beautiful animals and crawled into bed. I woke up this morning and realized that none of it was important--at least not in the face of what's really important. I got an e-mail this morning from a friend in Houston who's experiencing an entirely different kind of soaking. Her home is flooded; they are living on bottled water, ice, gas camping stoves and a new generator. But she and her family are safe and together--and that's what matters to her. And to me.

May we all be safe
and may we all be happy

May we all have a place
to turn to for healing

May we all have friends
to laugh with

And may we all know love
infinite, divine,
cozy and kind

Rapprochement

2008-09-16T12:48:00.004-07:00

It's a term used in child-development for that going and coming that happens between a toddler and its mother. The mother's only job is to just be there--and let the child go and come, go and come. I often feel like I'm that child and God is the great mother, watching me go and come, go and come, always there, even as I always doubt She will be.

When I left for Minneapolis, my heart was full of hope, again. And hope is a dangerous thing. One of my mentors said, 'just have faith'. So I dropped my agendas, my strategies, and my usual bag o' tricks and decided to just go, be open, and see what opened up before me.

I came home full of that same hope--dangerous territory. Because people and things will always in some way fall short--not because they are not enough, but rather because I still, after all these years, don't know how to ask for what I really need. I still, after all these years, fall headlong into a future not yet written, hoping to be caught and, more often than not, I find myself picking pavement from my knees. In my desire to please--and not push--I end up destroying it all away anyway--sabotage.

So I return to my old adage: Abandon hope all ye who enter here. I return, again and again, to God and wait for faith to awaken in my heart a patience and a compassion that will allow everything--even what I'm most afraid of--to be okay. Cultivating a faith that redirects my hope to what is, right now; a faith that creates in me a grateful heart; a faith that allows me to continue on, despite all my insecurity and fear, because hope--that dangerous animal--has stirred my heart to love. And love can only fall and continue falling--in the faith that when love is love, it is an infinite fall.

Faith: rapprochement, returning again and again,
to the one who sustains us all, and praying
that this time, love
will be waiting
for me
at the end
of the infinite fall

Censorship and the Death of Democracy

2008-09-09T11:04:00.003-07:00

There is a great article on Salon today comparing the radical right-wing Republican agenda to extremist Muslim fundamentalists--both are distortions of the religious rhetoric from which they are derived and both are said to be working in the 'name of God'. But not my God and not your God--only theirs. There is but One God--Ek Ong Kaar--and we're all participating in what and how that God gets expressed in the world.

Much has been talked about Sarah Palin's endeavor to ban books from the Wasilla Public Library and the subsequent firing of the librarian. Some of it is true and some isn't; but for Palin to have inquired at all about banning books is frightening enough in today's political climate. Censorship is just the beginning of a historically repeated practice: governments slowly eroding the rights of the people in the name of doing what is 'best' for them--security, safety, morality, what have you. But in reality it's just another name for power and corruption and the absolute erosion of every principle that 'America' stands for.

Anyone recognize the pattern? Or do I have to spell it out? (Hitler, Mussolini, Franco, Lenin, Stalin, Mugave, Pol Pot, to name a few--and if we're not careful, we'll soon begin to add the names Bush, Cheney, Palin and McCain to the infamous list; but this time it's on us--fellow citizens of what we like to think of as a democracy that is America--not anyone else.)

Who's Afraid of Sarah Palin?

2008-09-08T14:43:00.003-07:00

Just got this off the wires and thought I'd share it here. Friends of mine have been traveling throughout the west on their way home the past few days and have been hearing mixed reviews about the Republican Party's VP pick. . . .some ecstatic, some not so. My earlier post gave you a summary of my take on the situation; but for those who want more information, I give you this from Anne Kilkenny, resident of Wasilla, AK and fellow voter and citizen:

I am a resident of Wasilla, Alaska. I have known Sarah since 1992.

Everyone here knows Sarah, so it is nothing special to say we are on a

first-name basis. Our children have attended the same schools. Her

father was my child's favorite substitute teacher. I also am on a

first name basis with her parents and mother-in-law. I attended more

City Council meetings during her administration than about 99% of the

residents of the city.

She is enormously popular; in every way she’s like the most popular

girl in middle school. Even men who think she is a poor choice and

won't vote for her can't quit smiling when  talking about her because

she is a "babe".

It is astonishing and almost scary how well she can keep a secret. She

kept her most recent pregnancy a secret from her children and parents

for seven months.

She is "pro-life". She recently gave birth to a Down's syndrome baby.

There is no cover-up involved, here; Trig is her baby.

She is energetic and hardworking. She regularly worked out at the gym.

She is savvy. She doesn't take positions; she just "puts things out

there" and if they prove to be popular, then she takes credit.

Her husband works a union job on the North Slope for BP and is a

champion snowmobile racer. Todd Palin’s kind of job is highly

sought-after because of the schedule and high pay. He arranges his

work schedule so  he can fish for salmon in Bristol Bay for a month or

so in summer, but by no stretch of the imagination is fishing their

major source of income. Nor has her life-style ever been anything

like that of native Alaskans.

Sarah and her whole family are avid hunters.

She's smart.

Her experience is as mayor of a city with a population of about
5,000

(at the time), and less than 2 years as governor of a state with about

670,000 residents.

During her mayoral administration most of the actual work of running

this small city was turned over to an administrator. She had been

pushed to hire this administrator by party power-brokers after she had

gotten herself into some trouble over precipitous firings which had

given rise to a recall campaign.

Sarah campaigned in Wasilla as a “fiscal conservative”. During her 6

years as Mayor, she increased general government expenditures by over

33%. During those same 6 years the amount of taxes collected by the

City increased by 38%. This was during a period of low inflation

(1996-2002). She reduced progressive property taxes and increased a

regressive sales tax which taxed even food. The tax cuts that she

promoted benefited large corporate property owners way more than they

benefited residents.

The huge increases in tax revenues during her mayoral administration

weren’t enough to fund everything on her wish list though, borrowed

money was needed, too. She inherited a city with zero debt, but left it

with indebtedness of over $22 million. What did Mayor Palin encourage

the voters to borrow money for? Was it the infrastructure that she said

she supported? The sewage treatment plant that the city lacked? or a

new library? No. $1m for a park. $15m-plus for construction of a

multi-use sports complex which she rushed through to build on a piece

of property that the City didn’t even have clear title to, that was

still in litigation 7 yrs later--to the delight of the lawyers

involved! The sports complex itself is a nice addition to the

community but a huge money pit, not the profit-generator she claimed it

would be. She also supported bonds for $5.5m for road projects that

could have been done in 5-7 yrs without any  borrowing.

While Mayor, City Hall was extensively remodeled and her office

redecorated more than once.

These are small numbers, but Wasilla is a very small city.

As an oil producer, the high price of oil has created a budget surplus

in Alaska. Rather than invest this surplus in technology that will

make us energy  independent and increase efficiency, as Governor she

proposed distribution of this surplus to every individual in the state.

In this time of record state revenues and budget surpluses, she

recommended that the state borrow/bond for road projects, even while

she proposed distribution of surplus state revenues: spend today's

surplus, borrow for needs.

She’s not very tolerant of divergent opinions or open to outside
ideas or compromise. As Mayor, she fought ideas that weren’t generated by

her or her staff. Ideas weren’t evaluated on their merits, but on the

basis of who proposed them.

While Sarah was Mayor of Wasilla she tried to fire our highly respected

City Librarian because the Librarian refused to consider removing from

the library some books that Sarah wanted removed. City residents

rallied to the defense of the City Librarian and against Palin's

attempt at out-and-out censorship, so Palin backed down and withdrew

her termination letter. People who fought her attempt to oust the

Librarian are on her enemies list to this day.

Sarah complained about the “old boy’s club” when she first ran for

Mayor, so what did she bring Wasilla? A new set of "old boys". Palin

fired most of the experienced staff she inherited. At the City and as

Governor she hired or elevated new, inexperienced, obscure
people, creating a staff totally dependent on her for their jobs and eternally

grateful and fiercely loyal--loyal to the point of abusing their power

to further her personal agenda, as she has acknowledged happened in the

case of pressuring the State’s top cop (see below).

As Mayor, Sarah fired Wasilla’s Police Chief because he “intimidated”

her, she told the press. As Governor, her recent firing of Alaska's top

cop has the ring of familiarity about it. He served at her pleasure

and she had every legal right to fire him, but it's pretty clear that

an important factor in her decision to fire him was because he wouldn't

fire her sister's ex-husband, a State Trooper. Under investigation

for abuse of power, she has had to admit that more than 2 dozen

contacts were made between her staff and family to the person that she

later fired, pressuring him to fire her ex-brother-in-law. She tried to

replace the man she  fired with a man who she knew had been reprimanded

for sexual harassment; when this caused a public furor, she withdrew

her support.

She has bitten the hand of every person who extended theirs to her in

help. The City Council person who personally escorted her around town

introducing her to voters when she first ran for Wasilla City Council

became one of her first targets when she was later elected Mayor. She

abruptly fired her loyal City Administrator; even  people who didn’t

like the guy were stunned by this ruthlessness.

Fear of retribution has kept all of these people from saying anything

publicly about her.

When then-Governor Murkowski was handing out political plums, Sarah got

the best, Chair of the Alaska Oil and Gas Conservation Commission: one

of the few jobs not in Juneau and one of the best paid. She had
no background in oil & gas issues. Within months of scoring this great

job which paid $122,400/yr, she was complaining in the press about the

high salary. I was told that she hated that job: the commute, the

structured hours, the work. Sarah became aware that a member of this

Commission (who was also the State Chair of the Republican Party)

engaged in unethical behavior on the job. In a gutsy move which some

undoubtedly cautioned her could be political suicide, Sarah solved all

her problems in one fell swoop: got out of the job she hated and

garnered gobs of media attention as the patron saint of ethics and as a

gutsy fighter against the “old boys’ club” when she dramatically quit,

exposing this man’s ethics violations (for which he was fined).

As Mayor, she had her hand stuck out as far as anyone for pork from

Senator Ted Stevens. Lately, she has castigated his pork-barrel

politics and publicly humiliated him. She only opposed the “bridge
to nowhere” after it became clear that it would be unwise not to.

As Governor, she gave the Legislature no direction and budget

guidelines, then made a big grandstand display of line-item vetoing

projects, calling them pork. Public outcry and further legislative

action restored most of these projects--which had been vetoed simply

because she was not aware of their importance--but with the unobservant

she had gained a reputation as “anti-pork”.

She is solidly Republican: no political maverick. The State party

leaders hate her because she has bit them in the back and humiliated

them. Other members of the party object to her self-description as a

fiscal conservative.

Around Wasilla there are people who went to high school with Sarah.

They call her “Sarah Barracuda” because of her unbridled ambition and

predatory ruthlessness. Before she became so powerful, very ugly

stories circulated around town about shenanigans she pulled to be made

point guard on the high school basketball team. When Sarah's

mother-in-law, a highly respected member of the community and

experienced manager, ran for Mayor, Sarah refused to endorse her.

As Governor, she stepped outside of the box and put together of package

of legislation known as “AGIA” that forced the oil companies to march

to the beat of her drum.

Like most Alaskans, she favors drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife

Refuge. She has questioned if the loss of sea ice is linked to

global warming. She campaigned “as a private citizen” against a state

initiaitive that would have either a) protected salmon streams from

pollution from mines, or b) tied up in the courts all mining in the

state (depending on who you listen to). She has pushed the State’s

lawsuit against the Dept. of  the Interior’s decision to list polar

bears as threatened species.

McCain is the oldest person to ever run for President; Sarah will be a

heartbeat away from being President.

There has to be literally millions of Americans who are more

knowledgeable and experienced than she.

However, there’s a lot of people who have underestimated her and are

regretting it.

CLAIM VS FACT

•“Hockey mom”: true for a few years

•“PTA mom”: true years ago when her first-born was in elementary

school, not since

•“NRA supporter”: absolutely true

•social conservative: mixed. Opposes gay marriage, BUT vetoed a bill

that would have denied benefits to employees in same-sex
relationships

(said she did this because it was unconsitutional).

•pro-creationism: mixed. Supports it, BUT did nothing as Governor to

promote it.

•“Pro-life”: mixed. Knowingly gave birth to a Down’s syndrome baby

BUT declined to call a special legislative session on some pro-life

legislation

•“Experienced”: Some high schools have more students than Wasilla has

residents. Many cities have more residents than the state of Alaska.

No legislative experience other than City Council. Little hands-on

supervisory or managerial experience; needed help of a city

administrator to run town of about 5,000.

•political maverick: not at all

•gutsy: absolutely!

•open & transparent: ??? Good at keeping secrets. Not good at

explaining actions.

•has a developed philosophy of public policy: no

•”a Greenie”: no. Turned Wasilla into a wasteland of big box stores

and disconnected parking lots. Is pro-drilling off-shore and in ANWR.

•fiscal conservative: not by my definition!

•pro-infrastructure: No. Promoted a sports complex and park in a city

without a sewage treatment plant or storm drainage system. Built

streets to early 20th century standards.

•pro-tax relief: Lowered taxes for businesses, increased tax burden on

residents

•pro-small government: No. Oversaw greatest expansion of city

government in Wasilla’s history.

•pro-labor/pro-union. No. Just because her husband works union

doesn’t make her pro-labor. I have seen nothing to support any claim

that she is pro-labor/pro-union.

WHY AM I WRITING THIS?

First, I have long believed in the importance of being an informed

voter. I am a voter registrar. For 10 years I put on student voting

programs in the schools. If you google my name (Anne Kilkenny +

Alaska), you will find references to my participation in local

government, education, and PTA/parent organizations.

Secondly, I've always operated in the belief that "Bad things happen

when good people stay silent". Few people know as much as I do because

few have gone to as many City Council meetings.

Third, I am just a housewife. I don't have a job she can bump me out

of. I don't belong to any organization that she can hurt. But, I am no

fool; she is immensely popular here, and it is likely that this will

cost me somehow in the future: that’s life.

Fourth, she has hated me since back in 1996, when I was one of the 100

or so people who rallied to support the City Librarian against Sarah's

attempt at censorship.

Fifth, I looked around and realized that everybody else was afraid to

say anything because they were somehow vulnerable.

CAVEATS

I am not a statistician. I developed the numbers for the increase in

spending & taxation 2 years ago (when Palin was running for Governor)

from information supplied to me by the Finance Director of the City of

Wasilla, and I can't recall exactly what I adjusted for: did I adjust

for inflation? for population increases? Right now, it is impossible

for a private person to get any info out of City Hall--they are

swamped. So I can't verify my numbers.

You may have noticed that there are various numbers circulating for the

population of Wasilla, ranging from my "about 5,000", up to 9,000. The

day Palin’s selection was announced a city official told me that the

current population is about 7,000. The official 2000 census count was

5,460. I have used about 5,000 because Palin was Mayor from 1996 to

2002, and the city was growing rapidly in the mid-90’s.

Anne Kilkenny

August 31, 2008

The Current State of Feminism

2008-09-05T06:18:00.003-07:00

On the radio this morning, they were telling the story of the year that 'bra burners' gathered at the Miss USA pageant to protest and call for a women's liberation movement. It was 1968, the year I was born. A few years later, my own mother picketed the state capital in Austin, Texas, to protest against the Equal Rights Amendment to the constitution--yes, you read that correctly. She only confessed this to me a few years ago, with some trepidation in her voice. Yet, despite my roots, or perhaps because of the vibration happening the year I was born, I became a feminist (well as much as anyone from my generation could be one).

I quickly learned the limitations of the movement as well as the complete lack of awareness on the part of women my age and younger of the benefits that the women's movement had delivered to to them. Before the early 70s, women couldn't get a credit card without a cosigner, much less buy a car or a house. So even though women still aren't paid the same as men for the same work, we've made progress.

Forty years ago Yogi Bhajan came to the states and within 10 years he began his own women's movement--The Grace of God Movement--to elevate the consciousness of women and in turn heal the planet. He would scoff at those women crying out for 'equal' rights and declared that being equal to a man would not only be impossible but a huge step down for women, who he described as 16 times more intelligent, 16 times more capacity, and 16 times more powerful than men. (The downside is that we're also 16 times more neurotic, insecure, etc., but we don't like to talk about that as much--smile.) That in fact, women were the source of everything--including men.

So as I listen to contemporary women still longing to be "equal" to men, I let out a little sigh. Why be equal when you can be worshipped? Why be equal when you can be infinite? Why be equal when you can be you--and there's nothing equal about that!

Love at First Sight

2008-09-05T06:04:00.004-07:00

Our culture espouses this notion of love at first sight from the time we're very young. In movies, books, stories, poetry, and songs, we're fed the idea of the look, the moment, when everything changes. It's an expression of our soul's longing for transformation, for union, our longing to belong--to something, to someone.

Everything has a polarity just as everything has a seed of truth, a kernal of wisdom, in it. So, love at first sight? Is it really just karma, samskaras, patterns, hooks--love at first bite? Or is it that moment when the heart sees, again, for the very first time? That spontaneous opening, that fresh breath of air, that awakens us to possibility? For it's never about the one upon whom the gaze falls; it's about the stirring in our own hearts. The truth in each moment, the opportunity to be new, with each breath, to renew.

So as my gaze rests upon your face, in the presence of the guru, and I sense my heart stirring awake, I understand that I love. Just that--I love. I still have within me--after all the pain and heartache--the capacity to love, to love infinitely, to love infinity--to love at first sight--and see myself, again, for the very first time. And with any luck, finally be able to see you, too.

Politics and the Not-so-usual Suspects

2008-09-04T09:26:00.004-07:00

I have to admit that I've been unwilling to watch the Republican Convention, so I can't pretend to a fair discussion about the events...but I did take an online 'political' test recently which was a confirmation of everything I've known intuitively for years. Neither party is even on the same playing field as me and my ideas. So for years, when I said I didn't see any real difference between the Democrats and the Republicans, I was right--at least from my position out in Far Left Field. But the past 8 years have taught me that whatever nuanced differences there are--they're VERY important! Evidently political rhetoric and the policies they give birth to are like the Richter Magnitude Scale, each 10th of a point along the continuum that is liberal-conservative actually represents a significant difference in effect. A devastating difference.

So abstinence education gives birth to a national spectacle of a teen wedding, talk of 'experience' in the White House is now obsolete, and the last gasp of misogyny as displayed by a 'pit bull' with lipstick is now the Republican Party's answer to women and their 'issues'. Give me a break.

Women are smarter than that.

oh, the water

2008-09-03T08:41:00.002-07:00

Oh, the Water

It was as though we already knew

the element of water
our home
bridging air and fire
the fluid, changeable source
of a common good
a shared desire

It was as though we already knew

moving across the lake
buoyed by the surface tension
of each and every water molecule
we were alight
electric eels, dancing helixes
beneath a wide blue sky

It was as though we already knew

to touch would be
too much, too soon
we would need the earth
beneath us, to ground us
we would need food and a fire
and the laughter of friends

It was as though we already knew

oh, but the water,
the water would always be
our medium, our source
the quixotic mixture
of danger and delight
the nectar of love at first sight

Auspicious Beginnings. . . .Happy Endings

2008-09-03T08:20:00.004-07:00

I've always been a big believer in 'signs'...things, people, and events pointing the way to some meaningful something. Sometimes the signs have taken me in entirely 'wrong' directions--painful, delusional holes that I thought I'd never scratch my way out of. Other times, I've been delighted to see the path open up before me in ways I could never have dreamed.

In fact, it's been a motto of mine for years--the way things begin is the way they end. The way you live is the way you die (I've got to do some meditating on that in the coming days and weeks! Life is short and growing shorter with each passing day.) The beginnings of things are so very important. They are the seeds of things to come--the bij--the essence that will one day bear the fruit.

For example, I moved here to New Mexico just over three years ago--and since day one, I've found myself in auspicious surrounds, meeting the people who would give me the opportunities I have today: to work with and serve the Teachings of Yogi Bhajan on a daily basis with some of the greatest living teachers of Kundalini Yoga. Auspicious.

Other auspicious beginnings have come together in the past few weeks. There is a sweetness in the air, a lightness in the heart, and a possibility on the horizon--an opportunity to create something good. Because it's not all signs and wonders; it's also conscious intention and applied intelligence.

But nevertheless, when I got in my car to go to sadhana this morning and the first song I heard on the radio kept repeating the refrain, "put your sailing shoes on" I had to smile. Because yes, I considered it an auspicious sign of things to come.

The Gates of Hell in My Own Backyard

2008-08-30T10:58:00.004-07:00

Sometimes life here in N. New Mexico can be so peaceful and dreamy it feels like you're in a steady-state of altered consciousness (might also have something to do with sadhana :). But sometimes it can be so hellish that it shocks you with the full force of it.

I was awakened last night at 1am to my dog barking and barking and barking. He's not typically of that ilk so I went out back to check it out. A ferrel cat that I've seen around the neighborhood before--even in my garage once--was in the backyard fighting my huge chow chow dog! And this cat was NOT backing down. I tried spraying them both with water to stop the fight--nothing. Meanwhile this cat is scratching and clawing and hanging on to Vinnie's head as he spins around and around trying to shake it off. It was such a surreal and traumatic scene--apocalyptic even.

When I realized there was nothing I could do but wait for the fight to end, I went inside and watched TV. They finally quieted down around 3 am. I decided to just go directly to sadhana. So, these musings fall on the heels of no sleep--please take them with a grain of salt as I know you always do.

As I reflected on the scene, I had to ask: What the hell? Was I witnessing the last gasp of my own beast being played out in front of my eyes? My own inner demons come to life in this scrawny cat that didn't even react to water, or screaming or stones or anything! I realized my own attachment to my dog's safety (would he get rabies from this ferrel thing) and then somehow compassion awakened in me. I thought of my own inner darkness, my own inner demons, and softened a bit. How wild, how fearful, how intensely full of life this cat was, even in the face of starvation, abuse, and neglect. How my own demons must be terrified of being cut off, set free. Their entire existence wrapped up in my old identity, my old patterns and habits.

I sit here writing and realize that demons or not, I am whole. Everything is a part of me; I'm not pushing anything away nor am I clinging to anything that's ready to move along. I'm breathing. I'm witnessing it all. And I'm no longer afraid to look. I'm no longer terrified of what I might find. My own strength to create, to sustain and to destroy gives me courage--even if I couldn't watch the spectacle last night--too terrifying--I can watch my own mind. I'm not afraid of those dark corners--they are my gift: my desire to live--and one hopes, my readiness for death.

May you recognize yourself
in all things
May you live
without fear
without revenge
letting everything in

And in that mirror
that is life, in all its complexity,
may you see your Self
and may compassion be awakened in you
that you may know fullness
completeness,
and integrity

May you allow
all that is--
hell and heaven
good and bad--
and greet the inexhaustible,
ever-forward push
of life
with a resounding
yes!

A Journey Ends

2008-08-29T13:15:00.002-07:00

and another one begins. . . .the Level One Immersion 2008 is over--hallelujah! I'm so exhausted, I don't even have words. I'll miss the energy that the level one students brought to the community, but it will also be nice to cozy up into the fall weather and reconnect to friends; go see some live music, walk around naked in my house again, and in general, just be with myself.

Although, if I'm really honest, I can't quite just be with myself right now. My mind and heart are now occupied--it's a peaceful occupation, but an occupation (preoccupation) nonetheless. It's cliche to say, "when you finally quit looking, you're found" But I'm happy to say I just might be living that particular cliche right now. We'll see. Guru will have his way--or that is my prayer anyway--but meanwhile, concentration is nonexistent. I just want to play!

However, concentration or no, there's board meetings next week, planning workshops for the following weekend, and an entirely new set of projects and priorities to put into place for 2009--oh! and there's love; mustn't forget about love. Exciting stuff!

Remember when you were fearless?

2008-08-26T09:46:00.003-07:00

Nirbhao. . . .Fearless
from Nanak's Japji Sahib, the Mul Mantra, a name of God--a description of our own divine nature--fearless.

I remember when I was a kid, my family and I went to Washington DC for my sister's graduation trip. I was 9; she was 18, my brother was somewhere in the middle. We rented a motor home and drove the entire way, listening to my mother and father argue about why his clothes hadn't been packed and what would she do without the beauty parlor for 3 weeks. Meanwhile, my grandpa taught us all how to play poker and we gathered wild strawberries from the side of the road as we hiked through the Appalachian countryside. Once we arrived in the big city, I was like a volunteer tour guide. Running toward the underground and figuring out the routes, how to pay, etc., absolutely fearless.

It takes my breath away now to remember how fearless I was. Where did it go? What reigned it in? And can I ever get it back?

If I'm really honest, much of it was my leonine bravado--constitutional, with a little bit of emotional compensation thrown in for flavor. But there was also true and absolute fearlessness--invincibility--that somehow got lost along the way to adulthood.

As I reflect on it, my fearlessness became recklessness, which became a kind of madness--and once I reached the other side of madness, in pursuit of a life, a mature life, somehow the truth of my fearlessness never quite resumed its course. I became careful, cautious. Friends would look at me and say, "When did your world become so small?" (Twenty square blocks to be exact.) And I would reply, this is what my life looks like now; this is what surviving means--staying somewhere in the middle of my extreme tendencies.

But years of caution, carefully tiptoeing around myself and others, left me with a bitter, dry taste in my mouth. And years of heartache and grief left me a bit too salty. So when something sweet and full of life crossed my path recently, I had to ask myself--am I fearless enough to receive it? Do I still have it in me to jump? After all this time, can I still fly?

Yes.

Minneapolis Here I Come!

2008-08-22T09:57:00.002-07:00

If you live in the Twin Cities area, I'd love to see you at the events scheduled the weekend of September 11-13th!

Thursday night, 6:00 p.m. at the Midtown Global Market Chant for Peace event

Friday and Saturday workshops at Center for Happiness and Saturday evening Chanting Workshop at Minnehaha Yoga.

The Workshop at Center for Happiness is Saturday afternoon. I'll be discussin the new Man to Man--The Complete Teachings of Yogi Bhajan for Men, which I worked on quite extensively this year--everything you've ever wanted to know about men but were afraid to ask.

I'll also be doing a kirtan event at Center for Happiness Friday evening--cozy, intimate evening with myself and Emily Graves--your local musician and healer coming into town to help me out!

The Workshop at Minnehaha Yoga will be Saturday evening and focus on Chanting and the Naad. How to open up your voice and allow the bliss! Be prepared for movement, meditation and chanting.

Hope to see you there!

Turning a page

2008-08-20T15:48:00.002-07:00

Wow, I didn't realize how long it's been since I've written. Since my last post, I've turned 40; written 2 business plans (and 1 more to go); my father fell and broke his hip; I've fallen in deep crush; and am generally sooo busy I don't have time to breathe, much less catch up on all my favorite shows, eat ice cream, or have coffee with my girlfriends.

But as busy as it's been, I still feel energized and relaxed--good. As hard as it is to hear of my father's fall, I trust that it's all a part of God's will. And as giddy as it is to be in crush, I also know it too will come to an end--or a different kind of beginning; so I'm just trying to keep up and stay within the flow of life--as it comes and as it goes.

Turning 40 wasn't as hard as I expected. It helps to be so busy you can't really think about it-smile! It also helps to be healthier than I've ever been, more contented than I've ever been, and moving into a new phase of life that will open incredible new doors to me--Teaching and Training and Singing all over the world.

Keep up! and I'll have more time to write in September. . . .

Looking Good--Naked

2008-07-30T19:47:00.002-07:00

Okay--I know the past few blogs have made me out to be the TV addict I am; but childhood habits die hard (I STILL like Cheerios--and yes, I still watch way too much TV; but baseball doesn't get interesting for another month or two--so cable shows are IT!).

So--there's a show called How to Look Good Naked and it's the most fabulous, feminist, show I've ever seen--and it's hosted by the most fabulous, feminist gay man I've ever seen--ha!

Women with 'issues'--body issues, especially--are asked to literally and figuratively disrobe, dismantle, and reorient themselves--Naked. They come away from the experience full of confidence--without the bravado--and feeling beautiful, inside and out.

I recommend this show to anyone, because we all have 'issues' and Carson just won't let you hold on to them. It's creative, compassionate, and most of all, it's fun!

Learn to enjoy your body again--even if it is another night of TV....

The Men You Love to Hate

2008-07-21T15:39:00.003-07:00

I've been experiencing a lot of inner anger this past week. I've done some stupid things in response to it; but the most baffling is this: a Mad Men Marathon. This new show on AMC network is all about the early advertising executives. What did my friend call it at lunch today? Oh, yeah, the glory years, when men could harass women at work with not a word of complaint, in fact, women were conditioned to play along if not encourage it outright. The days when men were expected to cheat on their wives, but not really participate in their families, other than pay the bills and be on the 5:31 train back to Connecticut. Drink hard, work hard, and don't embarrass themselves or their wives, too much. I've heard similar stories from older men in AA: lawyers, doctors, CEOs who lost entire years in black outs but were still successful, big players in the political, financial world of the 60s. I know it didn't stop then--and it didn't start then. Power and money and sex have always gone together.

Nevertheless, old wounds have really been triggered in me lately. The inability to trust. The deep feeling that every man is a liar. This same friend at lunch said to me, well, for every negative thought you have of men, you need to balance it with some good men you know. He admitted that it might be harder, but still, a necessary exercise. For he, a good man, I'm sure felt a bit threatened by my anger, even as he pointed out my own inability to even identify with 'good men'...his example was a 'good guy' from a series a few years ago. He asked me, "What do you think of him?" and I replied, "Wimp." He laughed and said, "I thought so". So see, we all have our blocks and our stereotypes and our hidden agendas....sigh.

I guess my hope is that whatever this anger is bringing up, I can clear it once and for all. And begin experiencing men--good men--for what they are, without dismissing them as soft, weak or somehow not real men.

What in me is attracted to 'the men I love to hate"? And how can I clear it and forgive myself? Forgive them? Forgive men . . . hmmmm.

Blessing or Curse

2008-07-18T13:51:00.003-07:00

I was recently reminded of what it was like to be in your 20s and constantly afraid you were pregnant or alternately, in your 30s, and grieving that you weren't. Each time my period came, a part of me would die. At the time I so wanted a child that every cycle was just a reminder to me of what I didn't have, wouldn't have--yet. Hope can be a beautiful thing--but it can also be extraordinarily lonely.

Now that I'm about to turn 40, I welcome my cycle as a gift--a reminder that I'm still a woman. And yes, that there's still a chance. I know, I know. I recognize how sad it sounds. But when you're my age and you try to be realistic and say, "Well, it's probably just not in the cards," everyone looks at you as if you've just cursed them (or made them eat a sour apple): "What? You're not going to keep hoping?" As if my hope in some way affected their perspective of me? Or worse, somehow my hope supported their own wishes. . . . who knows?

I just know it's an interesting thing to observe. Like the saying: Good, bad, who knows? What was so painful 10 years ago is now a blessing--until it's gone. And then it will just change again. Revisionist history? or just evolving identity? Who can say?

Like anything, it's just the story we attach to things that creates the reality. Perhaps I should take it as encouraging that much of what I thought was once painful and full of grief will over time become a source of my happiness.

The World Is Right Again

2008-07-17T08:49:00.002-07:00

Project Runway finally started its 5th Season! Yeah! I love this show...if you're not familiar with it, here's the rundown:

Heidi Klum, former Super Model, now the oft-pregnant, TV maven, married to the fabulous Seal, a life to envy by anyone's standard. She hosts the design show and her clipped delivery--and this season clipped skirts--make her an oddly delightful if strange personality to watch. She's joined by Designer Michael Kors, Fashion Editor Nina Garcia, and a guest judge to swing the votes. . . .her loyal compatriot is Tim Gunn, the most fabulous man on TV, who keeps the designers on track and generally provides some clout to the show.

This year's designers all look interesting -- and good! There have been some real bombs in the past...like the Season Two winner? What were they thinking?

Nevertheless, the opening show made a strange elimination, so it will be interesting to see what direction the show takes this year.

Ah fashion. . . .

Executive Producers? Anyone? Anyone?

2008-07-14T12:10:00.002-07:00

Sat Nam!

A lot of you have read my blog for quite some time now...but for some this may be your first time to peruse my often overly self-conscious musings on love and life. In addition to writing this blog and editing here at KRI, I'm also a musician--a musician looking for funding.

My first album, Nectar of the Name, came together through the support of Spirit Voyage and a lot of luck (aka Guru Ram Das). And although it has been successful, it's not enough to financially support a second album.

I have two projects in mind: an Aquarian Sadhana CD and then a second project along the lines of Nectar--upbeat, world-music interpretations of mantra.

If you're out there in cyberspace and you're secretly a fan with more money than you know what to do with, give me a call! I'd love to call you my executive producer! I'm trying to raise anywhere from 5K to 10K per project.

Look forward to hearing from you. . . .

The Red Balloon

2008-07-11T09:35:00.003-07:00

Remember that song from the 80s 99 Red Balloons. I never understood it. But the chorus was hypnotic--it would stay in your head for days. Perhaps that's why in talking about my current emotional state, I fell upon the metaphor of balloon. I've always used attachment to something outside myself (people, places, and things) to fill up my balloon. Now that my attachment to one person in particular is clearing itself out, I find my balloon is dragging along behind me--and myself with it...

I'm almost 40 years old and still unable to 'get it up' for my own life, my own accomplishments, my own interests. Perhaps this is what impotency feels like for men? Why success is so important to them...and yet they can in many ways be the master's of their own experience. They can create their success. I don't think I can create a positive, nurturing relationship in my life--I can't make anyone love me. Hence the powerlessness I feel over my own story. But what I need to recognize is that just because I can't change the facts, doesn't mean I can't change the experience.

How do I learn to fill up my own balloon? (I certainly have enough hot air!) But seriously, how do I become the arbiter of meaning and fulfillment in my own life? How do I release myself into the groundlessness of 'no outside validation' only inner affirmation? These are the questions I'm asking as I approach my 40th birthday. These are the same questions I've been asking myself for years; but it seems more pressing now. The story I tell about my Self now--the story I choose to create and believe--will be the story for the next many years.

I don't want to wake up still hoping for a man to fulfill me; but I don't want to close myself off to the possibility that intimacy and relationship can also bring happiness. The conundrum. The story of my life.

Here's to happy endings. . . . and new stories.

Breath of Fire--a poem

2008-07-08T09:03:00.004-07:00

Breath of Fire

This is my rain dance
This is my sun dance
This is my ablution
my purification by fire
this is my ritual bath
the release
of all my desires

My belly flies
like a whirling dervish
a dust devil
across the desert floor
the door of my heart
swings open and closed
with every breath
always ready
longing for more

This is my mantra,
my yatra
This is my kumbha mehla
my pilgrim's journey
the pulse of the breath
like the pulse in my veins
saying my name
over and over
again

Chop Wood Carry Water

2008-07-07T14:43:00.002-07:00

One of my favorite sayings from Buddhism goes something like this: What do you do to attain enlightenment? Chop wood and Carry water. What do you do once you've attained enlightenment? Chop wood and Carry water.

So here I am chopping wood and carrying water....the post breakthrough period has been challenging, if not a little disappointing. My obsessive thoughts and attachment have reared their ugly heads again--and it's so painful to witness it after feeling so incredibly free of them....sigh. But this is the discipline: receive the grace but continue the sadhana. Continue cleaning the mind, sweeping the thoughts, discerning the truth, and projecting the positive.

At least on this side of the breakthrough I have the courage to just confront the perception, ask the hard question, and trudge along the rocky road of accepting the reality: "You're not the one." --or as the famous book title says, "he's just not that into you." (smile)

All it means is that I continue to get to look at my part--my controlling nature, my wanting what I want when I want it because I want it, in short, my attachment. And it's not just this person, or this unique situation, it's me!!! I can't get around it. This is what I do. So I just touch base, soften, and let it go. Tough base, soften, and let it go. Offer up a prayer for him and for myself, touch base, soften some more, and let it go. Jap! (Repeat).

He asked me today, "do you think it's from your head or from your heart--this feeling you have?" and I had to reply, my heart. I still love him--after everything, in spite of everything. Yet how much of that 'love' is truly love--the wish for him to be happy--and how much of it is attachment? Wanting what I want and the fear of not getting it. If anything, it engenders a lot of compassion--for myself and for him.

May we all breathe in the sweetness
that is life, that is love

May we all place ourselves upon a star
and see the world
as a ray of light

May the love we long for
bloom like a rose
from within

May those we love
enjoy our sweetness, our fragrance
wafting on the wind

for you don't have to be picked
you don't even have to be seen
you just have to love and be loved
to participate in the miracle
that is this life, this love

Autobiography of a Breakthrough

2008-06-02T07:54:00.005-07:00

In thinking about my recent breakthrough and how genuinely 'gifted' it felt. I began to think about how I had gotten there. It didn't just come 'out of the blue.' So I sat down to write about the stages of the path--the stepping stones along the way. Here's what I came up with.

Well any good breakthrough requires pain. Pain, pain and more pain--and then, a shock, the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.

I had done my homework; I've been through more than a year of pain and attachment, emotions and commotions, a lifetime really. Then, I experienced a profound polarity. The perfect date. Fun, easygoing, lighthearted--the connection was there. Or so I thought. Two days later, I discover (through more pain) that my perception of the experience was not matched by my partner's. Shock. Shock has a way of waking you up to the truth.

Then, the hukam. The command. A few days later, full of despair I take a hukam that says something to the effect of: You are released from the cares of men, which was a good sign, but I wasn't even at the beginning of being able to feel it, or experience it.

Then, therapy. My therapist looks at me and says, "So, you're a vampire." Well--wasn't that a shock! It's a long story, but I have a history with vampires--and I certainly never believed the term applied to me.

Then, a talk with my Teacher, who says in no uncertain terms, Well, you either don't believe you deserve better or you choose men that don't demand excellence from you--that is, you can always feel better than them (because they're such losers, right? wrong).

Then, a trip to visit friends in Boulder and the realization, once again, that marriage isn't exactly the ticket to ease and comfort. Being single isn't so bad.

Then, more pain, rumors, slander, not really knowing what's true and what isn't. Truth and Lies.

Then, a memory. Liberation. Liberation had once been my watchword. Even in my years of complete debauchery and attachment, I longed for liberation.

Then, a moment of clarity. I realized (from my work in the program) that the only way I could experience freedom was to look at me--my part. What did I bring and what did I get out of this dynamic, this year-long saga? It was a painful epiphany, but it rang so true and my experience of relief was so palpable, I knew it had merit. Putting aside what he may or may not have done, I continued the dynamic by seeking him out, staying in contact, always trying to make a connection. I was the one responsible--and in this realization I received a profound sense of taking my power back. I could change. I could simply stop.

Then, the breakthrough. I was meditating in sadhana. He was there. So I meditated on him and my part in it all and all of the sudden, I was no longer angry. I realized that the samskara was completed. We were done--and we were not only done, but I was done. I was done being the kind of woman who needed a man to save or be saved. I had a vision where I not only said goodbye to him and our samskara, but also to our son, who has been in my consciousness since I met him. I said goodbye to the idea of a child and what a child represented in my unconscious--another way to be saved, another way to validate my existence.

Then, forgiveness. I called my beloved and shared my experience and wished him well. I will always love him; but that simply means that I will always wish for his happiness--and my own.

It's just me. I'm here. I'm alive. I'm free. Free to simply be. I may have finally realized the essence of my name--Sat Purkh--and I've never felt better.

Epiphanies

2008-05-30T11:12:00.003-07:00

Part of any spiritual journey includes a few epiphanies--touches of grace--sometimes painful, sometimes ecstatic. The past 24 hours has brought me a couple of epiphanies--in turns painful and ecstatic. As a recovered alcoholic, I know that I cannot find freedom by looking at what's been done to me--whatever truths lie there are incomplete (because they are viewed from the lens of the ego) and ultimately have nothing to do with me. In order to be free, I must look at me.

That was the painful epiphany--but such a welcome one, because now that I've seen it, I can be free of it. In looking at this past year, I had to recognize my own part, my complicity in creating the circumstances and environments that invited pain into my life. And though it was hard to see, it also brought with it such empowerment--now I can simply quit doing what I was doing! I can change! (Not that it's that easy, but it's a beginning.)

The second epiphany brought with it a touch of grace. In recognizing my own part, I realized I no longer had to make 'him' into the 'bad guy'. It wasn't necessary. I'm not angry. In fact, I'm just relieved. The samskara is completed, finished, done. My prayers for him and myself have worked.

But an even deeper transformation has happened than just being able to release that particular samskara, that particular attachment to him, my beloved. I feel in some way that my attachment to the kind of woman I have been, lifetime after lifetime, has been lifted. The clinging, smothering, needing to be saved persona has been healed. I am rightly aligned and my state of longing has been lifted, relieved. I am content. There's no longer that sense of gnawing emptiness, instead it's a sensation of the hollow reed--Shiva's flute. I am lighter. I am brighter. I am free.

I am blissful. And I wish him and all of us, really, only happiness. True happiness and peace and love--the Big Love--and a state of falling into grace, falling into the arms of the True Beloved, within.

Tennis Anyone?

2008-05-28T10:09:00.003-07:00

I've started playing tennis again. It's been years, more than I care to admit, and I was never very good to begin with; but it just feels good to get out and sweat. It's funny that the simple act of hitting the ball back over the net can make you feel so good, but there it is.

Last night I met a local who was playing against the wall. We hit a few balls back and forth. Good fun. I have a new tennis partner--and hopefully playing against him will improve my game a bit quicker than I had hoped.

Summer's here....finally.