A Satsang Story for Harsha and the Gang

[Guest guest]

Dear friends at ,

 

Hi everybody! A story came to me today that I thought might fit it in better

here than at my own RasaRanch group. I hope you enjoy it.

 

Lots of Love,

Kheyala

 

 

A satsang teacher came to town. I had seen her flyers up before at the local

healthfood store, but never felt any draw, myself, to go. I listened with

interest as a young friend of mine, Sandra, who was very much drawn to go,

shared her experiences with me. She said this teacher was "Realized," and

Sandra was feeling very strongly that at this point in her life she was wanting

the aid of such a mirror in which she could see herself clearly, so that she

could learn and make some changes and grow, and also have someone close to her

who could know what was in her best interest and give that guidance to her. I

had asked her if anybody could really know what was in her best interest besides

her, and she thought that was a good question. Nevertheless, to get on with the

story, Sandra had sat in satsang with this teacher, with a discriminating mind,

and she had made the decision that she would be her loyal disciple. She

admitted she didn't know exactly what that meant.

 

Her mom, another friend of mine, had had plenty of past experiences with gurus

and disciples. She had given over many of her own young years in the service of

another teacher and a sangha, and was still openly speaking with regret about it

even a decade later. When her daughter told her that she had taken on a

teacher, I am sure (though I was not there) it had raised an eyebrow or two.

Sandra's mom expressed an interest in meeting this teacher at the next

opportunity. Her daughter was pleased about her mother's interest, because now

they would have something to share with one another that was very important to

her, and also, maybe her mother might understand her better and support her in

the changes she was wanting to make in the way she was living her life. "But I

think she was also...." Sandra paused. I finished her sentence for her,

"...wanting to protect her young." Sandra said, "Yeah." So, one evening the

two of them drove to town together for satsang. When they were seated before

the teacher, Sandra found herself feeling quite uneasy. She had begun seeing

things through the critical eyes she imagined her mother to be wearing, and for

this reason, was not enjoying herself one bit. Then, somehow, she was able to

sink into the silence and her experience of being contracted dropped away. She

was once again at peace, but not for long.

 

Someone had brought forth a question regarding the guru-disciple relationship

and also asked about the practice of charging money for satsang. The teacher

had set about addressing those questions, when, to Sandra's dismay, her mother

raised her hand. She stated that she had detected in the teacher's body

language and voice some discomfort in answering them. She was curious to know

what the teacher's experience was, and invited her to share it with those

present. The teacher responded she was not uncomfortable at all; on the

contrary, she was feeling some excitement about answering the questions, as she

thought they were really good ones. According to Sandra, her mom did not back

down. She firmly stood her ground by saying something to the effect of, "Well,

this is what I am experiencing in my own intuition, in my own self. Are you

telling me I'm mistaken in that?" The teacher, as it turned out, also did not

back down.

 

Meanwhile, Sandra was starting to fume. She could remember all too well being

in that same position before, when her mother had gone against the grain and

spoken up in her presence at her school and in her community. Sandra felt that

this strong tendency in her mom had definitely made her life more difficult in

some ways. All she could think about was her dread at having to get into the

car with her after the satsang was over. Eventually, of course, she did find

herself seated closely beside her in the car, and Sandra wasn't talking. Her

mom asked her how she felt about what had transpired, and Sandra let it out. "I

was really feeling connected with this teacher! Why do you have to bring your

past history with you wherever you go?" she'd complained. At that point, they

found that their roles had reversed: her mom was the one who was quiet, and

Sandra was asking her how she was feeling.

 

"I was fine before, Sandra, but I'm real upset now! I am worried about you!"

she'd said. It's a bit of a drive from town to home, and in this case, that was

a good thing because they had had the time and the space to be able to really

listen to one another. It ended up that Sandra admitted she, too, had noticed

the same signs of discomfort in the teacher her mother had seen, only Sandra had

looked the other way.

 

I found myself interrupting her story with a question. Openly, I asked, "Does

that mean that one who is realized does not experience discomfort at times?"

 

"No," Sandra answered, thoughtfully. However, we both guessed that one who was

realized would most likely not deny it, if that was indeed what he or she was

experiencing.

 

Sandra continued. What she had come to see was that after she'd decided to be

a student of this woman, she had put aside her sharp ability to perceive her

teacher objectively, and instead would tell herself to "surrender," because "the

teacher knows best." This is exactly what had frightened her mother, and as

Sandra discovered, for good reason! She also came to the surprising fact that

she and her mother often saw things the same way, and by the time the drive was

over and they arrived home, they had both become aware of how grateful they were

to have such a good friend in one another.