Mine Is to Serve

[Guest guest]

Namaste:

 

Less than a year ago, I was sleeping soundly. Quite soundly. Suddenly, in the

spring of 2002, I was awakened. I did not know it then. I am an attorney by

profession and have practiced law for 21 years. I had gone away to a trial

lawyers' seminar, to learn trial skills, working with a jury. The seminar was

presented by the Trial Lawyers' College, based in the State of Wyoming, run by

Gerry Spence, an American trial master, author, and teacher.

 

The first morning of that seminar, which took place in Pennsylvania, I received

what I now know to be Shaktipat. I received the touch from a man who was

standing behind me in the cafeteria. We had a brief conversation, I turned away,

and all of a sudden his hand was on the back of my head, where he held it as I

stood frozen with surprise more than anything. At the time, I felt a physical

sensation as if some kind of energy entered into me from his hand. I avoided the

man who had "patted" me so strangely on the head for the rest of the seminar.

 

The seminar focused on seeking justice as the foundation of our service as trial

attorneys. By coincidence, some of the sessions opened an unexpected pandora's

box on the subject of racism. I left, my heart burning with emotions which

related to racism and employment discrimination as it had affected my life. For

several days after returning home from the seminar, I took a short, unfinished

"letter to the editor" that I had written and turned it into an article on

racism, speaking as the white wife of a black man in America. In it, I revealed

some painful personal experiences, which included my own father's inability to

accept my chosen path. I was torn between what I felt I had to do and the shame

I would reveal.

 

One day, shortly after the article had been accepted for publication in the

Trial Lawyers' College publication, I was especially agitated over what I had

done. I was questioning whether I was doing the right thing. I had tried to show

the article to my husband, and he had recoiled from me and would not read it.

Permit me to take you there with me briefly, to an excerpt from the book which

eventually emerged from my chaos... most of which was written before I began to

discover the meaning of Shakti...

 

 

--

 

 

THUNDER AND LIGHTNING

 

....It is only natural that he does not want me to dig into pain that he would

rather forget. I would rather not dig into pain that he would rather forget. I

would rather forget it too. But there are times in your life when you must face

your self. You must face the challenge that is placed before you. You must

accept the challenge. You must stand up and say something. So, battered but not

broken, I cry out for sanctuary but do not lose my resolve to forge ahead. I

just feel so alone.

 

The next day is Sunday...thunder and lightning, thunder and lightning, thunder

and lightning... All day long, the phrase runs through my head like a broken

record!!! What is wrong with me? Why do I keep chanting this mantra to myself?

It is the symbol of Trial Lawyers' College. A big huge cloud of thunder with a

bolt of lightning coming out of the upper right. I am still feeling battered and

needing to strengthen my resolve. I am thinking of the symbol to find strength

to continue to write even though it is painful for me and the very anathema of

life to my husband. I am truly up against the wall. I am feeling helpless. I am

feeling deflated. Am I doing the right thing?

 

It is Sunday night. I am in my kitchen. It is around nine o'clock. Suddenly, I

hear a loud crash of thunder. As I look out my kitchen window, I see a flash of

lightning. As one who loves thunder and lightning, I immediately run to the door

to see better. Jason runs with me. Then there is a second crash of thunder, then

another flash of lightning. I hear the crash of thunder, then the flash of

lightning, one more time, the third time. Loud and powerful, each crash of

thunder. Beautiful slices of light into the night sky, three bolts of lightning.

The thunder crashes, the lightning slices through the night sky. Three times.

Then silence.

 

There is no forecast for rain or thunderstorms tonight. I am incredulous. No,

that cannot be. I look out into the sky to make sure that no storm has moved in.

The sky is clear. In fact, I can see stars. It was so close to the house, in

full view of my kitchen windows, there was no way I could miss it. Three perfect

crashes of thunder, three perfect flashes of lightning, each one unmistakable in

the night sky and in my ears.

 

There is no turning back. I shake from the very force of all that is happening

to me, my hand just a quiver in the air when I try to hold it still in front of

me and it will not stay still. My whole being is gripped in paroxysms of

disbelief of what I know I have just seen and heard. I shake like this for about

a week before I finally calm down a bit.....

 

An excerpt from Genocide of the Damned...A Child's Prayer for Life, Chapter 4,

Journey to The Top of The Mountain

--

 

 

It was this moment that defined my future path. Where I come from, you do not

ignore thunder and lightning. Although I knew instinctively that I had been

graced by the healing hand, I had not asked for it. At least that is what I

thought. In the beginning, I resisted more than I surrendered. I ranted against

the new presence I felt within whenever things became overwhelming, which was

often. "I did not ask for this. You took me from behind You did not request my

permission."

 

I now know that I was brought to the seminar. High in the mountains overlooking

the very valley where I was born but had not lived for over 25 years. When I

came down from the mountains, I did not come down the same way I went up. There

was a new energy burning in my soul, in my heart, the fire of rebirth and

renewal. Suddenly, I had to write. I could not stop myself. For over three

months I lived and breathed my book, pushed forward again and again by the new

force within me. I could not stop if I wanted to. I did not want to stop. I was

driven.

 

There was no turning back. There was no escape from this . It had to be done and

I had to do it. In the beginning, I was driven by my pain and by my anger. I

wrote to seek revenge and to avenge the hurts. Specifically, the hurt from the

racism at my husband's place of work which resulted in the loss of his job and

the loss of my silence. Part of my agenda was to out them for the racism they

had spewed upon my household. Hate was in my heart for them. I wanted to out the

racist employer who had injured my husband and my family and me. I wanted to

make them hurt because they had hurt me. I wanted to bring them to their knees

the way they brought me and my family to our knees.

 

Yet, as I wrote, I was confronted again and again by the specter of my dead

father, a man of his times who was racist like so many others. A loving decent

man who could not bring himself to accept or meet my husband. After I would

write in earnest, when I was done, I would feel both purged and empty at the

same time.

 

Purged because I had released so many demons. Empty because I did not yet know

what to put in their place. All I could find in myself was anger. Yet my father

had hurt me, too. I had found forgiveness for him. It haunted me everywhere I

turned. No matter where I turned when I attacked them, I was counterattacked by

the ghost of my father's racism and my forgiveness of him.

 

I lost the need to avenge as I found the need to love. Not to love the acts of

the people who hurt me. But to understand the need to love the collective of us.

As I moved into the light, I also found love. I became humbled by the knowledge

that there was so much more than my insular little world. While I felt as if I

walked in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, racism was flourishing around me in

the light of day for all to see and ignore.

 

I began to understand that my call to write and the gift of my words was not so

I could have revenge but so I could find love. That was my calling. To share the

love that was sent my way as I battled my own hatred. So, although this book is

about evil, in the end, it is about love.

 

Eventually, I was graced into surrender. I try to listen. I really do. Now I

have been led here. I come to you seeking assistance with my mission. For I know

that I cannot do it alone without assistance from the many helping hands. I am

asked to speak to the issues of prejudice and hatred, as it relates to the death

of the Spirit, the death penalty in America, and Peace throughout the World.

>From what I have read so far of the posts on this list, it is clear to me that I

belong here for Sustenance and Wisdom as I seek to understand. I embrace That

from whence I come, That to which I am now instinctively drawn. I seek knowledge

of the publication process, so that my words reach the light. I seek guidance as

I write the third draft of the book. If anyone can help me offlist with

information, I humbly request your help. It has waited patiently for several

months for me to reach a point where I am ready to go back to it. It is time.

Mine is to serve.

 

The Upanishads

 

Invocations

 

Lead me from the unreal to the real.

Lead me from darkness to light.

Lead me from death to immortality.

 

 

1

 

May the Lord of Love protect us.

May the Lord of Love nourish us.

May the Lord of Love strengthen us.

May we realize the Lord of Love.

May we live with love for all;

May we live in peace with all.

OM Shanti Shanti Shanti

 

2

 

May the Lord of day grant us peace.

May the Lord of night grant us peace.

May the Lord of sight grant us peace.

May the Lord of might grant us peace.

May the Lord of speech grant us peace.

May the Lord of space grant us peace.

I bow down to Brahman, source of all power.

I will speak the truth and follow the law.

Guard me and my teacher against all harm.

Guard me and my teacher against all harm.

OM Shanti Shanti Shanti

 

3

 

Filled with Brahman are the things we see,

Filled with Brahman are the things we see not,

>From out of Brahman floweth all that is:

>From Brahman all -- yet is he still the same.

OM Shanti Shanti Shanti

 

4

 

May quietness descend upon my limbs,

My speech, my breath, my eyes, my ears;

May all my senses wax clear and strong.

May Brahman show himself unto me.

Never may I deny Brahman, nor Brahman me.

I with him and he with me --

may we abide always together.

May there be revealed to me,

Who am devoted to Brahman,

The holy truth of the Upanishads.

OM Shanti Shanti Shanti

 

5

 

OMWith our ears may we hear what is good.

With our eyes may we behold thy righteousness.

Tranquil in body, may we who worship thee

find rest.

 

OM Shanti Shanti Shanti

OM. . . Hail to the supreme Self!

 

6

 

May my speech be one with my mind,

and may my mind be one with my speech.

O thou self-luminous Brahman,

remove the veil of ignorance from before me,

that I may behold thy light.

Do thou reveal to me

the spirit of the scriptures.

May the truth of the scriptures

be ever present to me.

May I seek day and night to realize

what I learn from the sages.

May I speak the truth of Brahman.

May I speak the truth.

May it protect me.

May it protect my teacher.

OM Shanti Shanti Shanti

 

In Humble Service,

 

Joyce

 

 

 

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