Prayers and a (long) story

[Guest guest]

Aum Amriteswaryai Namah.

 

Since my post a few weeks ago, I've been thinking a lot about my

attachment to Amma's physical form, and would like to share this story, in

partial response to the question of reaching Amma -- whether by prayer,

letter, plane, etc. -- to let her know how troubled you are by something.

 

The way I "met" Amma was when I was in crisis. My father and I were in an

awful fight and as a result my grandmother threatened to disown me and

never speak to me again. As she was the most loving presence in my life,

this was a terrible blow, and I fell into a deeply disturbed anguish. I

was not suicidal, per se, but the shock of my Nana's threat and the

prospect of being cut off from her emotionally together produced a feeling

of numbness and sense of non-existence that felt.... well, just awful. I

screamed, I banged my head against the wall in disbelief, I slumped into a

vegetable-like stupor. Within an hour after the phone call, I honestly

thought I would die of a broken heart.

 

My boyfriend at the time of course was very worried, and as we were both

Roman Catholic, he brought me an old framed picture of the Blessed Virgin

Mary that *his* grandmother used to pray to, and propped it up next to my

bed so I could look at her face. I can't remember if my mind could even

form the words of the Hail Mary prayer to the Queen of Heaven, but the

aura of the icon decidely calmed me. Nevertheless, it was still a

desperate state.

 

I don't know how or when the next events occurred, but also in my room was

a large 7x7 foot abstract painting that Greg (my then boyfriend) had made

in a three-part meditation on the Blessed Mother. One painting was red,

one was yellow, this one was blue. It was full of Her crosses (with the

circle around the middle intersection), and blue and white with some

silver or gold metal embedded in it. And as I gazed at the wall, a

strange mist appeared in its midst -- a cloud that came out into the room,

but also extended "deep" into the picture, swirling and pure. Like a

living fog.

 

The form of a woman draped in white appeared in the middle of the

whiteness, and I KNEW it was the Blessed Mother, but I was confused... and

not just because, you know, people aren't supposed to just appear in the

midst of your apartment! But the disconnect unplugged me from my grief,

and all the pain I had been feeling was being replaced by this incredulous

awe and wonder.

 

She had dark skin, I realized, thinking, "Ah, it is the indigenous

Goddess, the Lady of Guadalupe. No, no, she wears brilliant pink and red.

This Mother is in white clothes..." Utter confusion set in, that point

where the brain just can't process the data coming at it, but the vision

was calming. I understood that I was not to worry, and that everything

was going to be alright.

 

Everything, She said, is going to be all right.

 

With that, she stepped back in to the cloud and it melted and swirled back

into the picture, and I must have fallen asleep. Later, it felt like a

dream, surreal, a hallucination of some sort, perhaps. A few days later,

however, I walked down the block into a Minneapolis bookstore that

specializes in herbalism, spirituality, and esoterica. As was my

practice, I visited the section on Saints, and found a dark green book

with a smiling woman (our dear Amma) on the front. As I started reading

the stories, a strange sensation began to percolate, and I began flipping

back to the cover, wondering, thinking... Isn't that the woman who

appeared in my room? The more I read, the stronger my feeling got... Mind

you, I had never consciously heard of this Mata Amritanandamayi or seen

her picture.

 

It took me three more years to correlate travel plans with Mother's

schedule, 'tho when the time came to get me to the ashram I was literally

pushed there -- another one of her books jumped off the shelf into my

hands when I was travelling in Arizona, and then I met someone who showed

me the phone number in the book for driving directions to the ashram (and

he also told me himself how to find it).

 

They say when the student is ready, the Master will appear. She walked

out of a painting and comforted me at my deepest hour of pain, turned my

static notions of the Blessed Virgin Mary into stardust in Her cosmic

realignment, and then drew me to Her when the time was right. She "knows"

what we need, and gives it to us when we are properly prepared to accept

it. Achieving equanimity between the good (oh, God loves me!) and the bad

(oh, God is displeased with me) is an arduous process, and I trust, Robin,

that Mother is there holding you up, even if you don't see her Footprints

in the sand, carrying you across this challenging time.

 

We are all extraordinarily blessed to have reached the feet of such a

Being, and I pray that Her grace will continue to protect and guide all of

us as we struggle with life's experiences and churn the negativity into

positive, nectarious, supreme Peace and Love.

 

Pranams to Amma! Pranams to Devi! Pranams to Lord Krishna!

 

xoPrashanti

[Guest guest]

Namah Shivaya dear Siblings in Amma,

 

The Feast Day of Our Lady of Guadalupe is this coming Thursday.

 

Aum Amriteshvaryai Namah

[Guest guest]

Truly inspiring! Thank you for sharing that.

 

Ammachi, Rachel Barrett Gallop <mart0167@t...>

wrote:

> Aum Amriteswaryai Namah.

>

> Since my post a few weeks ago, I've been thinking a lot about my

> attachment to Amma's physical form, and would like to share this

story, in

> partial response to the question of reaching Amma -- whether by

prayer,

> letter, plane, etc. -- to let her know how troubled you are by

something.

>

> The way I "met" Amma was when I was in crisis. My father and I

were in an

> awful fight and as a result my grandmother threatened to disown me

and

> never speak to me again. As she was the most loving presence in my

life,

> this was a terrible blow, and I fell into a deeply disturbed

anguish. I

> was not suicidal, per se, but the shock of my Nana's threat and the

> prospect of being cut off from her emotionally together produced a

feeling

> of numbness and sense of non-existence that felt.... well, just

awful. I

> screamed, I banged my head against the wall in disbelief, I slumped

into a

> vegetable-like stupor. Within an hour after the phone call, I

honestly

> thought I would die of a broken heart.

>

> My boyfriend at the time of course was very worried, and as we were

both

> Roman Catholic, he brought me an old framed picture of the Blessed

Virgin

> Mary that *his* grandmother used to pray to, and propped it up next

to my

> bed so I could look at her face. I can't remember if my mind could

even

> form the words of the Hail Mary prayer to the Queen of Heaven, but

the

> aura of the icon decidely calmed me. Nevertheless, it was still a

> desperate state.

>

> I don't know how or when the next events occurred, but also in my

room was

> a large 7x7 foot abstract painting that Greg (my then boyfriend)

had made

> in a three-part meditation on the Blessed Mother. One painting was

red,

> one was yellow, this one was blue. It was full of Her crosses

(with the

> circle around the middle intersection), and blue and white with some

> silver or gold metal embedded in it. And as I gazed at the wall, a

> strange mist appeared in its midst -- a cloud that came out into

the room,

> but also extended "deep" into the picture, swirling and pure. Like a

> living fog.

>

> The form of a woman draped in white appeared in the middle of the

> whiteness, and I KNEW it was the Blessed Mother, but I was

confused... and

> not just because, you know, people aren't supposed to just appear

in the

> midst of your apartment! But the disconnect unplugged me from my

grief,

> and all the pain I had been feeling was being replaced by this

incredulous

> awe and wonder.

>

> She had dark skin, I realized, thinking, "Ah, it is the indigenous

> Goddess, the Lady of Guadalupe. No, no, she wears brilliant pink

and red.

> This Mother is in white clothes..." Utter confusion set in, that

point

> where the brain just can't process the data coming at it, but the

vision

> was calming. I understood that I was not to worry, and that

everything

> was going to be alright.

>

> Everything, She said, is going to be all right.

>

> With that, she stepped back in to the cloud and it melted and

swirled back

> into the picture, and I must have fallen asleep. Later, it felt

like a

> dream, surreal, a hallucination of some sort, perhaps. A few days

later,

> however, I walked down the block into a Minneapolis bookstore that

> specializes in herbalism, spirituality, and esoterica. As was my

> practice, I visited the section on Saints, and found a dark green

book

> with a smiling woman (our dear Amma) on the front. As I started

reading

> the stories, a strange sensation began to percolate, and I began

flipping

> back to the cover, wondering, thinking... Isn't that the woman who

> appeared in my room? The more I read, the stronger my feeling

got... Mind

> you, I had never consciously heard of this Mata Amritanandamayi or

seen

> her picture.

>

> It took me three more years to correlate travel plans with Mother's

> schedule, 'tho when the time came to get me to the ashram I was

literally

> pushed there -- another one of her books jumped off the shelf into

my

> hands when I was travelling in Arizona, and then I met someone who

showed

> me the phone number in the book for driving directions to the

ashram (and

> he also told me himself how to find it).

>

> They say when the student is ready, the Master will appear. She

walked

> out of a painting and comforted me at my deepest hour of pain,

turned my

> static notions of the Blessed Virgin Mary into stardust in Her

cosmic

> realignment, and then drew me to Her when the time was right. She

"knows"

> what we need, and gives it to us when we are properly prepared to

accept

> it. Achieving equanimity between the good (oh, God loves me!) and

the bad

> (oh, God is displeased with me) is an arduous process, and I trust,

Robin,

> that Mother is there holding you up, even if you don't see her

Footprints

> in the sand, carrying you across this challenging time.

>

> We are all extraordinarily blessed to have reached the feet of such

a

> Being, and I pray that Her grace will continue to protect and guide

all of

> us as we struggle with life's experiences and churn the negativity

into

> positive, nectarious, supreme Peace and Love.

>

> Pranams to Amma! Pranams to Devi! Pranams to Lord Krishna!

>

> xoPrashanti