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Hi All,

 

Sometimes it's difficult deciding how much to include

here. I believe it adds texture to include the

personally difficult times along with more general

comments, although I omit some details.

 

J.

 

 

December 31

 

Another sadhana day up on the “green roof” with Amma.

(It’s actually not green, but covered by transparent

green fiberglass sheeting, making the light look

greenish.) More and more visitors just keep coming

for darshan. (Amma just gave me a dynamite smile!)

The devotees wait patiently as the visitors come.

Immediately after lunch there was a group that was

obviously very, very poor. A young girl (12?) in the

group had reddish brown hair instead of black,

presumably from malnutrition. I thought perhaps they

were tribal. It’s hard to tell for someone who knows

as little about the different population groups here

as I do. Mother must be exposed to every germ and

crawling critter in India. The people here are so

poor, and Amma refuses none.

 

 

Later

 

It’s new year’s eve. I just realized that a year ago

tonight I was sitting at my kitchen table writing a

fervent letter to Amma. Now this year I’m sitting in

Amritapuri wondering what in the heck is going on.

Eight hours of sitting on a concrete floor did mein,

and I’m exhausted from lack of sleep, which doesn’t

help, I realize. It seems like everything I projected

onto this relatioship was just that—projection. I

know Amma is real, but right now I really can’t see

how that’s working for me. I feel like a failure.

It’s a far cry from the excitement and enthusiasm I

felt last year.

 

Jan. 1

 

Guess what! I had a great breakfast with Scott

(Manoharan). I believe Ma sent him. Just as I was

filling my water bottle at the main gate, I heard this

cheery voice behind me saying, “Happy New Year!” It

was Scott. He asked me how I was and I told him that

I was having a crisis of faith. He wanted to know

what about, and I said if I talked about it I would

just start crying. At that point he took my bag and

said he was going to get us a table, and he wanted to

hear all about it. So, eyes brimming with tears, I

told him how sad I was. He said he doesn’t know what

Mother’s plan for me (or anyone) is, (who does?), but

he thought my devotion was very touching. He was

radiant and blissful.

 

I felt enough better that I decided to ask Mother some

questions in the darshan line. The questions were (1)

Does Mother accept me totally just the way I am?

Answer: In English, “Yes! Yes!” Then She hugged

me--and I hugged back, but not as long or as hard as I

wanted—and kissed me and called me “Ammakutty” and

hugged and kissed me again. It was a very loving

darshan. (2) Is there anything I should be doing

differently? I had to stand there and wait for the

answer and translation, much longer than her usual

answers. Here it is: “Be a witness. Be like the

water flowing everywhere. Water flows as it is

directed; if someone wants to bathe, let them bathe;

if someone wants to drink, let them drink. Be like

water; be a witness.” That’s the best I can remember

it. At first my mind was full of fighting about this

advice, but this morning (Jan. 2) I feel Her grace

flowing like a river through me and am trusting that I

will be guided about when to “be like water flowing

everywhere.” I am praying for obedience because the

mind wants to find fault. Scott liked that second

answer a lot!

 

Jan. 2

 

I have a little extra time now, so I will record a few

tidbits gained over the time I’ve been here.

 

X said Amma says it’s enough for westerners just to be

here in order to progress spiritually. It’s so hard

for them to be here that sadhana is not as important.

Scott said yesterday that being here is tapas

(spiritual penance or austerity.)

 

A nice gal here named D told me a story about buying a

shawl for Mother to bless. (I’ve seen Amma do this

hundreds of times. With a delighted smile, she takes

the shawl and puts it around the person, pulling them

to her and embracing them, all in her usual fashion.)

D was feeling sick this particular night, but looking

forward to Mother’s fond embrace. When she got up to

Mother’s lap and held out the shawl, Mother looked at

her with a surprised, delighted smile and exclaimed,

“For me?!” Startled, D blurted out, “No, it’s for

me!” Mother looked very angry, made an unpleasant

sound, and hurled the shawl at D. Poor D went back to

her seat on the floor in front of Mother and cried for

four solid hours. However, when she awoke the next

day, the illness she had felt was gone, and she said

she understood at a very deep level that something had

been lifted from her.

 

My roommate V makes malas and gives them to Mother

everytime she goes for darshan. Mother wears them for

a while and then they are sold for a higher price

since Mother wore them. A few days ago on her way out

after darshan, B called to V and told her that Mother

wanted to know her name. V told her and of course

felt very happy that Mother had asked her name. A few

days later another older woman devotee told V that a

swamini was looking for a woman named V who had been a

Baba Muktananda devotee and made malas. V couldn’t

figure out how anyone here knew that she had been a

Muktananda devotee. Well, of course, when she finally

contacted the swamini, the swamini told her that

Ammachi had told her that! There are no secrets from

Amma!

 

Our fourth roommate, S, apparently decided sleeping on

the roof was more to her liking than sharing our room,

so at this writing we are still three.

 

The day before yesterday K, C, P and I took

autorickshaws into Kollam to get train tickets for our

Calicutt trip. Our trip took from 10:00 a.m. to 3:30

p.m. First we went by boat to the village. As P and

I were heading for a rickshaw one of those awful

salesmen types came toward me saying “Hi!” and I was

feeling very trapped, but P just grabbed my arm and

propelled me right past him. (Whew!) We shared the

one hour ride to Quilon, now reverting to the

pre-British name of Kollam. (The taxi driver had to

go by and stop at his house to get his official taxi

driver shirt in order to take us to Kollam!)

 

My overall impression of the Indian roads is that of

unbridled pollution. The fumes are really strong and

pollution control seems unheard of. The roads are

rough with detours around places where they are

working. Women carry rough, jagged rocks in baskets

atop their heads and bring them to male workers who

put them down for a roadbed. They are wearing THONGS

to walk on these rough, sharp rocks all day!!

 

We attract attention in Kollam (we attract attention

everywhere in India) as we ride along the streets.

When we get to the train station there are only men

there, and a sign announces, “No ladies except those

traveling alone or with small children.” We don’t fit

either of those categories, but no one seems

concerned. There is a 45 minute wait while K and P

decide what to do. The worst part is standing. P

tells me to keep an eye out for young C, who is

sitting alone on a bench. She is perfectly content,

saying her mantra, and is not bothered. For reasons

not clear to me, we have to share tickets, two persons

per ticket. Of course only one person can carry the

ticket, but so be it.

 

Tickets purchased, we go back outside where our

rickshaw drivers await and have them take us to Danya,

a supermarket, Indian style. I purchase a spoon and a

stainless steel cup. Then we are off to an authentic

Indian restaurant that K is familiar with. There are

the usual calls and interest when we go in. It seems

more like a house than a commercial establishment.

The food is good, but I make the mistake of eating

with my left hand and feel lots of eyes on me. There

is a faucet and sink right in the center of the place

for washing (rinsing) hands, so I go up and rinse my

hand and then return to the table and commence eating

with my right hand. Then we do some shopping. I

purchase a book of Malayalam grammar in a bookstore

and then posters for my friends in a street

stall—surrounded by onlookers naturally. I know the

prices are very inflated for us, but I figure the

posters still only cost about 15 cents each. (It’s

still frustrating to feel that advantage has been

taken.) Then the long ride back to Vallikavu.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Send Flowers for Valentine's Day

 

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Ammachi, Ellen Lamb <jyotsna2> wrote:

> Hi All,

>

> Sometimes it's difficult deciding how much to include

> here. I believe it adds texture to include the

> personally difficult times along with more general

> comments, although I omit some details.

>

> J.

 

Hi Jyotsna,

 

Namah Shivaya.

 

You are right about the difficulty of including things; that's a

judgement call. But if you have to err, please do so on the side of

inclusion than omission! :)....

 

I just wanted to say that I enjoy your diary notes thoroughly (I

don't write diaries). They sound like everyday events, but with a

different note to it. I also appreciate your courage to share this

diary entry where you revealed some of your "pit" times (or "low-

energy" times).

 

I note that you use alphabets in place of people's names.... and keep

wondering what will happen if the total number of characters, in the

total number of diary entries you decide to share with us, exceeds

26? Perhaps you will start naming them as AA, BB, etc... just kidding.

 

Keep writing more...

 

Jai Ma!

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:) yes, Jyotsna, i do enjoy your diaries very much

too. thanks for sharing.

 

jai ma!

 

-c

 

 

--- "manoj_menon <manoj_menon"

<manoj_menon wrote:

> Ammachi, Ellen Lamb

> <jyotsna2> wrote:

> > Hi All,

> >

> > Sometimes it's difficult deciding how much to

> include

> > here. I believe it adds texture to include the

> > personally difficult times along with more general

> > comments, although I omit some details.

> >

> > J.

>

> Hi Jyotsna,

>

> Namah Shivaya.

>

> You are right about the difficulty of including

> things; that's a

> judgement call. But if you have to err, please do so

> on the side of

> inclusion than omission! :)....

>

> I just wanted to say that I enjoy your diary notes

> thoroughly (I

> don't write diaries). They sound like everyday

> events, but with a

> different note to it. I also appreciate your courage

> to share this

> diary entry where you revealed some of your "pit"

> times (or "low-

> energy" times).

>

> I note that you use alphabets in place of people's

> names.... and keep

> wondering what will happen if the total number of

> characters, in the

> total number of diary entries you decide to share

> with us, exceeds

> 26? Perhaps you will start naming them as AA, BB,

> etc... just kidding.

>

> Keep writing more...

>

> Jai Ma!

>

>

 

 

 

Send Flowers for Valentine's Day

 

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