Transformation of the Heart - Chapter 5

[Guest guest]

LETTING GO IS LETTING GOD IN(By : Judy Warner)"Your

hearts are my home! Swami will safeguard the purity of your heart which

is His home. Swami will bless you with His presence, around, beside,

behind and before you. Remember three things always: Always serve,

wherever you are. Seek chances to help others. Never lose an

opportunity to use your skills and enthusiasm for the alleviation of

sorrow, pain and distress. Again, do not omit or neglect or postpone

your own particular spiritual practice. Above all, have the faith that

Swami is with you, at all times and places."- Sathya Sai Baba -It

was in September, 1984, that I first heard of Sathya Sai Baba. In one

sentence I can say : My whole life has changed. I am almost totally

devoted to Baba or the God within. How this happened, I don't quite

understand, by maybe if I recall some of the events of my life and my

experiences with Baba, the understanding will come.I have spent

most of my life developing self-confidence and ego, for as a child, I

had very little sense of my own worth. I was brought up in New York

City in an upper middle class family which was highly competitive. My

father was a Supreme Court Judge, my mother, an important and

influential person in the United Jewish Appeal, and my brother, a

famous television producer. It took me thirty-five years before I

realized that I was my self and not the judge's daughter, the

producer's sister or some appendage of my family. Finally, at 43, I

realized I had everything I wanted : two marvelous, healthy children,

an ideal long term relationship, wonderful friends and enough money and

success. Yet, there was something still gnawing at me; something deep

down inside was missing. I used to say to my friends, "No one will ever

feel fulfilled unless he finds a connection with something larger than

himself - the Source, God, whatever you want to call it."In

1983, after completing an enormous effort, co-producing and co-writing

the music and lyrics for a musical, I made the decision for the first

time in my life not to decide

what I would do next. Somehow, my need to prove myself and my desire

for recognition no longer seemed important. However, this was not an

easy decision. Actually, it made me very nervous, for I would have to

wait, be patient and experience the anxiety of not knowing. Instead of

diving head first into a new project, I was going to try out to trust

that something would evolve naturally for me.A year later, I read two books about Sri Sathya Sai Baba : The Holy Man and the Psychiatrist and Avatar.

I became completely entranced with the human values expressed by Sai

Baba. I felt his love and a special vibration in any book about or by

him. I had already read widely in the field of human consciousness and

spirituality. As a matter of fact, by a coincidence (if you believe in

coincidences), I had recently started working as a freelance editor

with a new publishing company in this exact field. I had read Ram Dass,

Muktananda, Paramahansa Yogananda; and they all said many wonderful

things, but none had ever moved me like Sai Baba.When I read, "Let the different faiths exist, let them flourish, and let the glory of God be sung in all languages and in a variety of tunes";

and when I learned that, unlike most other gurus, Sai Baba does not

accept money, I became very interested in him. However, it was these

words of Swami's that captured my heart, for this is exactly what I

believed :There is only one religion -the religion of LoveThere is only one caste -the caste of humanityThere is only one language -the language of the heartThere is only one God -He is Omnipresent.Less

that three months later, on January 10, 1985, a friend and I were on

our way to India. We flew to Bangalore, rested a few days, gathered

supplies and, excitedly, left for Baba's ashram in Puttaparthi.The

first day at the ashram was really a shock. First of all, I had been

assigned a room to myself by the accommodations office, with no

furniture, no fan, a bathroom which consisted of a hole in the floor,

with a faucet four feet off the ground for washing in cold water. This

was not exactly inspiring. Secondly, there was an atmosphere of

devotion and reverence that was completely unfamiliar to me. At once, I

realized that I was there to look inward, and that I would have to

detach from all the externals or I wouldn't last another day.Miraculously,

within twenty-four hours, I had begun to ignore the austerities and to

accept the extremely devotional attitude of some of the devotees. I

would learn my way and let them have theirs.On the second day,

my friend and I were out taking pictures. We had one picture left, and

Baba came right by us in the car. He smiled at me - a smile that went

right into my heart. I felt my heart physically open up. My friend

looked at me and saw me grinning from ear to ear. "You're all flushed

and radiant. I never saw you look like this before." For a minute, I

was totally overcome with the love I had received from Baba. Then I

said, "Do you think he was really smiling at me or because you were

taking a picture?" I heard myself. I couldn't believe what I had said.

"That's what Baba means by the monkey mind," I exclaimed. "I can't

believe that after such a powerful feeling, I could say that.

Unbelievable!" But what a lesson. I felt Baba had taught the necessity

of training the mind to focus, to be one pointed, and this was

essential for me because, by nature, I am very analytical. I decided

right there to suspend disbelief and every time I was tempted to doubt

my experience, I would say, "Sohum," the mantra I had chosen from my

readings. It means, "I am He."Darshan means "in the presence of

a holy being." During darshan, Baba gives his blessing, takes letters

and indicates which people are to go into the temple for an interview.

In the beginning, I was waiting to see a miracle or to get called for

an interview; in other words, I was into expectation and desire. After

Baba gave me that huge smile, I felt different during darshan - more

able to receive - more open and loving.At first glance you areBut a small man in an orange robeSometimes stern, sometimes smilingYou smiled at me andGave me a glimmer of Your radianceWhen next I saw YouLove enveloped me andA tear caressed my cheekI beg YouCome into my heart andShow me I am One with You.Listening

to my first lecture at the ashram, I got a very helpful clue. The

speaker, an American devotee and ashram resident, said, "Don't spend

your time here wondering if Baba is divine; look for the divinity

within yourself." How right that felt to me. A miracle would be nice

but that wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to feel my connection with God.

I believe in God, and I believe in myself and in following my own heart

and conscience, but I wanted to feel that my heart and conscience were

not mine alone. Daily I wrote letters to Baba which helped clarify my

own thoughts about what I wanted.I also began to think about my

life, and I wondered why I seemed to have so many crisis. I had lost

both my parents before I was 30. My brother had died in a plane crash

in 1979. I had had an operation for the removal of a lump on my thyroid

in 1975 when I was 35 (it turned out to be benign). I had had an

unusually difficult divorce in 1976. AND my children had been in the

hospital three times within a year-and-a-half in 1980-81.I was

always a "survivor" in these situation, but I knew deep inside that

there had to be a better way to live through these experiences. Yet,

perhaps I needed these crisis. Maybe they were teaching me to

surrender. In fact, it was the night before my youngest daughter's

spinal operation, after a year of trying all kinds of techniques to

arrest the spinal curvature, and in a state of total exhaustion, the I

finally did let go. I actually prayed to something or someone, saying,

"There is nothing more I can do. Thy will be done."What

happened was truly incredible : the operation was not only a success -

the whole hospital experience was easy. I was able to be supportive and

loving without my usual fear and anxiety. This was my first recognition

of how God reveals himself, if we truly surrender to him.In

those first days at the ashram, I found bhajans strange. I couldn't

sing them in Sanskrit or Hindi, and, event though I had written music

myself, I found it hard to relate to them musically. After a week or

so, I began to find them pleasing and was able to feel the surge of

energy they evoked.Twice during bhajans, I smelled a peculiar

sweet fragrance around me. It was the same fragrance I had noticed on

two occasions back home while reading the Baba books. I asked the woman

sitting next to me if she smelled anything. She didn't. I said, "It

smells like vibhuti. Maybe that's what it is." But why this fragrance

at home? I remember getting up and looking in the kitchen when it

happened but I had found nothing. The woman next to me then said,

"That's wonderful. Vibhuti is a sign from Baba to let you know he's

with you." After she said that, others told me similar stories.On

that first visit, Baba never took letters from me, nor did he talk to

me. However, I must confess that he looked at me quite a few times; and

every time he did, I felt my heart opening, releasing a flow of love.One afternoon at darshan, I realized I was

blessed. Another day I realized that although I wanted an interview, I

didn't need one. And most important, I realized that where I chose to

put my attention was where I would be : focus was everything. Every day

I learned something new, but it wasn't intellectual learning; it was

learning from the heart. However, the most wonderful miracle was

feeling totally calm and completely at PEACE for the first time in my

life. Sure, I have known happiness, but this was a "PEACE that passeth

understanding."After I returned from my first trip to India, I

joined the Sai Baba Center in Manhattan and began to enjoy singing

devotional songs and doing service. At this point in my life, I knew I

needed satsang, as Baba calls it - being with others on the spiritual path.You ask meIs Baba Divine?How can I answerWhen I have barely touchedMy own DivinityThat He isMore than a manI am sureBut to knowHe is DivineI must knowThat I am too.*****I

returned to India on November 7, 1985, for Baba's 60th birthday

celebration. There is no way to describe Baba's love and generosity. He

was always outside giving darshan, giving gifts, giving free food for a

week and, of course, giving love. Truly, his life is his message.One

morning, I awoke with intermittent stomach cramps. I went to darshan

but decided I should rest and skip bhajans. However, at five minutes to

nine, a friend said, "Come on, let's go. Maybe bhajans will make you

feel better."When I arrived at the temple, all places were

filled so I wandered around outside and finally sat down on a stoop

next to a lovely new friend of mine from Australia. Not more than two

minutes had passed when she said to me, "Oh, they're calling the chair

ladies. That's me. Baba's giving out saris. I can't go in with this;

will you hold it for me?" She handed me a big straw mat and happily

fought her way through the crowds onto the temple grounds.About

ten minutes later, I saw her signaling to me. I thought she wanted her

mat back, so I slowly got up to hand it to her when she said, "Let the

lady through." She then reached for me and pulled me through the crowd

that was ten deep. "Go, sit down," she said, "Baba's giving out saris

to the Westerners." I was totally stunned, partly from what was

happening, but also because I was feeling ill and passive.Within

minutes, Baba was walking directly in front of us. He seemed to be

deciding which material and color best suited each person. He had a few

plain colored, satiny silk ones left. Would I get one of these? If so,

which color would he choose for me? All of a sudden, there he was,

directly in front of me. He gently dropped an orange sari in my lap. I

was stunned, in awe. It was too much for me to absorb. I could not get

over the "non-coincidence" of this event. I thought, "If one friend

hadn't said to go to bhajans, and if another hadn't told me Baba was

giving out saris, I would not be sitting here now."One day,

while we were waiting to go in for darshan, a seva dal (service

worker), asked for volunteers to give up bhajans in order to help clear

the stadium for the birthday celebrations. So, after darshan, I walked

alone to the Hill View Stadium. When I arrived, I walked toward the

stage, all the time looking for some Westerners to join. I didn't find

any, so I squatted near some Indian women and observed what they were

doing. I found myself a sharp stone and, using it like a spade, dug the

weeds and stones out of the hard ground in order to make it more

comfortable for all those who would be sitting there during the

birthday week. For me, it was physically hard work - hard on my hands

and hard on my back. But the Indian women were so happy to see me. They

asked me all kinds of questions. We spoke and laughed together as best

we could, Baba being our shared interest. I felt so happy doing this

work among all these accepting, loving faces - all from another world.

I was beginning to experience, for the first time, the joy of service,

and then all of a sudden, the women started singing bhajans - bhajans I

knew, like "Ganesha Sharanam" and "Shivaya Nama Shiva". I couldn't

believe it! At that time, I only knew a handful of bhajans - which

never seemed to be sung at the temple, and now, here I was, able to

sing along with everyone. My joy was complete.I was, once

again, convinced that Baba had arranged this experience especially for

me - service was one of the best spiritual practices for this upper

middle class city "sophisticate."Around mid-November, as the

crowds began to grow, I knew I had to watch myself; it would be easy to

become irritated and angry because of the mere numbers of people. Twice

I did lose my self-control; that there was a third time, with the

crowds at over a half a million people, when I couldn't move at all -

not forward or backward or to either side. Everyone was pushing. I

cried, "Shanti, shanti," but no one would listen. I became really

frightened because there were moments when I was lifted off the ground

from the sheer pressure of the crowd. I was desperate; I had to do

something - but what? I thought of Baba, and crazy as it may seem, I

began to sing, "Shivaya Nama Shiva." Only one man joined in; but

miraculously, a tiny space opened up and I slipped through to safety.On

the morning of November 17th, Baba gave his valedictory discourse in

the enormously crowded Poornachandra Hall. When Baba spoke, and the

translator translated, I could understand - nothing. Then, all of a

sudden, it didn't matter because I could actually feel Baba's voice

melting my heart. Was it the gentleness, the tone, the vibration? At no

other time was I able to experience this profound feeling. I wondered

then if understanding mattered; after all, I could always read the

discourse later. If I could feel my heart melting, what more could I

possibly want?My final highlight of the trip occured on

November 22nd, after the overseas devotees had sung to Baba. I was in

the chorus and I was very close to the stage. When Baba left in his

car, I waved to him, and guess what? He waved back. I was totally

overcome. For the first and only time in my life, I experienced

universal love : I loved everyone. I don't know how to explain this

intense and expansive feeling, but it does exist. This euphoria must

have lasted in all its strength for about half an hour and then gently

subsided.The feelings evoked by these experiences have not

remained, and yet because they were so powerful, I long to repeat them.

I want to live in PEACE, BLISS, UNIVERSAL LOVE, and SERVICE. I am

grateful that Baba has given me a taste of all of these. As a result of

these experiences, I am now beginning to see the world and my life

differently : A New York City bus becomes a love bus where passengers

offer each other seats and smile at each other... people help each

other across the street... bag ladies and bums no longer seem

threatening... people talk kindly to one another. Where have all the

self-centered, inconsiderate New Yorkers gone? So, I am proving to

myself that living by Baba's teachings - "seeing good, hearing good and

doing good" - does indeed change my reality.My life is truly

blessed. Baba says, "Be happy," and I am. The practice of Karma Yoga,

dedicating all my actions to the Lord, with no eye on the fruits of my

actions, has helped me enormously. Because I have been such a goal

oriented person, this discipline has relieved me of the outcome, which

often meant anxiety for me. Now I am more focused on the process of

life; after all, the fruits are not mine, but the effort still is.I

believe now that Baba is divine; I can't tell you quite how or when

this crystallized. But most important, I believe we are all divine. It

is now up to us to purify ourselves so that we can experience - not

just intuit - our own divinity.Before You cameWe lived as victims in a random UniverseFull of fear and separatenessNever knowing why, never knowing whoNever know Sai, never knowing YouThen You cameWe learned of our strength in a perfect UniverseFull of Love and unityContemplating why, contemplating whoContemplating Sai, contemplating You.*****It

is now almost three years since I read my first book about Sathya Sai

Baba. During these years, I have become steeped in the spiritual path

and its practices. Yet sometimes I have asked myself if I have truly

changed or if I am only playing another game and wearing yet another

mask? I have heard this referred to as "spiritual materialism," and I

have wondered if I have fallen into this trap. But something happened

recently which indicated to me that there are changes going on - deep

important ones.In the spring of 1986, a few of us had begun

going to a nursing home every Saturday morning. We chatted, painted

pictures, gave manicures and sang songs with all who wanted some

company. Before entering the home, I always dedicated my service to

Baba. Giving up the fruits of my actions seemed to endow me with

strength and love.Most of the patients were in wheelchairs and

very sick; few ever returned home. When I first walked down the nursing

home corridors, I was horrified to see the patients so drugged. One

woman was so old, ill and medicated that she was unable to sit up

straight. She was leaning all the way over to one side. As I passed, I

prayed she wouldn't notice me, but no sooner had the thought crossed my

mind, when she signaled me to her side. Of course, I had no choice but

to go over to her. In fear, I quickly re-dedicated my deeds to Baba. I

listened to her story, which I couldn't comprehend at all because of

her slurred speech. I gently stroked her head and left as soon as I

could get away without hurting her feelings or showing my own.After

that incident, I thought a lot about my attitude. Baba says that we are

all God and we must treat all the same. Yet I found, week in and week

out, I was spending time only with those patients I felt comfortable

with and those who didn't upset me because of their appearance. And I

was avoiding anyone who was bossy, angry or difficult for me to look

at. It took a year before I was willing to face this - not just think

about it, but face it and deal with it. I dedicated my services to

Baba, and I asked for the strength to see all as God. I also let Baba

know in my thoughts that I was ready for more challenge.And so,

one Saturday morning, there I was, happily chatting away with some of

the ladies I see all the time, when an unknown man arrived, wheeling a

woman into the room - a woman so crumpled, so disfigured that she could

not keep her body erect; her head was at the level of her waist and her

hands was completely gnarled.I thought, "I hope I can do her

nails and no one else gets to her first." As soon as I was free, I went

over and began to talk quietly to the "new" lady. I massaged her

gnarled hands and even managed to manicure and polish her fingernails.

I don't remember much - only that I was happy and totally engrossed; so

much so, that it was only after I had finished that I realized I had

never seen her as disfigured, nor had I been afraid. As a matter of

fact, what I had noticed was her radiant smile. Somehow, by Swami's

grace, I had been able to see beyond her physical form and relate to

her whole being. I believe this is what Baba means as seeing the divine

in everyone.Open our eyesHelp us to seeOpen our heartsTo love TheeTo love Thee in allAs me, as we, as OneFree us from prideHelp us to beFree from all fearTo love TheeTo love Thee in allAs me, as, as OneA LETTER NEVER MAILED... BUT ANSWEREDDear Baba : September 28, 1987The

honeymoon is over. For two-and-a-half years, I was filled with the glow

of you. You said, "Be happy," and I was. Then what happened? I'm not

sure. I do remember saying to you, "I'm ready for more challenge." As a

matter of fact, I've said many things to you, and now, looking back, I

realize they all came true. I guess we should be very careful what we

pray for.I asked for "more challenge" and that I have. I asked

for less ego and that I have. But I thought that when I had less ego,

I'd be much clearer about what was right for me; I'd begin to tap into

my higher Self. Not true at all. What has happened is, I no longer seem

to need to prove myself or to show I'm smart or creative. As a matter

of fact, I no longer have a desire to do anything and, given my rajasic

personality, this is a scary place to be.It seems that some

other motivation, from deep within, will have to replace the driving

force of my old needs and desires. Perhaps this is a necessary step in

becoming your instrument - the clearing out of some ego in order to

"hear" you. I trust that - sometimes. Other times, I feel so

uncomfortable in this "no place" that I think I will just get a

full-time job or write another show - anything to keep me from despair.I

have read that this stage of hopelessness is connected with surrender.

Our patterns have changed and our ego is diminishing; if we could just

feel this and get into the pain, a new sense of surrender and peace

would follow. Yet, easier said than done.I have always had

resistance to change and to pain. I have always wanted to get through

these as fast as possible. It has been very hard for me to accept the

idea that we must welcome everything that happens to us, good or bad,

knowing it is all the grace of God.However, now I do have the

new tools of spiritual practice and my new core beliefs. I believe in

you, Swami, and your unconditional love, I believe that in pain, there

is growth and I believe this is a necessary stage for me to go through.

Yet, I feel farther away from you than ever before; my mind is a mass

of rubbish, and my joy seems to have been covered over by my resistance

to this process. Baba, I need you to help me let go - to BREAK me so

that I can cry, not only tears of pain, but tears of joy and devotion.Dear

Swami, I ask only one thing of you. Stay with me, or rather, let me be

aware of your presence throughout the journey of this lifetime; then

anything will be welcome.*****In November, 1987, I

became a hospice volunteer. I decided to follow my training with the

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross five day "Life, death, Transition Workshop." I

knew I had, what Elisabeth calls, "unfinished business". For years, I

had been saying, "I think my stuffed sinuses are repressed tears." I

felt that the more in touch I was with myself, the better I would be in

helping those who were about to die, as well as their families.If

I had known what went on in this workshop, I would have run a mile.

What I heard was incredible. Some people had tried to kill themselves,

some were dying of cancer or AIDS, others were abused and molested, one

was a Vietnam veteran who had seen hundreds of his buddies killed or

mutilated.Participants got up in front of the group, nearly

ninety strong, and dealt in few words and mostly feelings with their

issues; expressing their deepest hurts, pains, anger, tears and

screams. And it was scary - wondering what would happen once the

Pandora's Box was opened! At one point, I felt so frightened that I was

ready to leave. I prayed to Baba : "If I'm supposed to be here, give me

a sign - a real sign - nothing vague or abstract. I want a CLEAR sign."

Within a few hours, I found out that one of the eight trainers was a

Sai Baba devotee!After a while, I felt less panicky, as it

became clear our trainers were highly skilled in dealing with these

emotions. After forty people had gone through this process, I began to

see that everyone suffers grief, rage and pain, although in varying

degrees. We are not different; only the circumstances of our lives are

different.One morning, as I sat in meditation, I realized that

I could just get up in front of the group and not know why specifically

- simply trust. Then once I worked through my paralyzing fear, two

thoughts came to mind : I had been setting limits for myself and

protecting myself for years; but this wasn't necessary anymore because

I no longer had anyone to "stay together" for - my children were grown;

I was now living alone. I didn't have to be in charge or in control

anymore. What I did need to do was to "let go" and let Swami in.I

remember only fragments of what I said to the group, but the feelings I

remember well. First, I dedicated this experience to Baba... or I

couldn't have done it at all. I told about the deaths in my amily and

the hospital crisis. I said I had always felt an enormous sense of

responsibility and had always been the "strong" one; I knew I was full

of grief and I wanted to cry, but crying was hard for me. I finally let

go of my control and began to cry gently. But I really wanted to sob

and let it all out.I was then asked if I wanted to go into

another room and work privately to release more of my grief. There I

lay on my back, sobbing as I thought of my mother, father, brother and

my children, and how I hadn't been a perfect mother - sobbing out all

my grief as each one passed through my mind. Everytime I felt stuck, I

prayed to Baba to keep me open and receive my pain. A few times, I

wanted to talk, but the trainer said, "No words - just sounds." And I

knew that was perfect for me; for while I usually knew, intellectually,

what I was feeling, I didn't always allow myself to feel it. And

although I had always had a terrible fear of losing control, this time

my trust in Baba enabled me to let go.The pain in the room

seemed to get lighter as more people got in touch with themselves. The

love and support from the group was absolutely astounding. I felt that

I would never be able to judge others or myself so harshly again, so

deep had been my sense of empathy and connection with all of them. I

was beginning to realize that this was a holy experience.On the

last evening, there was entertainment by the group. All were in a gay

mood celebrating their release and empowerment. I, on the other hand,

began to regress slowly and to feel frightened and little. At the end,

everyone was dancing; and I felt very disconnected, weepy and scared.

Such feelings were alien to me; I normally feel a sense of confidence

and belonging in a group.I began to cry uncontrollably. I

became very scared because I felt powerless; I was a victim, reliving a

childhood terror of my father which I had so often felt before I was

11. Previous therapy had put me in touch with this memory, and yet I

had never fully expressed the actual fear and pain, the feeling of

being a victim. I wondered, would I ever recover and feel strong again?

I only knew that Baba was with me; and that my "grief" for the little

girl inside - so sad and frightened - was a healing grief; and I

realized only by loving her and fully embracing this experience would I

be free of my lifelong compulsion to be "responsible and in control".One

evening, a few days after the workshop was over, I was feeling very

sad, and I remembered that Baba tells us to turn to him. So I went to

my altar and began to sing some devotional songs. When I say : You are my mother, You are my fatherYou are my nearest kin...I

wept like a child. I sang this song over and over letting the tears

flow. I was truly yearning for God. I felt then that I, with my little

ego mind, didn't really know how to be or how to love, and that I had

to get in touch with Baba, my higher self. I guess I needed this

workshop, even though I felt it was such a violent form of

purification. But I had prayed for all this; I had prayed for my heart

to be broken so that I could weep tears of joy, so I could surrender,

so I could serve with true unconditional love, and so I could be closer

to Swami, my higher self, for I, too, am God.After much crying

(remember how I couldn't cry?), I realized that I had to forgive myself

for being less than perfect, especially with my children, yet doing the

best I could with who I was and where I was at. Only when I forgive

myself will I be able to forgive others; only then will I be able to

let go of my control and let everyone be just as they are and where

they are, and not try to change them.I know now what it means

when we are told we must welcome the pain, for we must accept it all in

order to be whole. Yet, how hard it is to welcome suffering, to always

remember that pain is for the purpose of our spiritual growth. I am so

thankful for my experience with Baba, for I know also know that there

is a place behind all the pains and pleasures of existence where we are

whole and perfect, a place beyond body, mind and thought.*****In

this raw state I left for India, in mid-December, 1987. The night

before going to the ashram, I was very tense with worry and longing. I

had my 20-year-old daughter with me, and I was very nervous about what

she would think about Baba and the ashram. (She viewed her trip to

India and Baba as an anthropological study!) In my heart of hearts, I

wanted Baba to capture her as he had captured me; or, at the very

least, I wanted her to believe in God. I kept trying to detach from

this mania of maya by giving her to Baba, but she just kept returning!

Then I realized : if I could not give her to Swami and trust that he

had brought her here and would take care of her, it meant that I had no

faith in him; and all my sadhana had been for naught. With this

realization, I burst into tears. I ardently prayed for two things :

"Baba, please give me some sign of your love, some recognition when I

arrive." And, "Please, let me be able to concentrate on you fully and

not be pulled away from you because of my attachment to my daughter."To

say that my prayers were answered would be an under-statement. During

my first darshan the next day, Baba came over to me and asked where I

was from. I was shocked. He had never spoken directly to me before."Where

am I from?" I said stupefied. "I'm from New York." And in a flash, he

was gone. I wept quietly, and my daughter gently asked if I was all

right.The following morning, at my second darshan, I got into

the first row. Baba again asked me where I was from. This time, I was

prepared."New York," I said expecting him to move on."How many?" he asked."Three," I said."Go."And

the next thing I knew, my daughter and I, and a friend were going for

an interview. My tears flowed in an abundance of joy, gratitude, love

and release.Baba was the perfect host, humoring his guests to

make them feel at home. First, he made vibhuti for the women. It tasted

and smelled fresh from the bakery. Then he spoke for a while, but I was

so busy crying that I didn't hear anything until I saw him raise his

right hand and say, "All the power is in this hand. This is divine

power." Then he asked someone, "What do you want?" Out from his hand

came a watch (set at the right time) for a young student and next, a

lingam for an Italian woman's sick son. He made a ring for a German

man. The ring had Baba's picture on it; Baba passed it around for all

to see, asking the man, "Do you want Baba or Jesus?" When the man

didn't reply, Swami said, "I know. You want Jesus." He blew on the ring

twice, and lo and behold, the ring now had a picture of Jesus on it.Every

time Baba asked someone what they wanted, I repeated to myself, "I only

want love, peace, Self-realization." I kept remembering how Baba says

he gives us what we want so that we will want what he has to give, and

that is realizing our own divinity. I was also thinking that Baba

refers to these miracles as "tinsel" compared to what he could really

give us.Later in the interview, Baba turned to a lady and said, "Where is your japamala?""What?" she said."Where is your mala?" Baba repeated."What?" she said again."WHERE IS YOUR JAPAMALA?" we all chimed in.We

were all laughing, when out of Baba's open hand flowed this 108 bead,

crystal japamala. It was so long... it was so big; it took time to come

out of his hand. And it came out so silently. I was truly awed. I don't

know what happened, but all of a sudden, I wanted a japamala - and

badly. Where this thought came from, I have no idea. I never even

thought about a japamala before nor had I ever used one. I said to

myself, "Okay now, get your priorities straight. Do you really want a

japamala? No. Remember, you want what's really important : peace, love,

to know your Self." It was an uphill battle, but I finally recovered.These

manifestations are marvelous to watch, for they are a constant reminder

of a larger reality. But what I remember most is the gentleness and

sweetness of Baba's voice and his overwhelming unconditional love.

That, for me, was the most striking part.Swami then spoke to us

about making decisions. He said we should ask ourselves : "Is it good?

Is it bad?" We should wait and come to a decision - not from the

intellect but from our conscience and from our hearts. He spoke of

education and how book learning was not enough. We must go past the

mind and past the body and follow conscience and intuition.Baba

said to me directly that my mind was a bundle of desires. At first this

amazed me because I don't need or desire a lot of things. Then I

remembered all my desires of the night before when I had been so

anxious about my daughter. He told me that I sometimes use "sharp

words" and "too many". How true this is, and yet, I was discovering how

easy it is to accept his loving criticism. He also said I was a "good

woman."The atmosphere seemed very gay and light to me. I felt joyful. All of a sudden, I asked Baba if I could have his handkerchief."You want my handkerchief?""Yes, Swami.""Later, when I see you again and speak to you privately.""Do you mean in another lifetime?" I asked.Now,

this may sound bold or rude, but it was said in a light, humorous way.

Swami smiled and repeated that he would see me again and talk to me

privately. I prayed not to get caught up in this expectation.Baba

rose from his chair, and everyone began to touch and kiss his feet. I

remembered that when I first observed people doing this, I had said to

myself, "Not me. That's an Indian custom." But now, I was beginning to

understand the significance of padnamaskar. It means surrender at the

feet of the Lord, which ultimately means surrender to yourself. So,

with great care, I leaned over and timidly kissed his foot.The

last thing Baba did was to give out vibhuti packets, and we all walked

out of the interview room over-flowing with Swami's beauty and

goodness. Only hours later did I realize that I had not worried about

my daughter at all during the interview - I had been totally immersed

in our sweet Lord.I figured from then one I would be in the

back row and that was fine with me. That afternoon, however, I was

again in the first row. Baba came along and looked directly at me and

said, "Very, very happy." And once again, I cried, more joyful tears.This

entire trip was full of grace. After spending a month at the ashram, I

left for a two week trip around India. When I returned for my last

three weeks, my experience was entirely different.This time, I

felt very peaceful. I kept silence the day after my return and

experienced an incredible sense of bliss during afternoon darshan,

bhajans and the period in between. My mind was still chattering away;

but, for the first time, chatter became the background and the bliss,

the foreground. I decided to continue keeping silence during meals,

darshan, bhajans, and while waiting in lines; and to talk only when

absolutely necessary. Silence is, of course, encouraged by Baba, and

now I can see how much is forfeited by unnecessary chatter. For about

five or six days, I didn't need or want any personal attention for I

felt a deep inner connection with Baba - like nothing I had ever

experienced before. With this deeper connection came an awareness of

oneness - there were times when he smiled at someone else, and I felt

he was smiling at me, and I was, on occasion, able to feel the joy of

others when they were receiving Baba's blessing of padnamaskar.So

the first week back was a beautiful inner journey - no attention, no

needs, just bliss from within. And then, guess what? Another interview.

This time, a private one. I was totally unprepared. The minute I got

called for this second interview, my bliss and inner connection with

Swami vanished. As a matter of fact, I was almost mute the whole time,

which I know was Swami's doing. Yes, I was still able to cry my tears

of joy, but my usually sharp mind was just no there. I seemed to be in

another space.During this interview, one of the puzzling things

Baba said to me was "Temper." I gently denied this because I don't get

very angry; I usually express my feelings in the moment so that they

don't get bottled up. But Swami repeated it : "Temper." He said it

sweetly, and I knew if he said it, he must be right.For the

whole day, I was driven crazy by this word. Finally, it dawned on me.

There was another meaning. And when I found out what it was, I could

have cried with joy : it was so perfect, proving, in fact - without a

shadow of a doubt - that Baba knew me. Yes, I had forgotten that

"temper" also means to make more flexible, to soften as in the

tempering of gold.When the private interviews were over,

everyone began taking out photos, books, scraps of paper, cameras or

any token for Baba to sign, as a permanent remembrance of him. I was

completely unprepared - which seemed to be one of my themes for this

trip. (Whatever I expected to happen, never did. And whatever I didn't

expect, happened). I was sitting there rather sadly, when all of a

sudden, I remembered."Swami," I asked nervously, "Could I have your handkerchief?""Not now," he replied curtly.And

then in a complete change of mood, his eyes twinkling playfully, he

picked up his handkerchief and feigning anger, threw it at me as if

appeasing a child. My heart melted and I quickly tucked the

handkerchief next to my breast.When Baba stood up, indicating

that the interview was coming to a close, there was a special moment

for me that I will replay in my mind and heart forever. It was a moment

where Baba showed that he knew me. Baba had been with me during that

Kubler-Ross workshop, while I was rediscovering the little girl inside

me and learning to open up to pain; while I was beginning - just

beginning - to surrender to him. Yes, Baba knew exactly what I needed.

I was sitting right in front of him, and I asked for padnamaskar."Here, take," Swami said as he stood up. He patiently waited as I blissfully kissed both feet.Then

as he turned away from me, with his basket of vibhuti packets in hand,

I quietly said to him, "I love you Baba. You are my mother and my

father."He slowly turned back to me and with the love of a thousand mothers said, "and you are my daughter.""Just

as a loving mother cares for her child, if one has surrendered his life

to God with full faith in Him, the Lord takes care of that devotee; no

need to worry about anything." - Sathya Sai Baba - (From : Transformation of the Heart, compiled and edited by Judy Warner)Copyright reserved by Sri Sathya Sai Books and Publications Trust, Prashanti Nilayam Visit : Sai Divine Inspirations : http://saidivineinspirations.blogspot.com/ Sai Messages : http://saimessages.blogspot.com/ Love Is My Form : http://loveismyform.blogspot.com/