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It all started with a question :- Why is this happening to me ?

 

I look at the people who look serene . How do you do it ?

 

They said :- Keep doing this sadhana constantly ... you too will come

to love God as much as we do. That will give you the peace that you

seek.

 

I start and keep doing ... after a while I can fake it no longer. I

cannot visualize a loving mother or all-knowing father taking care

of me.

 

So I ask , you are feeling the love. Why cant I ?

 

My question is now : - Why is this not happening to me ?

 

They said :- Keep at the Sadhana ...

 

I promise :- I WILL keep at it, and polish it and refine it and ....KEEP AT IT.

 

A calm came over me with the resolution to keep at the sadhana.

 

Love will come .... when it has to.

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JAI MA!!!!!, this is the best thing i have read yet. repeat the

name of GOD till your tired..... then do it some more.

WORSHIP-MEDITATE-WORSHIP-MEDITATE-WORSHIP-MEDITATE-WORSHIP-MEDITATE-

WORSHIP-MEDIATE-WORSHIP-MEDITATE-WORSHIP-MEDITATE-WORSHIP-MEDITATE.

i don't know what comes next i am just on worshipping and meditating.

, "Latha Nanda" <lathananda>

wrote:

> It all started with a question :- Why is this happening to me ?

>

> I look at the people who look serene . How do you do it ?

>

> They said :- Keep doing this sadhana constantly ... you too will

come

> to love God as much as we do. That will give you the peace that

you

> seek.

>

> I start and keep doing ... after a while I can fake it no longer.

I

> cannot visualize a loving mother or all-knowing father taking

care

> of me.

>

> So I ask , you are feeling the love. Why cant I ?

>

> My question is now : - Why is this not happening to me ?

>

> They said :- Keep at the Sadhana ...

>

> I promise :- I WILL keep at it, and polish it and refine it

and ....KEEP AT IT.

>

> A calm came over me with the resolution to keep at the sadhana.

>

> Love will come .... when it has to.

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The corridor is always open to the pujari. It is the pujari's task to

traverse throught it, not unlike going through the eye of a needle. A

camel can cross the desert of samsara with a few little stop overs at

the owasis. At each sitting to a puja, the traveler gets refreshed,

then moves on and on.

 

, "Latha Nanda" <lathananda>

wrote:

> It all started with a question :- Why is this happening to me ?

>

> I look at the people who look serene . How do you do it ?

>

> They said :- Keep doing this sadhana constantly ... you too will

come

> to love God as much as we do. That will give you the peace that you

> seek.

>

> I start and keep doing ... after a while I can fake it no longer. I

> cannot visualize a loving mother or all-knowing father taking

care

> of me.

>

> So I ask , you are feeling the love. Why cant I ?

>

> My question is now : - Why is this not happening to me ?

>

> They said :- Keep at the Sadhana ...

>

> I promise :- I WILL keep at it, and polish it and refine it

and ....KEEP AT IT.

>

> A calm came over me with the resolution to keep at the sadhana.

>

> Love will come .... when it has to.

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Dear Latha,

Well, I know perseverence pays off, and patience.

But we can dry up and out so easily when we try so hard, when

our nose gets skinned from being too close to that grindstone,

when our sincerity and integrity pushes us into the realm of Too Much

and we lose heart. Even though wandering in the desert is usually

a part of our spiritual quest, and that we may need to wander there quite a

long time.

Here is a story I heard a long time ago, and I just thought of:

 

It's called The Three Golden Hairs

 

There once was an old, old, old man. He was so very old that most of his

teeth were missing, and his skin hung in many folds from his skeletal body.

Only a few hairs remained on his head, and his eyes were dimmed and milky.

His body was weak, and trembled. He walked unsteadily in the darkest of

nights--that kind of moonless dark where you can barely see in front of your

face.

The old man carried a lantern, with a light inside. As he stumbled along on

the rocky, uneven ground, his light sputtered and grew lower, and he grew

weaker, but still he kept on; as he moved along the ground, he became so

weak, that he stumbled, and fell, but still holding on to his tiny light, he

continued on his way, now crawling on the ground, feeling the way with his

one hand, and on his knees.

On and on he went like this, slowly, and painfully, and the light got dimmer

and dimmer and dimmer, and the night was very cold as well as very dark, but

still he kept on, and on and on, moving along on the ground, slowly, slowly.

And the light got so dim, it was barely there, just a tiny, tiny blue flame.

The old man was gasping and wheezing, nearly in despair, but he did not

stop and he did not put down the lantern.

After a very, very long time, endless time, in the distance the old man saw

another light, far away, and he continued to crawl slowly and painfully toward

that light, closer and closer. As he approached, the light gave shape

to the surroundings, and one could barely discern it was light coming from a

window. After a long while, the old man came to the doorstep, and collapsed,

onto the step, still holding the tiny light, barely breathing.

Suddenly the door flew open and incredible, warm light burst out of the

house, and on the step stood an old woman. She bent down to the old man,

and carefully gathered him into her arms and slowly, gently brought his frail

body into the house, closed the door, and still holding him, sat down in her

rocking chair by the blazing fireplace.

She could easily carry him because he was just barely there, just a bag of

bones. She held him in her arms, and slowly she began to rock.

She rocked, and rocked, and rocked---a long time she rocked, holding him,

humming softly to herself, rocking in her chair.

Another endless time passing, as the old woman held the old man and

rocked him; as she did so, something strange and wonderful started to

happen. The old man started to look different as the old woman rocked;

slowly his hair became more abundant, and his skin less loose; and still she

rocked. The grayness of his skin began to disappear, and color started to

appear, and on she rocked; his body became more and more finely

muscled,and his hair started to turn golden, and as she rocked on, he became

younger and younger, soon he was a young man in her arms, and she

continued to rock him; after a time, the old woman paused, and suddenly,

reaching to the young man's head, she quickly pulled out one golden hair and

threw it onto the stone floor, where it landed, with a ringing sound of

"ping...!"

She continued to rock the young man, and he became younger and younger

until his was a little boy with a rosy face and golden curls and again she

stopped, and again she reached and pulled out one single golden hair and

threw it to the ground where it landed with a "ping...!"

She never stopped holding him and rocking him, until one last time she

pulled out a third golden hair and it too landed on the stone floor with the

sound of "ping..!"

Then, suddenly, the beautiful golden baby boy jumped up out of her lap

with a joyful laugh, and running to the door, threw it open, and ran out into

the open sky......

 

That's the story as I remember it. I can't say exactly why I was reminded of

it,

or if it's a story for you, but there it is.

 

with love to you

Nitya

 

 

 

 

 

 

, "Latha Nanda" <lathananda>

wrote:

> It all started with a question :- Why is this happening to me ?

>

> I look at the people who look serene . How do you do it ?

>

> They said :- Keep doing this sadhana constantly ... you too will come

> to love God as much as we do. That will give you the peace that you

> seek.

>

> I start and keep doing ... after a while I can fake it no longer. I

> cannot visualize a loving mother or all-knowing father taking care

> of me.

>

> So I ask , you are feeling the love. Why cant I ?

>

> My question is now : - Why is this not happening to me ?

>

> They said :- Keep at the Sadhana ...

>

> I promise :- I WILL keep at it, and polish it and refine it and ....KEEP AT

IT.

>

> A calm came over me with the resolution to keep at the sadhana.

>

> Love will come .... when it has to.

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Dear Nitya,

 

Yes, I agree with you . When we are pushed to a point when we are dry

and have no inspiration - we come to a crossroad. To continue or not?

Conventional wisdom doesnt help here and the mind is too drained.

 

At this point, just need to snuggle into our mom's lap and say "i

surrender" and let go. And .... suddenly we are filled with a renewed

burst of energy.

 

I am interpreting the story as - the old man represents the tired

sadhak and the old lady as God/Guru. When he surrenders to her, she

gathers him and rocks him and removes three hairs (blocks to his

growth) and turns him into a young child (renewed burst of energy to

restart sadhana).

 

Is that how you are looking at it too or am I way outta line here? Or

was that story meant to be a koan of sorts ?

 

Love

Latha

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

, "nitya_ma" <nitya_ma> wrote:

> Dear Latha,

> Well, I know perseverence pays off, and patience.

> But we can dry up and out so easily when we try so hard, when

> our nose gets skinned from being too close to that grindstone,

> when our sincerity and integrity pushes us into the realm of Too

Much

> and we lose heart. Even though wandering in the desert is usually

> a part of our spiritual quest, and that we may need to wander there

quite a

> long time.

> Here is a story I heard a long time ago, and I just thought of:

>

> It's called The Three Golden Hairs

>

> There once was an old, old, old man. He was so very old that most

of his

> teeth were missing, and his skin hung in many folds from his

skeletal body.

> Only a few hairs remained on his head, and his eyes were dimmed and

milky.

> His body was weak, and trembled. He walked unsteadily in the

darkest of

> nights--that kind of moonless dark where you can barely see in

front of your

> face.

> The old man carried a lantern, with a light inside. As he

stumbled along on

> the rocky, uneven ground, his light sputtered and grew lower, and

he grew

> weaker, but still he kept on; as he moved along the ground, he

became so

> weak, that he stumbled, and fell, but still holding on to his tiny

light, he

> continued on his way, now crawling on the ground, feeling the way

with his

> one hand, and on his knees.

> On and on he went like this, slowly, and painfully, and the

light got dimmer

> and dimmer and dimmer, and the night was very cold as well as very

dark, but

> still he kept on, and on and on, moving along on the ground,

slowly, slowly.

> And the light got so dim, it was barely there, just a tiny, tiny

blue flame.

> The old man was gasping and wheezing, nearly in despair, but he did

not

> stop and he did not put down the lantern.

> After a very, very long time, endless time, in the distance the

old man saw

> another light, far away, and he continued to crawl slowly and

painfully toward

> that light, closer and closer. As he approached, the light gave

shape

> to the surroundings, and one could barely discern it was light

coming from a

> window. After a long while, the old man came to the doorstep, and

collapsed,

> onto the step, still holding the tiny light, barely breathing.

> Suddenly the door flew open and incredible, warm light burst out

of the

> house, and on the step stood an old woman. She bent down to the

old man,

> and carefully gathered him into her arms and slowly, gently brought

his frail

> body into the house, closed the door, and still holding him, sat

down in her

> rocking chair by the blazing fireplace.

> She could easily carry him because he was just barely there,

just a bag of

> bones. She held him in her arms, and slowly she began to rock.

> She rocked, and rocked, and rocked---a long time she rocked,

holding him,

> humming softly to herself, rocking in her chair.

> Another endless time passing, as the old woman held the old man

and

> rocked him; as she did so, something strange and wonderful started

to

> happen. The old man started to look different as the old woman

rocked;

> slowly his hair became more abundant, and his skin less loose; and

still she

> rocked. The grayness of his skin began to disappear, and color

started to

> appear, and on she rocked; his body became more and more finely

> muscled,and his hair started to turn golden, and as she rocked on,

he became

> younger and younger, soon he was a young man in her arms, and she

> continued to rock him; after a time, the old woman paused, and

suddenly,

> reaching to the young man's head, she quickly pulled out one golden

hair and

> threw it onto the stone floor, where it landed, with a ringing

sound of "ping...!"

> She continued to rock the young man, and he became younger and

younger

> until his was a little boy with a rosy face and golden curls and

again she

> stopped, and again she reached and pulled out one single golden

hair and

> threw it to the ground where it landed with a "ping...!"

> She never stopped holding him and rocking him, until one last

time she

> pulled out a third golden hair and it too landed on the stone floor

with the

> sound of "ping..!"

> Then, suddenly, the beautiful golden baby boy jumped up out of

her lap

> with a joyful laugh, and running to the door, threw it open, and

ran out into

> the open sky......

>

> That's the story as I remember it. I can't say exactly why I was

reminded of it,

> or if it's a story for you, but there it is.

>

> with love to you

> Nitya

, "Latha Nanda" <lathananda>

> wrote:

> > It all started with a question :- Why is this happening to me ?

> >

> > I look at the people who look serene . How do you do it ?

> >

> > They said :- Keep doing this sadhana constantly ... you too will

come

> > to love God as much as we do. That will give you the peace that

you

> > seek.

> >

> > I start and keep doing ... after a while I can fake it no longer.

I

> > cannot visualize a loving mother or all-knowing father taking

care

> > of me.

> >

> > So I ask , you are feeling the love. Why cant I ?

> >

> > My question is now : - Why is this not happening to me ?

> >

> > They said :- Keep at the Sadhana ...

> >

> > I promise :- I WILL keep at it, and polish it and refine it

and ....KEEP AT IT.

> >

> > A calm came over me with the resolution to keep at the sadhana.

> >

> > Love will come .... when it has to.

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Latha:

 

This is just where we are all at, and we are all trying to learn to

love God in that passionate bhakti way, but obviously this cannot be

forced. Japa and Meditation are great, but the long dark night of

the soul, the period when you put in the work and do not see the

results as you wish to, is a challenge and can last many years.

 

In my work with Neem Karoli Baba I learned about Hanuman, and how

seva, selfless service is a strong component of God Love. I am

humbly offering the suggestion that going to an old age home every

sunday and singing to the folks who live there can be as heart

opening as any activity. Or going to a soup kitchen regularly to

cook for the homeless. Or collecting blankets to hand out to people

sleeping in the streets. Check out "How can I help" by Ram Dass.

 

Karunamayi taught me the power of inner work, meditation, and it is

hard to sit for me, but I try, and I keep at it, and until I can sit

for 4-8 hours like SSS, I chant japa.

 

And of course, among the other teachings, Shree Maa opened the

practice of Kirtan for me, which is one of the very great heart

opening practices known on the earth. After 3 hours of heartfelt

singing of Gods names, you are very very deep...well, you'll

see...please remember you go as far as your teacher has gone, so you

need to sing with a leader who can strongly lead you to the deeper

states, I know around the Devi Mandir there's lots of singers like

that.

 

Another way I know to open God Love in the heart is the association of

Holy People, your soul has a Sadguru out there (Swamiji says there is

only one Sadguru, Shiva, but then, is Shree Maa not Shiva?), and when

you make eye contact with your Sadguru, the love is instantly

awakened. You love this guru and you discover that this Guru is

Shiva, therefore you have God Love. (not always instantly awakened,

but greatly expidited by the love the guru feels for you.

 

So "How to Love God" Shubal does not really know anything, but he does love God, and

Seva, Inner Work (puja, meditation and Chandi), Kirtan and Darshan

seem to be his way, the heart flies.

 

Love

 

Shubal

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Dear Latha,

Well, I cannot say yes to either of the two choices you offered me,

but I can say that you inspired me somehow to remember that

story, I can't exactly say why. Since it was an intuition, God knows.

I believe any story is only valuable if it says something to you,

so if it does, great, if it doesn't, that doesn't matter.

It's an old story. I heard it a long time ago, and of course didn't write it.

I think as an old story it can have meaning for many people,

otherwise we wouldn't keep passing it down.

It may or may not be your story right now.

I sure like what you said about it.

 

Iove

Nitya

 

 

 

, "Latha Nanda" <lathananda>

wrote:

> Dear Nitya,

>

> Yes, I agree with you . When we are pushed to a point when we are dry

> and have no inspiration - we come to a crossroad. To continue or not?

> Conventional wisdom doesnt help here and the mind is too drained.

>

> At this point, just need to snuggle into our mom's lap and say "i

> surrender" and let go. And .... suddenly we are filled with a renewed

> burst of energy.

>

> I am interpreting the story as - the old man represents the tired

> sadhak and the old lady as God/Guru. When he surrenders to her, she

> gathers him and rocks him and removes three hairs (blocks to his

> growth) and turns him into a young child (renewed burst of energy to

> restart sadhana).

>

> Is that how you are looking at it too or am I way outta line here? Or

> was that story meant to be a koan of sorts ?

>

> Love

> Latha

>

, "nitya_ma" <nitya_ma> wrote:

> > Dear Latha,

> > Well, I know perseverence pays off, and patience.

> > But we can dry up and out so easily when we try so hard, when

> > our nose gets skinned from being too close to that grindstone,

> > when our sincerity and integrity pushes us into the realm of Too

> Much

> > and we lose heart. Even though wandering in the desert is usually

> > a part of our spiritual quest, and that we may need to wander there

> quite a

> > long time.

> > Here is a story I heard a long time ago, and I just thought of:

> >

> > It's called The Three Golden Hairs

> >

> > There once was an old, old, old man. He was so very old that most

> of his

> > teeth were missing, and his skin hung in many folds from his

> skeletal body.

> > Only a few hairs remained on his head, and his eyes were dimmed and

> milky.

> > His body was weak, and trembled. He walked unsteadily in the

> darkest of

> > nights--that kind of moonless dark where you can barely see in

> front of your

> > face.

> > The old man carried a lantern, with a light inside. As he

> stumbled along on

> > the rocky, uneven ground, his light sputtered and grew lower, and

> he grew

> > weaker, but still he kept on; as he moved along the ground, he

> became so

> > weak, that he stumbled, and fell, but still holding on to his tiny

> light, he

> > continued on his way, now crawling on the ground, feeling the way

> with his

> > one hand, and on his knees.

> > On and on he went like this, slowly, and painfully, and the

> light got dimmer

> > and dimmer and dimmer, and the night was very cold as well as very

> dark, but

> > still he kept on, and on and on, moving along on the ground,

> slowly, slowly.

> > And the light got so dim, it was barely there, just a tiny, tiny

> blue flame.

> > The old man was gasping and wheezing, nearly in despair, but he did

> not

> > stop and he did not put down the lantern.

> > After a very, very long time, endless time, in the distance the

> old man saw

> > another light, far away, and he continued to crawl slowly and

> painfully toward

> > that light, closer and closer. As he approached, the light gave

> shape

> > to the surroundings, and one could barely discern it was light

> coming from a

> > window. After a long while, the old man came to the doorstep, and

> collapsed,

> > onto the step, still holding the tiny light, barely breathing.

> > Suddenly the door flew open and incredible, warm light burst out

> of the

> > house, and on the step stood an old woman. She bent down to the

> old man,

> > and carefully gathered him into her arms and slowly, gently brought

> his frail

> > body into the house, closed the door, and still holding him, sat

> down in her

> > rocking chair by the blazing fireplace.

> > She could easily carry him because he was just barely there,

> just a bag of

> > bones. She held him in her arms, and slowly she began to rock.

> > She rocked, and rocked, and rocked---a long time she rocked,

> holding him,

> > humming softly to herself, rocking in her chair.

> > Another endless time passing, as the old woman held the old man

> and

> > rocked him; as she did so, something strange and wonderful started

> to

> > happen. The old man started to look different as the old woman

> rocked;

> > slowly his hair became more abundant, and his skin less loose; and

> still she

> > rocked. The grayness of his skin began to disappear, and color

> started to

> > appear, and on she rocked; his body became more and more finely

> > muscled,and his hair started to turn golden, and as she rocked on,

> he became

> > younger and younger, soon he was a young man in her arms, and she

> > continued to rock him; after a time, the old woman paused, and

> suddenly,

> > reaching to the young man's head, she quickly pulled out one golden

> hair and

> > threw it onto the stone floor, where it landed, with a ringing

> sound of "ping...!"

> > She continued to rock the young man, and he became younger and

> younger

> > until his was a little boy with a rosy face and golden curls and

> again she

> > stopped, and again she reached and pulled out one single golden

> hair and

> > threw it to the ground where it landed with a "ping...!"

> > She never stopped holding him and rocking him, until one last

> time she

> > pulled out a third golden hair and it too landed on the stone floor

> with the

> > sound of "ping..!"

> > Then, suddenly, the beautiful golden baby boy jumped up out of

> her lap

> > with a joyful laugh, and running to the door, threw it open, and

> ran out into

> > the open sky......

> >

> > That's the story as I remember it. I can't say exactly why I was

> reminded of it,

> > or if it's a story for you, but there it is.

> >

> > with love to you

> > Nitya

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> > , "Latha Nanda" <lathananda>

> > wrote:

> > > It all started with a question :- Why is this happening to me ?

> > >

> > > I look at the people who look serene . How do you do it ?

> > >

> > > They said :- Keep doing this sadhana constantly ... you too will

> come

> > > to love God as much as we do. That will give you the peace that

> you

> > > seek.

> > >

> > > I start and keep doing ... after a while I can fake it no longer.

> I

> > > cannot visualize a loving mother or all-knowing father taking

> care

> > > of me.

> > >

> > > So I ask , you are feeling the love. Why cant I ?

> > >

> > > My question is now : - Why is this not happening to me ?

> > >

> > > They said :- Keep at the Sadhana ...

> > >

> > > I promise :- I WILL keep at it, and polish it and refine it

> and ....KEEP AT IT.

> > >

> > > A calm came over me with the resolution to keep at the sadhana.

> > >

> > > Love will come .... when it has to.

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Forgive me if I am not consistant with the chat room these days. I am

signing on and reading and then signing off. I hope I haven't missed

much.

I understand the feeling of dryness and like Shubal said it is a dark

night of the soul and it's a wonderful phase. We can look at it like

the dreadful dark night but it's a clue to the mystic that we are

going deeper. It's like drilling down to the core of the earth,

sometimes you hit granite and it feels like your getting nowhere. At

that point, like nature, I take a small break. I keep doing sadhana,

but sometimes in order to get the drill to penetrate, you need more

force and for me, I gain energy by taking a small break and then

going for it again. Sometimes when I resist taking break, I throw

temper tantrums. That 'dry' feeling can be made 'wet' by a tantrum.

If we can get past our 'adultness of proper acting' and get back to

the child, we can throw a temper tantrum to Ma to help us drill

deeper, to get past the granite. Then we have to be open to what She

gives us otherwise our tantrums are in vain. Tantrums are mega

emotions thru conscious thought or prayer, they are loaded with force

and I never regret having one. I don't think Ramakrishna ever

regretted having one either.

Also, if you want to take a more analytical approach to the Dark

Night, ask yourself what is making you dry. It could be certain

beleifs are no longer fitting to your path, meaning at a certain

point, you develope your own understanding of God thru your own

experience. You create your own map for what works for you. We have

to have courage at this point to take a path that seems more wild than

the previous one that has been walked. The mystic path is adventurous

in the inner journey. IMO Each Guru who is effective walked a large

part of the path on their own, following Guru in the way Guru

beckoned them. Not all Guru's had Guru's in physical form to lead

them, so they walked a wild path, not the beaten one. This is a

clue to knowing that sometimes, we have to make our own way on 'part'

of the journey and if we blindly follow someone elses ideal and .01%

may not work for us, we need to discard that .01% and find what does

work for

us in it's replacement. There are no mistakes. Often times dryness

occurs when we are doing something that is not fitting to our nature

and that in itself will impeed the flow of shakti to penetrate the

granite. If there is another tool in the drill that is impeeding the

drill itself, it cannot be effective. Walking the path means knowing

yourSelf. The reality is that we know ourselves much better than

anyone, so then when we follow someone, that's easy, the scarey part

is to recognize 'our' knowledge and to trust that and follow it,

intuitively, not neccessarily with the analytical mind. My path is

not my Guru's path. It could never be because I am a different

vantage point in the Universe and so are you. Guru's beckon, but

sometimes on the journey, we have to recognize what is working and

what isn't.

For some, doing puja is not going to work for them and just sitting

will. For some sitting may not work when puja will. Sitting works

better for me than puja and thank God my Guru didn't prescribe puja

for me to learn, he knew it was not for me. But, if he had, I'd

still follow my north and do what I know works for me from my own

wild journey, and that is to sit, breathe and be simple.

The dark night is a great place, like the desert, full of life if we have the sight to see it.

My 2cents worth:) Jai maa! nitya_ma <nitya_ma > wrote:

Dear Latha,Well, I cannot say yes to either of the two choices you

offered me,but I can say that you inspired me somehow to remember

thatstory, I can't exactly say why. Since it was an intuition, God

knows.I believe any story is only valuable if it says something to

you,so if it does, great, if it doesn't, that doesn't matter.It's an

old story. I heard it a long time ago, and of course didn't write

it.I think as an old story it can have meaning for many

people,otherwise we wouldn't keep passing it down.It may or may not

be your story right now.I sure like what you said about

it.IoveNitya, "Latha Nanda"

<lathananda> wrote:> Dear Nitya,> > Yes, I agree with you . When

we are pushed to a point when we are dry > and have no

inspiration - we come to a crossroad. To continue or not?>

Conventional wisdom doesnt help here and the mind is too drained.> >

At this point, just need to snuggle into our mom's lap and say "i >

surrender" and let go. And .... suddenly we are filled with a renewed

> burst of energy.> > I am interpreting the story as - the old man

represents the tired > sadhak and the old lady as God/Guru. When he

surrenders to her, she > gathers him and rocks him and removes three

hairs (blocks to his > growth) and turns him into a young child

(renewed burst of energy to > restart sadhana).> > Is that how you

are looking at it too or am I way outta line here? Or > was that

story meant to be a koan of sorts ?> > Love> Latha> > > > > > > > ---

In , "nitya_ma" <nitya_ma> wrote:> >

Dear Latha,> > Well, I know perseverence pays off, and patience.> >

But we can dry up and out so easily when we try so hard, when> > our

nose gets skinned from being too close to that grindstone,> > when

our sincerity and integrity pushes us into the realm of Too > Much> >

and we lose heart. Even though wandering in the desert is usually> >

a part of our spiritual quest, and that we may need to wander there >

quite a > > long time.> > Here is a story I heard a long time ago, and

I just thought of:> > > > It's called The Three Golden Hairs> > > >

There once was an old, old, old man. He was so very old that most >

of his > > teeth were missing, and his skin hung in many folds from

his > skeletal body. > > Only a few hairs remained on his head, and

his eyes were dimmed and >

milky.> > His body was weak, and trembled. He walked unsteadily in

the > darkest of > > nights--that kind of moonless dark where you can

barely see in > front of your > > face.> > The old man carried a

lantern, with a light inside. As he > stumbled along on > > the

rocky, uneven ground, his light sputtered and grew lower, and > he

grew > > weaker, but still he kept on; as he moved along the ground,

he > became so > > weak, that he stumbled, and fell, but still holding

on to his tiny > light, he > > continued on his way, now crawling on

the ground, feeling the way > with his > > one hand, and on his

knees.> > On and on he went like this, slowly, and painfully, and

the > light got dimmer > > and dimmer and dimmer, and the night was

very cold as well as very >

dark, but > > still he kept on, and on and on, moving along on the

ground, > slowly, slowly.> > And the light got so dim, it was barely

there, just a tiny, tiny > blue flame.> > The old man was gasping and

wheezing, nearly in despair, but he did > not > > stop and he did not

put down the lantern.> > After a very, very long time, endless

time, in the distance the > old man saw > > another light, far away,

and he continued to crawl slowly and > painfully toward > > that

light, closer and closer. As he approached, the light gave > shape >

> to the surroundings, and one could barely discern it was light >

coming from a > > window. After a long while, the old man came to

the doorstep, and > collapsed,> > onto the step, still holding the

tiny light, barely breathing.> >

Suddenly the door flew open and incredible, warm light burst out > of

the > > house, and on the step stood an old woman. She bent down to

the > old man, > > and carefully gathered him into her arms and

slowly, gently brought > his frail > > body into the house, closed

the door, and still holding him, sat > down in her > > rocking chair

by the blazing fireplace.> > She could easily carry him because

he was just barely there, > just a bag of > > bones. She held him in

her arms, and slowly she began to rock.> > She rocked, and rocked, and

rocked---a long time she rocked, > holding him,> > humming softly to

herself, rocking in her chair.> > Another endless time passing, as

the old woman held the old man > and > > rocked him; as she did so,

something strange and wonderful started

> to > > happen. The old man started to look different as the old

woman > rocked; > > slowly his hair became more abundant, and his

skin less loose; and > still she > > rocked. The grayness of his

skin began to disappear, and color > started to > > appear, and on

she rocked; his body became more and more finely > > muscled,and his

hair started to turn golden, and as she rocked on, > he became > >

younger and younger, soon he was a young man in her arms, and she > >

continued to rock him; after a time, the old woman paused, and >

suddenly, > > reaching to the young man's head, she quickly pulled

out one golden > hair and > > threw it onto the stone floor, where it

landed, with a ringing > sound of "ping...!"> > She continued to rock

the young man, and he became younger and > younger >

> until his was a little boy with a rosy face and golden curls and >

again she > > stopped, and again she reached and pulled out one

single golden > hair and > > threw it to the ground where it landed

with a "ping...!"> > She never stopped holding him and rocking

him, until one last > time she> > pulled out a third golden hair and

it too landed on the stone floor > with the > > sound of "ping..!"> >

Then, suddenly, the beautiful golden baby boy jumped up out of >

her lap> > with a joyful laugh, and running to the door, threw it

open, and > ran out into> > the open sky......> > > > That's the

story as I remember it. I can't say exactly why I was > reminded of

it,> > or if it's a story for you, but there it is.> > > > with love

to

you> > Nitya> > > > > > > > > > > > > > --- In

, "Latha Nanda" <lathananda> > >

wrote:> > > It all started with a question :- Why is this happening

to me ?> > > > > > I look at the people who look serene . How do you

do it ?> > > > > > They said :- Keep doing this sadhana constantly

.... you too will > come > > > to love God as much as we do. That will

give you the peace that > you > > > seek.> > > > > > I start and keep

doing ... after a while I can fake it no longer. > I > > > cannot

visualize a loving mother or all-knowing father taking > care > > >

of me.> > > > > > So I ask , you are feeling the love. Why cant I ?> >

> > >

> My question is now : - Why is this not happening to me ?> > > > > >

They said :- Keep at the Sadhana ...> > > > > > I promise :- I WILL

keep at it, and polish it and refine it > and ....KEEP AT IT. > > > >

> > A calm came over me with the resolution to keep at the sadhana.> >

> > > > Love will come .... when it has to.To from this

group, send an email to:Your

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Oh, Kelly. Once again I am amazed at your wisdom and the skillful way

you articulate it. Your description of Gurus who went out on their

own or had no physical Guru of their own remind me so much of Shree

Maa and Swamiji and Ramakrishna and even myself. My first teacher

had a motto "Wise is the man who seeks to improve his knowledge of

himself!". She even had a little owl logo to go with it! I feel

Shree Maa and Swamiji with me all the time, but I am on my own now.

I don't know how long this will last. But for now I am living in the

mountains and loving the solitude and also the joy of a small artistic

and spiritual community. Sadhana comes in many forms. God

consciousness and union is my daily goal.

My love to you and everyone,

Ardis

Kelly Leeper <blissnout >

Fri, 12 Dec 2003 12:28:46 -0800 (PST)

Re: Re: Love will come .... when it has to.

Latha, Namaste:)

Forgive me if I am not consistant with the chat room these days. I am

signing on and reading and then signing off. I hope I haven't missed

much.

I understand the feeling of dryness and like Shubal said it is a dark

night of the soul and it's a wonderful phase. We can look at it like

the dreadful dark night but it's a clue to the mystic that we are

going deeper. It's like drilling down to the core of the earth,

sometimes you hit granite and it feels like your getting nowhere. At

that point, like nature, I take a small break. I keep doing sadhana,

but sometimes in order to get the drill to penetrate, you need more

force and for me, I gain energy by taking a small break and then

going for it again. Sometimes when I resist taking break, I throw

temper tantrums. That 'dry' feeling can be made 'wet' by a tantrum.

If we can get past our 'adultness of proper acting' and get back to

the child, we can throw a temper tantrum to Ma to help us drill

deeper, to get past the granite. Then we have to be open to what She

gives us otherwise our tantrums are in vain. Tantrums are mega

emotions thru conscious thought or prayer, they are loaded with force

and I never regret having one. I don't think Ramakrishna ever

regretted having one either.

Also, if you want to take a more analytical approach to the Dark

Night, ask yourself what is making you dry. It could be certain

beleifs are no longer fitting to your path, meaning at a certain

point, you develope your own understanding of God thru your own

experience. You create your own map for what works for you. We have

to have courage at this point to take a path that seems more wild than

the previous one that has been walked. The mystic path is adventurous

in the inner journey. IMO Each Guru who is effective walked a large

part of the path on their own, following Guru in the way Guru

beckoned them. Not all Guru's had Guru's in physical form to lead

them, so they walked a wild path, not the beaten one. This is a

clue to knowing that sometimes, we have to make our own way on 'part'

of the journey and if we blindly follow someone elses ideal and .01%

may not work for us, we need to discard that .01% and find what does

work for us in it's replacement. There are no mistakes. Often times

dryness occurs when we are doing something that is not fitting to our

nature and that in itself will impeed the flow of shakti to penetrate

the granite. If there is another tool in the drill that is impeeding

the drill itself, it cannot be effective. Walking the path means

knowing yourSelf. The reality is that we know ourselves much better

than anyone, so then when we follow someone, that's easy, the scarey

part is to recognize 'our' knowledge and to trust that and follow it,

intuitively, not neccessarily with the analytical mind. My path is

not my Guru's path. It could never be because I am a different

vantage point in the Universe and so are you. Guru's beckon, but

sometimes on the journey, we have to recognize what is working and

what isn't.

For some, doing puja is not going to work for them and just sitting

will. For some sitting may not work when puja will. Sitting works

better for me than puja and thank God my Guru didn't prescribe puja

for me to learn, he knew it was not for me. But, if he had, I'd

still follow my north and do what I know works for me from my own

wild journey, and that is to sit, breathe and be simple.

The dark night is a great place, like the desert, full of life if we have the sight to see it.

My 2cents worth:) Jai maa!

nitya_ma <nitya_ma > wrote:

Dear Latha,

Well, I cannot say yes to either of the two choices you offered me,

but I can say that you inspired me somehow to remember that

story, I can't exactly say why. Since it was an intuition, God knows.

I believe any story is only valuable if it says something to you,

so if it does, great, if it doesn't, that doesn't matter.

It's an old story. I heard it a long time ago, and of course didn't write it.

I think as an old story it can have meaning for many people,

otherwise we wouldn't keep passing it down.

It may or may not be your story right now.

I sure like what you said about it.

Iove

Nitya

, "Latha Nanda" <lathananda>

wrote:

> Dear Nitya,

>

> Yes, I agree with you . When we are pushed to a point when we are dry

> and have no inspiration - we come to a crossroad. To continue or not?

> Conventional wisdom doesnt help here and the mind is too drained.

>

> At this point, just need to snuggle into our mom's lap and say "i

> surrender" and let go. And .... suddenly we are filled with a renewed

> burst of energy.

>

> I am interpreting the story as - the old man represents the tired

> sadhak and the old lady as God/Guru. When he surrenders to her, she

> gathers him and rocks him and removes three hairs (blocks to his

> growth) and turns him into a young child (renewed burst of energy to

> restart sadhana).

>

> Is that how you are looking at it too or am I way outta line here? Or

> was that story meant to be a koan of sorts ?

>

> Love

> Latha

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

> , "nitya_ma" <nitya_ma> wrote:

> > Dear Latha,

> > Well, I know perseverence pays off, and patience.

> > But we can dry up and out so easily when we try so hard, when

> > our nose gets skinned from being too close to that grindstone,

> > when our sincerity and integrity pushes us into the realm of Too

> Much

> > and we lose heart. Even though wandering in the desert is usually

> > a part of our spiritual quest, and that we may need to wander there

> quite a

> > long time.

> > Here is a story I heard a long time ago, and I just thought of:

> >

> > It's called The Three Golden Hairs

> >

> > There once was an old, old, old man. He was so very old that most

> of his

> > teeth were missing, and his skin hung in many folds from his

> skeletal body.

> > Only a few hairs remained on his head, and his eyes were dimmed and

> milky.

> > His body was weak, and trembled. He walked unsteadily in the

> darkest of

> > nights--that kind of moonless dark where you can barely see in

> front of your

> > face.

> > The old man carried a lantern, with a light inside. As he

> stumbled along on

> > the rocky, uneven ground, his light sputtered and grew lower, and

> he grew

> > weaker, but still he kept on; as he moved along the ground, he

> became so

> > weak, that he stumbled, and fell, but still holding on to his tiny

> light, he

> > continued on his way, now crawling on the ground, feeling the way

> with his

> > one hand, and on his knees.

> > On and on he went like this, slowly, and painfully, and the

> light got dimmer

> > and dimmer and dimmer, and the night was very cold as well as very

> dark, but

> > still he kept on, and on and on, moving along on the ground,

> slowly, slowly.

> > And the light got so dim, it was barely there, just a tiny, tiny

> blue flame.

> > The old man was gasping and wheezing, nearly in despair, but he did

> not

> > stop and he did not put down the lantern.

> > After a very, very long time, endless time, in the distance the

> old man saw

> > another light, far away, and he continued to crawl slowly and

> painfully toward

> > that light, closer and closer. As he approached, the light gave

> shape

> > to the surroundings, and one could barely discern it was light

> coming from a

> > window. After a long while, the old man came to the doorstep, and

> collapsed,

> > onto the step, still holding the tiny light, barely breathing.

> > Suddenly the door flew open and incredible, warm light burst out

> of the

> > house, and on the step stood an old woman. She bent down to the

> old man,

> > and carefully gathered him into her arms and slowly, gently brought

> his frail

> > body into the house, closed the door, and still holding him, sat

> down in her

> > rocking chair by the blazing fireplace.

> > She could easily carry him because he was just barely there,

> just a bag of

> > bones. She held him in her arms, and slowly she began to rock.

> > She rocked, and rocked, and rocked---a long time she rocked,

> holding him,

> > humming softly to herself, rocking in her chair.

> > Another endless time passing, as the old woman held the old man

> and

> > rocked him; as she did so, something strange and wonderful started

> to

> > happen. The old man started to look different as the old woman

> rocked;

> > slowly his hair became more abundant, and his skin less loose; and

> still she

> > rocked. The grayness of his skin began to disappear, and color

> started to

> > appear, and on she rocked; his body became more and more finely

> > muscled,and his hair started to turn golden, and as she rocked on,

> he became

> > younger and younger, soon he was a young man in her arms, and she

> > continued to rock him; after a time, the old woman paused, and

> suddenly,

> > reaching to the young man's head, she quickly pulled out one golden

> hair and

> > threw it onto the stone floor, where it landed, with a ringing

> sound of "ping...!"

> > She continued to rock the young man, and he became younger and

> younger

> > until his was a little boy with a rosy face and golden curls and

> again she

> > stopped, and again she reached and pulled out one single golden

> hair and

> > threw it to the ground where it landed with a "ping...!"

> > She never stopped holding him and rocking him, until one last

> time she

> > pulled out a third golden hair and it too landed on the stone floor

> with the

> > sound of "ping..!"

> > Then, suddenly, the beautiful golden baby boy jumped up out

of

> her lap

> > with a joyful laugh, and running to the door, threw it open, and

> ran out into

> > the open sky......

> >

> > That's the story as I remember it. I can't say exactly why I was

> reminded of it,

> > or if it's a story for you, but there it is.

> >

> > with love to you

> > Nitya

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> > , "Latha Nanda" <lathananda>

> > wrote:

> > > It all started with a question :- Why is this happening to me ?

> > >

> > > I look at the people who look serene . How do you do it ?

> > >

> > > They said :- Keep doing this sadhana constantly ... you too will

> come

> > > to love God as much as we do. That will give you the peace that

> you

> > > seek.

> > >

> > > I start and keep doing ... after a while I can fake it no longer.

> I

> > > cannot visualize a loving mother or all-knowing father taking

> care

> > > of me.

> > >

> > > So I ask , you are feeling the love. Why cant I ?

> > >

> > > My question is now : - Why is this not happening to me ?

> > >

> > > They said :- Keep at the Sadhana ...

> > >

> > > I promise :- I WILL keep at it, and polish it and refine it

> and ....KEEP AT IT.

> > >

> > > A calm came over me with the resolution to keep at the sadhana.

> > >

> > > Love will come .... when it has to.

 

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Dear Kelly,

 

Glad that you are signing on and responding from time to time :) I am glad for

this forum and glad for people's thoughts because it helps me articulate and

define my own.

 

I think there are two different points here

1) How do I feel that love that some advanced souls feel for automatically for

God (Answer:Keep doing Sadhana)

and

2) How do I keep the inspiration alive for doing the Sadhana. (Your suggestions

help here)

 

My original post was addressing the first point.

 

As for the second point I can take either one of Maa's or Swamiji's suggestions

depending on the current frame of mind.

 

If I am feeling rational , then I go by Swamiji's suggestion " I cannot feel

love , but I WILL keep my knees down and keep going" . This is sheer

determination.

 

If I am feeling emotional, then I go by Maa's suggestion "I just surrender to

You. How do you want me to continue".

 

So I think I have a plan of attack for continuing my Sadhana depending on my

frame of mind.

 

As for the first point , there have been rare moments in my life when I felt at

complete peace with everything. Troubles ? Bring 'em on. I wont feel a thing .

Just total and cheerful acceptance.

 

Is this love ? Is love even better than what I felt? Wow. Then I want THAT!

 

So I have had some small, tiny, inkling , tantalising demos of what some great

souls in Love might be feeling continuously . And this feeling happens when I

unconditionally accept the situation without trying to control it . This is my

real Sadhana and puja,meditation etc are only methods to keep reminding me of

that state of being open. Advisable to stick with whatever gets me in that

state and what methods drew me there in the first place, simply because of the

power of repetition.

 

I think the dark night of the soul happens to advanced practitioners after years

of sadhana . I am flattered to think that my little attempts at mourning the

lack of love could be compared to that :))

 

 

Best wishes,

Latha

 

 

 

 

, Kelly Leeper <blissnout>

wrote:

> Latha, Namaste:)

>

> Forgive me if I am not consistant with the chat room these days. I

am signing on and reading and then signing off. I hope I haven't

missed much.

>

> I understand the feeling of dryness and like Shubal said it is a

dark night of the soul and it's a wonderful phase. We can look at it

like the dreadful dark night but it's a clue to the mystic that we

are going deeper. It's like drilling down to the core of the earth,

sometimes you hit granite and it feels like your getting nowhere. At

that point, like nature, I take a small break. I keep doing sadhana,

but sometimes in order to get the drill to penetrate, you need more

force and for me, I gain energy by taking a small break and then

going for it again. Sometimes when I resist taking break, I throw

temper tantrums. That 'dry' feeling can be made 'wet' by a tantrum.

If we can get past our 'adultness of proper acting' and get back to

the child, we can throw a temper tantrum to Ma to help us drill

deeper, to get past the granite. Then we have to be open to what She

gives us otherwise our tantrums are in vain. Tantrums are mega

emotions thru conscious thought or prayer, they are

> loaded with force and I never regret having one. I don't think

Ramakrishna ever regretted having one either.

>

> Also, if you want to take a more analytical approach to the Dark

Night, ask yourself what is making you dry. It could be certain

beleifs are no longer fitting to your path, meaning at a certain

point, you develope your own understanding of God thru your own

experience. You create your own map for what works for you. We have

to have courage at this point to take a path that seems more wild

than the previous one that has been walked. The mystic path is

adventurous in the inner journey. IMO Each Guru who is effective

walked a large part of the path on their own, following Guru in the

way Guru beckoned them. Not all Guru's had Guru's in physical form

to lead them, so they walked a wild path, not the beaten one. This

is a clue to knowing that sometimes, we have to make our own way

on 'part' of the journey and if we blindly follow someone elses ideal

and .01% may not work for us, we need to discard that .01% and find

what does work for us in it's replacement. There are no

> mistakes. Often times dryness occurs when we are doing something

that is not fitting to our nature and that in itself will impeed the

flow of shakti to penetrate the granite. If there is another tool in

the drill that is impeeding the drill itself, it cannot be

effective. Walking the path means knowing yourSelf. The reality is

that we know ourselves much better than anyone, so then when we

follow someone, that's easy, the scarey part is to recognize 'our'

knowledge and to trust that and follow it, intuitively, not

neccessarily with the analytical mind. My path is not my Guru's

path. It could never be because I am a different vantage point in

the Universe and so are you. Guru's beckon, but sometimes on the

journey, we have to recognize what is working and what isn't.

>

> For some, doing puja is not going to work for them and just sitting

will. For some sitting may not work when puja will. Sitting works

better for me than puja and thank God my Guru didn't prescribe puja

for me to learn, he knew it was not for me. But, if he had, I'd

still follow my north and do what I know works for me from my own

wild journey, and that is to sit, breathe and be simple.

>

> The dark night is a great place, like the desert, full of life if

we have the sight to see it.

>

> My 2cents worth:) Jai maa!

> nitya_ma <nitya_ma> wrote:

> Dear Latha,

> Well, I cannot say yes to either of the two choices you offered me,

> but I can say that you inspired me somehow to remember that

> story, I can't exactly say why. Since it was an intuition, God

knows.

> I believe any story is only valuable if it says something to you,

> so if it does, great, if it doesn't, that doesn't matter.

> It's an old story. I heard it a long time ago, and of course

didn't write it.

> I think as an old story it can have meaning for many people,

> otherwise we wouldn't keep passing it down.

> It may or may not be your story right now.

> I sure like what you said about it.

>

> Iove

> Nitya

>

>

>

> , "Latha Nanda" <lathananda>

> wrote:

> > Dear Nitya,

> >

> > Yes, I agree with you . When we are pushed to a point when we are

dry

> > and have no inspiration - we come to a crossroad. To continue or

not?

> > Conventional wisdom doesnt help here and the mind is too drained.

> >

> > At this point, just need to snuggle into our mom's lap and say "i

> > surrender" and let go. And .... suddenly we are filled with a

renewed

> > burst of energy.

> >

> > I am interpreting the story as - the old man represents the tired

> > sadhak and the old lady as God/Guru. When he surrenders to her,

she

> > gathers him and rocks him and removes three hairs (blocks to his

> > growth) and turns him into a young child (renewed burst of energy

to

> > restart sadhana).

> >

> > Is that how you are looking at it too or am I way outta line

here? Or

> > was that story meant to be a koan of sorts ?

> >

> > Love

> > Latha

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> > , "nitya_ma" <nitya_ma>

wrote:

> > > Dear Latha,

> > > Well, I know perseverence pays off, and patience.

> > > But we can dry up and out so easily when we try so hard, when

> > > our nose gets skinned from being too close to that grindstone,

> > > when our sincerity and integrity pushes us into the realm of

Too

> > Much

> > > and we lose heart. Even though wandering in the desert is

usually

> > > a part of our spiritual quest, and that we may need to wander

there

> > quite a

> > > long time.

> > > Here is a story I heard a long time ago, and I just thought of:

> > >

> > > It's called The Three Golden Hairs

> > >

> > > There once was an old, old, old man. He was so very old that

most

> > of his

> > > teeth were missing, and his skin hung in many folds from his

> > skeletal body.

> > > Only a few hairs remained on his head, and his eyes were dimmed

and

> > milky.

> > > His body was weak, and trembled. He walked unsteadily in the

> > darkest of

> > > nights--that kind of moonless dark where you can barely see in

> > front of your

> > > face.

> > > The old man carried a lantern, with a light inside. As he

> > stumbled along on

> > > the rocky, uneven ground, his light sputtered and grew lower,

and

> > he grew

> > > weaker, but still he kept on; as he moved along the ground, he

> > became so

> > > weak, that he stumbled, and fell, but still holding on to his

tiny

> > light, he

> > > continued on his way, now crawling on the ground, feeling the

way

> > with his

> > > one hand, and on his knees.

> > > On and on he went like this, slowly, and painfully, and the

> > light got dimmer

> > > and dimmer and dimmer, and the night was very cold as well as

very

> > dark, but

> > > still he kept on, and on and on, moving along on the ground,

> > slowly, slowly.

> > > And the light got so dim, it was barely there, just a tiny,

tiny

> > blue flame.

> > > The old man was gasping and wheezing, nearly in despair, but he

did

> > not

> > > stop and he did not put down the lantern.

> > > After a very, very long time, endless time, in the distance

the

> > old man saw

> > > another light, far away, and he continued to crawl slowly and

> > painfully toward

> > > that light, closer and closer. As he approached, the light

gave

> > shape

> > > to the surroundings, and one could barely discern it was light

> > coming from a

> > > window. After a long while, the old man came to the doorstep,

and

> > collapsed,

> > > onto the step, still holding the tiny light, barely breathing.

> > > Suddenly the door flew open and incredible, warm light burst

out

> > of the

> > > house, and on the step stood an old woman. She bent down to

the

> > old man,

> > > and carefully gathered him into her arms and slowly, gently

brought

> > his frail

> > > body into the house, closed the door, and still holding him,

sat

> > down in her

> > > rocking chair by the blazing fireplace.

> > > She could easily carry him because he was just barely

there,

> > just a bag of

> > > bones. She held him in her arms, and slowly she began to rock.

> > > She rocked, and rocked, and rocked---a long time she rocked,

> > holding him,

> > > humming softly to herself, rocking in her chair.

> > > Another endless time passing, as the old woman held the old

man

> > and

> > > rocked him; as she did so, something strange and wonderful

started

> > to

> > > happen. The old man started to look different as the old woman

> > rocked;

> > > slowly his hair became more abundant, and his skin less loose;

and

> > still she

> > > rocked. The grayness of his skin began to disappear, and color

> > started to

> > > appear, and on she rocked; his body became more and more finely

> > > muscled,and his hair started to turn golden, and as she rocked

on,

> > he became

> > > younger and younger, soon he was a young man in her arms, and

she

> > > continued to rock him; after a time, the old woman paused, and

> > suddenly,

> > > reaching to the young man's head, she quickly pulled out one

golden

> > hair and

> > > threw it onto the stone floor, where it landed, with a ringing

> > sound of "ping...!"

> > > She continued to rock the young man, and he became younger and

> > younger

> > > until his was a little boy with a rosy face and golden curls

and

> > again she

> > > stopped, and again she reached and pulled out one single golden

> > hair and

> > > threw it to the ground where it landed with a "ping...!"

> > > She never stopped holding him and rocking him, until one

last

> > time she

> > > pulled out a third golden hair and it too landed on the stone

floor

> > with the

> > > sound of "ping..!"

> > > Then, suddenly, the beautiful golden baby boy jumped up

out of

> > her lap

> > > with a joyful laugh, and running to the door, threw it open,

and

> > ran out into

> > > the open sky......

> > >

> > > That's the story as I remember it. I can't say exactly why I

was

> > reminded of it,

> > > or if it's a story for you, but there it is.

> > >

> > > with love to you

> > > Nitya

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > > , "Latha Nanda"

<lathananda>

> > > wrote:

> > > > It all started with a question :- Why is this happening to

me ?

> > > >

> > > > I look at the people who look serene . How do you do it ?

> > > >

> > > > They said :- Keep doing this sadhana constantly ... you too

will

> > come

> > > > to love God as much as we do. That will give you the peace

that

> > you

> > > > seek.

> > > >

> > > > I start and keep doing ... after a while I can fake it no

longer.

> > I

> > > > cannot visualize a loving mother or all-knowing father

taking

> > care

> > > > of me.

> > > >

> > > > So I ask , you are feeling the love. Why cant I ?

> > > >

> > > > My question is now : - Why is this not happening to me ?

> > > >

> > > > They said :- Keep at the Sadhana ...

> > > >

> > > > I promise :- I WILL keep at it, and polish it and refine it

> > and ....KEEP AT IT.

> > > >

> > > > A calm came over me with the resolution to keep at the

sadhana.

> > > >

> > > > Love will come .... when it has to.

>

>

>

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Dear Latha,

I've been reading a book by a westerner name Eckhart Tolle.

He is the most eastern westerner I have met (except Swami Satyananda of

course, but I'm not sure he counts as a westerner, heh).

Reading "The Power of Now," is doing amazing things for me. I

see it as a way to express in thought what is the power / weakness of

mind and a way of demonstrating how thought itself is a waste of time.

More importantly thought itself exists because of time and identifying

with thought puts us at the mercy of time.

I realized this week, on three separate occasions that I didn't have to

think.

It turns out I've done this from time to time in my life without knowing

I was doing it. Once when I was in college living with my Grandmother, it

was Valentine's day, I was laying in bed ready for sleep when I was

inspired to send everyone I knew a ruby heart as an expression of love. I

visualized a ruby heart, put the name of the person it was for inside it

and sent it to them, all in my imagination.

After that an aura of peace enveloped me. I was still thinking, but it

was different, it was more removed from myself. Anyway I was overcome by

a feeling of love like I had never felt before. This is long before I

knew of Hinduism or of spirituality in any real sense. It was an

experience of the Now. The feeling lasted for several minutes until I

felt my body freeze. At that moment my mind was fascinated, a pity

really, and wondered how hard I would have to concentrate to move my

finger. I brought myself out of that place with those thoughts.

Once, early in my relationship with Krista I was preparing for sleep at

her place, lying next to her, when I was overcome by a feeling of pure

joy. I was actually unable to think. The only words I could think of

were, "Everything is perfect." But I wanted to express so much

more. I realized in that moment that life is just a place where we come

to play. Some of us want to play into the drama and others out of it, but

that there is no judgement from our souls or from god, everyone simply

loves everyone. This personal space lasted for ten minutes or so, it

seemed like a long time probably because there was no time

involved.

This week I have been blessed three times more with such

moments.

The first time it happened this week I was thinking about Shree Maa and I

remembered when she hugged me the last time I saw her and how so very

sweet and cute she is. Then I remembered looking down on the back of her

head when she turned to walk away and I found the space between my

memories.

The feeling isn't a feeling. Its not a thought or any sort of sensation.

It simply is an experience felt beyond the physical, and yet it feels

physical.

The second time it happened I'm having a hard time remembering. There's a

reason for that I'm sure.

The third time was coming back to the bay area from Boise last night

(business trip to the Micron mother ship). I was reading Tolle and

somehow his words are very Chandi like. He has the ability to dispel

thought with words. I was talking to a coworker who was sitting next to

me about the book because he asked and I summarized it beyond my

capability, apparently Tolle rubs off on people. That is to say

apparently consciousness rubs off...

As I came home I was in and out of the space between thoughts and

feelings. Its just a joyous place where there is nothing right or wrong,

no judgement or criticism. It is a place free of duality.

Then I came home and saw Krista. I took a breath looked into her eyes and

stopped thinking. I felt the experience and then we talked about what she

felt.

Ironically, I wished out loud I could be that way for ever and that

thought was the next thought I had.

Even with the intrusion of thought, my fears and my habits (which are

related) were different in the evening. They were easier to look past, to

choose to do or not do.

Here are my "thoughts" and "feelings" about your

questions:

1) How do I feel that love that some advanced souls feel for

automatically for God (Answer:Keep doing Sadhana)

It is a lie that you aren't an advanced soul. That belief is your own

limitation. A mental conditioning that keeps you from experiencing

union.

Sadhana merely prepares your mind for accepting the truth. The truth that

mind is nothing and you are everything.

2) How do I keep the inspiration alive for doing the Sadhana. (Your

suggestions help here)

You are the inspiration, you are the one performing the sadhana, you

are the doer and the be-er. The thing that doesn't want to be inspired is

your mind because it resists the concept of non-exsistance. It resists

the truth. It resists accepting reality at face value, accepting

situations for what they are and it seeks distractions to keep you from

realizing yourself.

As long as you identify yourself with your mind you will continue to be

at its mercy.

But, and this is REALLY IMPORTANT, its okay to be where you are. We all

start out identifying with everything around us, namely our parents,

family and then friends. That is what a baby does. Over time we learn to

identify ourselves with actions, abilities, with money or other

non-objects, with the romance or the sex we have in our lives, or with

the conquests we under take or with the people we love (a repeat of

infancy). The next phase is identifying with our emotions and our mind.

Throughout this process by identifying with these things which are

subsequently not really who we are, we shine upon them the light of

consciousness and REALIZE that we are not them. By identifying with

things that are not ourselves we realize who we are. Its exactly how they

describe Durga by the things she isn't. Those wise ancestors knew how it

worked.

Further on our journey we go deeper within and learn that we are not our

minds or emotions either. But we could not realize that unless we

first identified with something and shined our light upon it. We are a

non physical light bulb lighting the universe which mistakenly identifies

with the things it shines upon. How else can a light realize that it is

the light, unless there is something on which it can shine and reflect

back at itself? This is the beauty and wonder of Mother's

universe.

Everything is as it should be right here and right now.

There is no future where you are enlightened like "advanced"

souls.

There is no past where you failed yourself.

There is only this moment and there is only the light of you shining on

your surroundings.

My big lesson for the last week is simply that I cannot free myself of my

mind with my mind. I was able to free myself from identifying with all

the things around me by identifying with my mind and that was a very

valuable step for me to make, it enabled me to shine light upon my mind

and hone it to what it has become a tool for my soul, but my belief that

I am my mind was just another mistake made because it was a necessary

step in finding me among the not mes.

Goddess bless,

Brian

At 09:18 AM 12/13/2003, you wrote:

Dear Kelly,

Glad that you are signing on and responding from time to time :) I am

glad for this forum and glad for people's thoughts because it helps me

articulate and define my own.

I think there are two different points here

1) How do I feel that love that some advanced souls feel for

automatically for God (Answer:Keep doing Sadhana)

and

2) How do I keep the inspiration alive for doing the Sadhana. (Your

suggestions help here)

My original post was addressing the first point.

As for the second point I can take either one of Maa's or Swamiji's

suggestions depending on the current frame of mind.

If I am feeling rational , then I go by Swamiji's suggestion " I

cannot feel love , but I WILL keep my knees down and keep going" .

This is sheer determination.

If I am feeling emotional, then I go by Maa's suggestion "I just

surrender to You. How do you want me to continue".

So I think I have a plan of attack for continuing my Sadhana depending on

my frame of mind.

As for the first point , there have been rare moments in my life

when I felt at complete peace with everything. Troubles ? Bring 'em on. I

wont feel a thing . Just total and cheerful acceptance.

Is this love ? Is love even better than what I felt? Wow. Then I want

THAT!

So I have had some small, tiny, inkling , tantalising demos of what some

great souls in Love might be feeling continuously . And this feeling

happens when I unconditionally accept the situation without trying to

control it . This is my real Sadhana and puja,meditation etc are

only methods to keep reminding me of that state of being open.

Advisable to stick with whatever gets me in that state and what methods

drew me there in the first place, simply because of the power of

repetition.

I think the dark night of the soul happens to advanced practitioners

after years of sadhana . I am flattered to think that my little attempts

at mourning the lack of love could be compared to that :))

Best wishes,

Latha

, Kelly Leeper <blissnout>

wrote:

> Latha, Namaste:)

>

> Forgive me if I am not consistant with the chat room these

days. I

am signing on and reading and then signing off. I hope I haven't

missed much.

>

> I understand the feeling of dryness and like Shubal said it is a

dark night of the soul and it's a wonderful phase. We can look at

it

like the dreadful dark night but it's a clue to the mystic that we

are going deeper. It's like drilling down to the core of the earth,

sometimes you hit granite and it feels like your getting nowhere.

At

that point, like nature, I take a small break. I keep doing

sadhana,

but sometimes in order to get the drill to penetrate, you need more

force and for me, I gain energy by taking a small break and then

going for it again. Sometimes when I resist taking break, I throw

temper tantrums. That 'dry' feeling can be made 'wet' by a

tantrum.

If we can get past our 'adultness of proper acting' and get back to

the child, we can throw a temper tantrum to Ma to help us drill

deeper, to get past the granite. Then we have to be open to what

She

gives us otherwise our tantrums are in vain. Tantrums are mega

emotions thru conscious thought or prayer, they are

> loaded with force and I never regret having one. I don't

think

Ramakrishna ever regretted having one either.

>

> Also, if you want to take a more analytical approach to the Dark

Night, ask yourself what is making you dry. It could be certain

beleifs are no longer fitting to your path, meaning at a certain

point, you develope your own understanding of God thru your own

experience. You create your own map for what works for you.

We have

to have courage at this point to take a path that seems more wild

than the previous one that has been walked. The mystic path is

adventurous in the inner journey. IMO Each Guru who is effective

walked a large part of the path on their own, following Guru in the

way Guru beckoned them. Not all Guru's had Guru's in physical form

to lead them, so they walked a wild path, not the beaten one.

This

is a clue to knowing that sometimes, we have to make our own way

on 'part' of the journey and if we blindly follow someone elses ideal

and .01% may not work for us, we need to discard that .01% and find

what does work for us in it's replacement. There are no

> mistakes. Often times dryness occurs when we are doing

something

that is not fitting to our nature and that in itself will impeed the

flow of shakti to penetrate the granite. If there is another tool

in

the drill that is impeeding the drill itself, it cannot be

effective. Walking the path means knowing yourSelf. The

reality is

that we know ourselves much better than anyone, so then when we

follow someone, that's easy, the scarey part is to recognize 'our'

knowledge and to trust that and follow it, intuitively, not

neccessarily with the analytical mind. My path is not my Guru's

path. It could never be because I am a different vantage point in

the Universe and so are you. Guru's beckon, but sometimes on the

journey, we have to recognize what is working and what isn't.

>

> For some, doing puja is not going to work for them and just sitting

will. For some sitting may not work when puja will.

Sitting works

better for me than puja and thank God my Guru didn't prescribe puja

for me to learn, he knew it was not for me. But, if he had, I'd

still follow my north and do what I know works for me from my own

wild journey, and that is to sit, breathe and be simple.

>

> The dark night is a great place, like the desert, full of life if

we have the sight to see it.

>

> My 2cents worth:) Jai maa!

> nitya_ma <nitya_ma> wrote:

> Dear Latha,

> Well, I cannot say yes to either of the two choices you offered

me,

> but I can say that you inspired me somehow to remember that

> story, I can't exactly say why. Since it was an intuition, God

knows.

> I believe any story is only valuable if it says something to

you,

> so if it does, great, if it doesn't, that doesn't matter.

> It's an old story. I heard it a long time ago, and of

course

didn't write it.

> I think as an old story it can have meaning for many people,

> otherwise we wouldn't keep passing it down.

> It may or may not be your story right now.

> I sure like what you said about it.

>

> Iove

> Nitya

>

>

>

> , "Latha Nanda"

<lathananda>

> wrote:

> > Dear Nitya,

> >

> > Yes, I agree with you . When we are pushed to a point when we

are

dry

> > and have no inspiration - we come to a crossroad. To continue

or

not?

> > Conventional wisdom doesnt help here and the mind is too

drained.

> >

> > At this point, just need to snuggle into our mom's lap and say

"i

> > surrender" and let go. And .... suddenly we are filled

with a

renewed

> > burst of energy.

> >

> > I am interpreting the story as - the old man represents the

tired

> > sadhak and the old lady as God/Guru. When he surrenders to her,

she

> > gathers him and rocks him and removes three hairs (blocks to

his

> > growth) and turns him into a young child (renewed burst of

energy

to

> > restart sadhana).

> >

> > Is that how you are looking at it too or am I way outta line

here? Or

> > was that story meant to be a koan of sorts ?

> >

> > Love

> > Latha

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> > , "nitya_ma"

<nitya_ma>

wrote:

> > > Dear Latha,

> > > Well, I know perseverence pays off, and patience.

> > > But we can dry up and out so easily when we try so hard,

when

> > > our nose gets skinned from being too close to that

grindstone,

> > > when our sincerity and integrity pushes us into the realm

of

Too

> > Much

> > > and we lose heart. Even though wandering in the

desert is

usually

> > > a part of our spiritual quest, and that we may need to

wander

there

> > quite a

> > > long time.

> > > Here is a story I heard a long time ago, and I just

thought of:

> > >

> > > It's called The Three Golden Hairs

> > >

> > > There once was an old, old, old man. He was so very

old that

most

> > of his

> > > teeth were missing, and his skin hung in many folds

from his

> > skeletal body.

> > > Only a few hairs remained on his head, and his eyes were

dimmed

and

> > milky.

> > > His body was weak, and trembled. He walked

unsteadily in the

> > darkest of

> > > nights--that kind of moonless dark where you can barely

see in

> > front of your

> > > face.

> > > The old man carried a lantern, with a

light inside. As he

> > stumbled along on

> > > the rocky, uneven ground, his light sputtered and grew

lower,

and

> > he grew

> > > weaker, but still he kept on; as he moved along the

ground, he

> > became so

> > > weak, that he stumbled, and fell, but still holding on to

his

tiny

> > light, he

> > > continued on his way, now crawling on the ground, feeling

the

way

> > with his

> > > one hand, and on his knees.

> > > On and on he went like this, slowly, and

painfully, and the

> > light got dimmer

> > > and dimmer and dimmer, and the night was very cold as well

as

very

> > dark, but

> > > still he kept on, and on and on, moving along on the

ground,

> > slowly, slowly.

> > > And the light got so dim, it was barely there, just a

tiny,

tiny

> > blue flame.

> > > The old man was gasping and wheezing, nearly in despair,

but he

did

> > not

> > > stop and he did not put down the lantern.

> > > After a very, very long time, endless

time, in the distance

the

> > old man saw

> > > another light, far away, and he continued to crawl

slowly and

> > painfully toward

> > > that light, closer and closer. As he approached, the

light

gave

> > shape

> > > to the surroundings, and one could barely discern it was

light

> > coming from a

> > > window. After a long while, the old man came to the

doorstep,

and

> > collapsed,

> > > onto the step, still holding the tiny light, barely

breathing.

> > > Suddenly the door flew open and

incredible, warm light burst

out

> > of the

> > > house, and on the step stood an old woman. She bent

down to

the

> > old man,

> > > and carefully gathered him into her arms and slowly,

gently

brought

> > his frail

> > > body into the house, closed the door, and still holding

him,

sat

> > down in her

> > > rocking chair by the blazing fireplace.

> > > She could easily carry him because

he was just barely

there,

> > just a bag of

> > > bones. She held him in her arms, and slowly she

began to rock.

> > > She rocked, and rocked, and rocked---a long time she

rocked,

> > holding him,

> > > humming softly to herself, rocking in her chair.

> > > Another endless time passing, as the old

woman held the old

man

> > and

> > > rocked him; as she did so, something strange and

wonderful

started

> > to

> > > happen. The old man started to look different as the

old woman

> > rocked;

> > > slowly his hair became more abundant, and his skin less

loose;

and

> > still she

> > > rocked. The grayness of his skin began to disappear,

and color

> > started to

> > > appear, and on she rocked; his body became more and more

finely

> > > muscled,and his hair started to turn golden, and as she

rocked

on,

> > he became

> > > younger and younger, soon he was a young man in her arms,

and

she

> > > continued to rock him; after a time, the old woman

paused, and

> > suddenly,

> > > reaching to the young man's head, she quickly pulled out

one

golden

> > hair and

> > > threw it onto the stone floor, where it landed, with a

ringing

> > sound of "ping...!"

> > > She continued to rock the young man, and he became younger

and

> > younger

> > > until his was a little boy with a rosy face and golden

curls

and

> > again she

> > > stopped, and again she reached and pulled out one single

golden

> > hair and

> > > threw it to the ground where it landed with a

"ping...!"

> > > She never stopped holding

him and rocking him, until one

last

> > time she

> > > pulled out a third golden hair and it too landed on the

stone

floor

> > with the

> > > sound of "ping..!"

> > > Then, suddenly, the

beautiful golden baby boy jumped up

out of

> > her lap

> > > with a joyful laugh, and running to the door, threw it

open,

and

> > ran out into

> > > the open sky......

> > >

> > > That's the story as I remember it. I can't say

exactly why I

was

> > reminded of it,

> > > or if it's a story for you, but there it is.

> > >

> > > with love to you

> > > Nitya

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > >

> > > , "Latha

Nanda"

<lathananda>

> > > wrote:

> > > > It all started with a question :- Why is this

happening to

me ?

> > > >

> > > > I look at the people who look serene . How do you do

it ?

> > > >

> > > > They said :- Keep doing this sadhana constantly ...

you too

will

> > come

> > > > to love God as much as we do. That will give you the

peace

that

> > you

> > > > seek.

> > > >

> > > > I start and keep doing ... after a while I can fake

it no

longer.

> > I

> > > > cannot visualize a loving mother or all-knowing

father

taking

> > care

> > > > of me.

> > > >

> > > > So I ask , you are feeling the love. Why cant I

?

> > > >

> > > > My question is now : - Why is this not happening to

me ?

> > > >

> > > > They said :- Keep at the Sadhana ...

> > > >

> > > > I promise :- I WILL keep at it, and polish it and

refine it

> > and ....KEEP AT IT.

> > > >

> > > > A calm came over me with the resolution to keep at

the

sadhana.

> > > >

> > > > Love will come .... when it has to.

>

>

>

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