Making memories…

It is hot hot hot in chennai. We are all complaining, all of us except Anjali, my nineteen month old daughter on her second visit to India. She is totally taking it in her stride with good cheer. And she has her instincts right – be outside in the morning when the breeze from the beach blows, go for drives in the ac car, and avoid crowded marriage halls under all costs.

Our time in chennai has so far been wonderful, relaxed for me, with my mom and dad revolving around Anji in a way that I can’t find words for. Its like magic, seeing their attention given so freely and watching them anticipate her every need and make sure she eats, she sleeps and she plays. On phone calls, I overhear each of them relating proud moments of how quickly she picks up things, how smart she is, and how even tempered (and how good with the iPad!). It is sweet and it makes me realize how special the bond between grandparents and kids are. It makes me glad I made this trip.

In the same room that I once studied for exams, read Jeffrey archer in bed and dreamed of potential boyfriends as a teenager, my darling daughter now lies, curled up on her belly with her face buried in the bed, dreaming her own dreams. It feels incredible that life comes a full circle, that it is my turn to give my parents: joy the kind only grandparents know and presence, of being and listening to their lives and their routines, now lonely without their two daughters, the apples of their eyes.

In this past week, Anjali has met new people, had new experiences and adventures, and our routines have been forgotten as we have played the way one plays during the summer vacation. I am a sucker for routines. Back home, If you told me I would let my child go to bed late or skip nap time to go to the beach, I would have scoffed. And here I am doing it.

I realize I’m learning the art of letting go, not just for myself, but also as an act of generosity, of giving the people I love something they will cherish – new memories. I learn too of the struggles my own parents went through when we were children, the struggles they never talked about, but they can now, with a sense of camaraderie. I too am a parent. This unspoken acknowledgment speaks volumes…

Mostly I feel peace, in this room that I grew up and that my daughter will know, and I hope, will come to make her own sweet memories, of hot summers and water melons and getting muddy on the beach, of power cuts and movie theaters and bhel puri and of crowded restaurants, loving relatives and pampering by her grandpa and grandma,

Tomorrow we head to a different city, Mumbai and Anjali will meet a different set of grandparents and I will get to see my beloved hubby.

So here is to sweet reunions, new experiences and to Childhood lived again, through generations…

With love,
S.

sweet slumber…

What is the time of the day when your defenses are down? when you can be utterly vulnerable and open, and let go of all that you hold on to? when you trust in some body or something to hold you when you do let go? For me, that time of the day is bed time. sweet slumber. Its the time when I can drop my worries and rest in peace.

I wasn’t a worrier, but somehow I have become one. Motherhood, wifehood, job changes and so on. Familiar story. Now I worry a lot – about my daughter Anjali and her eating, my husband and how tired he looks sometimes, myself and my changing identity (s). I worry about others I love, how they are doing and how I am letting them down by not being as available as I used to. I judge my worrying too which makes it worse. At various times of the day, my practice makes me notice my leaning forward trying hard to control things that I can’t possibly. My noticing helps me relax – when I am non-juding. I practice compassion and softening. But then I’m not a bodhisatva. I fail a lot.

It is at night, that I truly let go. Just before climbing into bed with my sweet hubby, I pause by Anjali’s door. Somehow there is magic at that threshold. I smell the whiff of her scent in her bedroom – that scent of diapers and diaper cream and baby lotion and another scent that is uniquely hers – a milky sweetness. I hear her breathing in peace, occasionally shuffling around in her bed. she always lies face down, and I can imagine her sweet face burrowed into the soft comforter underneath her. As I stand there silently, my entire body reaches a peace. everything is okay. everything is alright. It is time for bed. Tomorrow is a new day, who knows what it will bring!

with Love, S.

The flow of life…

When we make room to be imperfect and to make mistakes, we tap into this universal feeling in the world that sometimes we can’t be on top of everything. Sometimes, the human side of us that is vulnerable and overwhelmed comes to the top. Much as we would like to ignore that side of us and pretend that everything is great, that side is very much present, and today – demands attention. When we make room for that to happen, we start truly living where we no longer try to control what we can and cannot experience; instead we embrace everything that comes along: the hurt and the judgments as well as the love and the generosity.

This is a relief really, because we no longer have to pretend to be in control! We can then surrender to the current flowing around us, and let our inner soul guide us to see the choices we do have: how can we be kind and loving and open in the face of this uncertainty of life in each day – the roof falling when we need it the most, or the lack of water when we get really thirsty. When we embrace this too as one of life’s vicissitudes, that is when the skies rain water and the clouds provide the mist for our protection …

What a relief it is to acknowledge the truth of our existence just as it is, and then choose to live and dance with that!! Therein lies freedom…

with love, S.

returning home…

…after a three week journey to India with little nine month old Anjali and hubby.

As we all settle in, my thoughts keep returning back home, the lovely memories and hearts captured by our little one. Babies have such a wonderful way of meeting change – with wonder and openness and without comparing or judging. At each juncture, Anjali surprised us with her way of adapting to the newness of the situation and making the most of it. Like the heat of Chennai and the humidity of Mumbai. The airports and security checks and air travel. New places and new homes. One incident that comes to mind was when we went to a temple and Anjali was to be weighed in a large scale so that we could donate equal measure of rice. We were sure she was going to say, she had had it! She had just woken up from a short nap. Instead she sat on the scale, gave us a big smile, and proceeded to examine the chains with which the scale was held with great curiosity. It was a kodak moment!

What also surprised me was how calm and patient I was through all this, traveling with Anjali. I was traveling alone on our way back, since Abhi had returned earlier. And I found that she and I had this amazing connection where we were in sync with each other. She would turn to me, with each change, to check in and see my response. And if it was an okay, she was okay too! Witnessing that and being on the receiving end was a precious gift. That is in addition to seeing my parents and Abhi’s parents as grand parents, and realizing how amazing they were!

Returning back home has its own set of challenges and wonders. Its nice to be settled back at home again at the end of a long journey. Its also hard because we miss what we had, the love and convenience of having family around. So yet again, we face life in all of its uncertainties and changes. And as our hearts learn to make their way to equanimity, I can’t help feeling grateful for everything that comes our way. The changes that force us to grow and respond in wiser ways, and how we learn something about ourselves in the process. May this learning continue, with love and kindness…

With Love,
Shuba

Karuna…

The more I practice being mindful, the more I realize the need to cultivate and practice karuna, or compassion. How else can we get through life when so much is changing all the time? The Buddha called the uncertainty of life, the ‘dukkha’, translated loosely as suffering, but really is the quality of dissatisfaction. What we do when we become aware of this in a momentary way makes all the difference. Dukkha exists. We can’t do much about that. How we respond though, is clearly our choice. Our conditioned response is to resist, because feeling the ouch of dukkha is painful. But not so painful as the resistance to it! When we learn to soften through our difficult times, we learn a new way of being, one that doesn’t depend so much on circumstance, and instead depends only on how willing we are to forgive and be compassionate and start over. every day, every moment, every breath.

When Anjali was really little, crying was her main form of communication. When she cried, it always threw me off-guard, in a tizzy, and I would be at a loss on how to respond. And then I realized a way to get through it. I would sing to her, and that would calm her down enough, so that I could then focus on figuring out what she really needed, with a clearer mind. And then I realized: the mind (and heart) when agitated, was very much like a baby. We could force our way in trying to figure out what was wrong. Or we could sing a gentle song, soothe the mind and then treat the wound with equanimity. It seems to me, the second approach is much gentler, and often results in a wiser response. Its something we’ll have many many opportunities to practice. Perhaps, the whole point of dukkha is to develop this compassionate heart…I think of some of my Teachers who embody this, and it gives me hope. Every moment that I have the gift of experiencing the comfort of a compassionate heart strengthens my faith. Peace is possible!

May we find ways to comfort our hearts during moments of dukkha, and find our way to peace,
with metta, Shuba

Thursday…

Thursday is the day
I sit with God and
play a game of
question & answer.

Why am I tired? I ask,
Because you are.
A human being,
says God.

How do I open myself
to Love? comes one more.
By being, and receiving
comes the gentle reply.

Will you touch me,
and hold me? I ask.
I already do,
says God.

How will I know,
your presence?
By being with everything
you see. That is me.

Will you wipe my tears
and show me joy?
Open your eyes!
Its in front of you.

Everything passes…

Winter is slowly but surely coming to an end. Yesterday, the snow turned into rain, and last evening, we could hear the drip-drip of melting snow outside the window. This morning, the light was so beautiful, with fog-covered trees that promise to show signs of green soon. It is a reminder that all things come to an end, eventually.

There have been quite a few moments in the last few months when I have wondered aloud, how I could possibly get through this. Moments when I have said out to the universe: ‘I need a break!!’. Sometimes I think of how much we go through as human beings, and how many changes we weather, and how tenuous our existence. And my imagination boggles. My mind can’t fathom how we get through it. When I said this to my Teacher, she reminded me gently, ‘but we do’. Yes, we do get through it. All the changes, all the experiences, all the feelings. And there can be peace when we trust that.

Everything passes. Not because we will it to, but because that is the way things are. Two weeks ago, I was at a difficult place. Now, I am at a better place. I will be in difficult places again, and they will get better. Because things pass, and they change, and some things end and new things begin. Just like spring. Can we take comfort in that? Can we allow what changes to bring us peace?

With Love, Shuba.

A quiet moment…

It is the kind of day, where you just want to sit by the window, have a cup of tea and watch the rain fall. Nothing fanciful, nothing dramatic, and Oh! so full of peace. I happen to be among the fortunate few, who is doing exactly this: sitting by the window and watching the rain fall. The sound of rain seems to say everything. I can’t think of anything to add.

May the hope of spring rain that begins so many things on this Earth, bring peace into our hearts.

With Love, Shuba.

This being human is a guest house…

‘This being human is a guest house,
every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.’

I memorized these words from ‘Guest House’ by Rumi. This poem is so resonant of the experience of being human. How there is a certain ‘wonder’ about it – we never know what each day is going to bring. Literally. We have no way of knowing! Some days have it all in packets of it – the joy, the depression and the meanness. The wounds and the hurt. The gratitude and the amazement. How do we hold it all? How do we stand there as the wind blows and keep our jackets? Maybe we don’t.

He goes on to say ‘welcome and entertain them all even if they are a crowd of sorrows who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture.’ Maybe it is a good thing for the furniture to go. For the house to become empty. For our selves to dissolve. The harder we hold on to our ‘selves’ and identity, the more it hurts to let them go. And the more peace we feel when we do become naked.

Rumi goes on to say: ‘the dark thought, the shame, the malice – meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.’ What a revolutionary thought! To be okay with the malice and darkness of our hearts. To invite them in, instead of turning them away at the door with a broomstick the way we customarily like to do! To be okay with the loneliness and pain that accompanies being human, for it does, as much as the happiness and joy does. To embrace the spectrum of human life – because we can, because we are alive, and because this heart can feel!!

He ends by saying, ‘Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond’. This is hard practice. It involves surrender and grace. Unconditional Love and unquestionable self-worth. Trust. And this trust is what allows us to finally BE – dance with life as it unfolds.

May we find our ways in this Universe with Love,
Shuba.

The stones of my heart…

The lines from a Mary Oliver poem called ‘lingering in happiness’ are what I remembered this morning seeing the tender sun shine after a night of storm:

After rain after many days without rain,
it stays cool, private and cleansed, under the trees

The cleansing of the heart. the soft dampness afterward.

The tenderness of the heart, the willingness to be with things as they are – without force or willfulness but a gentle dropping into our experience comes with great difficulty. When things are hard we like to find ways to distract ourselves. One tried and tested way that the mind loves to return to is the blame game. We like to blame someone or something. There have been dozens of nights these past couple of months when I have listened to my mind do this. Because simply accepting that the situation is difficult and the conditions are hard and there is really no one to blame goes to the essence of Buddha’s first noble truth.

Life is hard. for all of us. Whatever way we choose to distract ourselves, acceptance of this truth in a gentle soft manner is what opens the heart. It is what allows us to be present with what arises. It is what teaches us compassion. and most importantly, it is not a failure or judgment of any kind.

The fact that life is hard does not take away from the fact that life is amazing. and it is possible for both to exist simultaneously. It is like night and day. There is no duality in this – it is just the way things are. We make it a problem by attaching to one and rejecting the other. and of course we do. It is painful to be with things when they change, when they are hard, when they challenge us to extend our selves and our kindnesses. But as we start to acknowledge this truth, as we begin to be honest with ourselves, there is a sense of freedom that starts to open up, a sense of space. all that energy spent in rejecting is now free to be!

This cleansing of the heart I’m starting to find, takes its own time and space, and all we can do is continually show up. over and over again. What is heartening is to remember that soon so many small stones, buried for a thousand years, will feel themselves being touched. (Mary Oliver)

May we be gentle with our souls in this journey of life.
with Love, S.