This is one of my favourite New Age doozers. Puhleez. Like, getting hosed because you didn’t get it in writing wasn’t a major drag. And spilling your friend’s secret to the wrong person burnt that bridge to a crisp. Or not saying “yes!” to the one that got away – well, THAT sucked. There are such things as mistakes. Major screw-ups and human stupidity happen to the best of us. The rest of us are in denial.

And yes, yes, mistakes are positively divine, each one moves us forward – even the ones that flip your world upside down. I’ve never made a mistake that I didn’t learn to love. But before we spiritualize and varnish the error of our ways, it’s incredibly useful to put our faux pas under the microscope. It’s liberating. It’s grown up. It’s dignified. And best of all, once you see your mistakes for what they are – you are more certain to good and truly move on!

Give it a go: Admit to your mistakes. Just admit it. No one else is listening. Make a pathetic, grizzly list of all the “sooo should not have’s” in your life. Don’t resist it. Clean house! (I’ll go first: should not have done a 50/50 deal with X, should not have shared the news that G’s wife was having an affair with his…sister, should not have struck a “creative control” deal with last publisher, should not have gotten B’s name tattooed on my ass.)

I wager that rather than feeling grossed out, you might get kind of giddy – eventually. You could feel the rush of knowing better, the delight of being the wiser for your wear. A subtle sense of compassion may start wafting into your being. Okay, maybe you still feel like a total dork. But find solace in your maturity. Because it takes courage to look your life squarely in the eye and admit your humanity. Humility clears the path to higher knowing…or a good laugh.

And both can be diametrically opposite.

Besides, man can use borrowed powers: the powers developed by peaceful intelligent people can be used by destructive, unintelligent people. Creative growth solutions meant for peace and development can be used for destruction, genocide and terror. This combination of delusion and acquired potency brings forth counterfeit leaders and politicians and a hollow or forced governing system.

Every governing system no matter how beneficently conceived eventually tends to exploit the weaker segments of society. History shows us many examples of the worst implementations of benign ideologies. Communism conceived for equality and sanity has been applied by most insane dictators. Equal powers for all is used as all powers for one. Karl Marx and Lenin could never have imagined communism the way it was applied by Stalin.

Albert Einstein considered the theory of relativity that resulted in atom bomb, as his single greatest mistake in life. On the other hand, Harry Truman celebrated the night Hiroshima and Nagasaki were bombed.

Money that was invented as an excellent solution for relative worth has become the root of all evil among humans. A solution designed for active easy flow became an excellent method for passive, concealed hoardings.

Any creative idea comes as a coin: with both positive and negative sides. The owner is free to encash any of its sides. He is free to buy bread or poison from it. Ironically nature has no substitutes for wisdom. And it has no shortcuts to acquiring it either. Hard earned knowledge always carries wisdom within itself whereas book-acquired knowledge doesn’t. A life lived honestly and fearlessly produces knowledgeable and wise men: men with empathy, righteousness and intelligence.

Contrarily, pseudo knowledge earned in degrees, skills and techniques results in egotistical, destructive and rigid men. Men who do not know the worth or effect of power never hesitate to use it for wrong reasons.

It is a paradox that the more knowledgeable a person becomes the less he yearns for power. It seems as if in some warped way, power attracts the corruptible. A wise person will always hesitate to lead masses whereas an immature person will always rush towards it. So much so that he wouldn’t object to crushing others to succeed in his ambitions. Men love to reap where they never sowed.

Acquiring power helps a person ignore or hide his inferiorities or complexes.

But the fact remains that the big shots are only little shots that keep on shooting. Contemporary society which confuses power with greatness, has encouraged this mutation to flourish. Our social system has a tendency to respect the wrong attributes in subtle ways. The human power pyramid is working upside down. Rather than respecting individuals we respect possessions. This is one of the greatest tragedies of life as we know it to be.

Without a doubt….the right power in right hands blended with knowledge, wisdom, love and respect for life is humanity’s most urgent need at this time.

I don’t know if it was the cigarette or my twisted mind that lead me to start reliving the long weekend, each piece of garbage at a time. “Is this all that is left of my life”, I thought, “a black garbage bag on a Monday morning, ready to be trashed again over the coming week?” The bag more or less represented my whole life, or the lack of it.

There were three envelopes that once carried the manuscripts of a book that I had sent to different publishers. All returned unopened, marked “return to sender” with a lousy sorry note attached which conveyed a tired, mocking “Yeah rrrright!”

There was a credit card receipt for fifteen hundred bucks that I pissed off at a pub on the Friday night with people, half of whom I didn’t even know and the remaining half, I wish I didn’t know. Still I went to spend the Friday night with them just for the want of human company and to feel alive. Staying alone gives me an overdose of privacy which I need to shake off every now and then. With no real friends around, beggars can’t be choosers; you go with whomever is ready to go with you.

Hiding under it was a movie ticket stub for The Hangover. While it was by far the funniest movie I saw in a very long time, I wished the whole time that there was someone beside me in that theatre with whom I could share my laughter. There are a bunch of people I could have gone to the movie with, but there wasn’t even one in that bunch whom I wanted to be with me. So even though it was a funny movie to watch on a Saturday afternoon, it was quite depressing getting out and knowing that it was Saturday and I had nowhere to go but home. So I decided to burn some fuel pointlessly and roam around the city of Hyderabad. Those oil reserves ain’t drying up for another half a century and I have bigger things to worry about. I went around the city, and realised even though it boasts of a rich history, there isn’t much in the city except malls. Malls of all shapes and sizes, big, small, cheap, costly but mostly pretentious.

Joining hands with the ticket stub was another credit card receipt for two thousand bucks, which I blew away on a pair of sneakers that I didn’t even want, if I must be honest. I bought it while I was browsing through one of the malls. God knows my credit was touching an all time high and the market did not look good enough to expect any kind of raise. These plastics are getting to me. No matter what I do to keep them inside my wallet, they keep coming back with a vengeance and accumulating charges bigger than the last time.

“Is this all that is left of my life”, I thought, “a black garbage bag on a Monday morning, ready to be trashed?” Credit card bills, lame trips to malls, lousy weekend get togethers and loneliness, is this all that I have accomplished over all these years?”

Rolled up in a paper ball was an airplane ticket of the round trip that I took to Calcutta on Sunday. My maternal grandmother had passed away and my mom was insistent that I show up personally to pay my respects. I never enjoyed these family gatherings, happy or sad; they were always full of gossips and hypocrites. I bid my farewell to granny and was sitting in a corner waiting for a couple of hours to pass so that I could be on my flight back home. My mother came and joined me, and even in that difficult time she managed to put on a smile for me which oozed love, affection and a genuine concern. We just sat there talking about nothing and everything for the next two hours, and even though she never asked, I don’t know how, but she knew exactly what was going on in my life. It is kinda spooky the way she always reads me. Just before leaving she gave me a hug and said, “I love you son, please come and visit us in the near future.” I felt a warm feeling envelop me and in my mother’s love I found the reason for my life.

I never understood how in the western culture moms become a thing of the past once you move out. For me, my mom will always be there. That one hug, drove away all my loneliness, made me feel wanted more than ever before, and probably gave me the will to keep up the fight. I know that when I make it big, she will be there to share it with me. Girlfriends may come and go but my mom is the constant in my equation.

I ashed my cigarette butt before taking one last drag and flicking it out of the window. I sealed the bag. I watched as down in went, through the chute, taking all my miseries with it. It was a new week, and I had bills to pay and expectations to meet… so off I went to work.

What is God?
Andre: I agree with Gabrielle Teare. God is whatever you want It to be. It is the controlling force of your life. Atheists believe God is their own mind.The religious people believe that God is as an external controlling entity that has control over their minds. Agnostics, well they are not sure. Religious people unfortunately each create their own God who is (most of the time) not compatible with another person’s god, even in the same religion. I myself subscribe to rationalism.

God or the Big Bang (or both)?
Andre: Well I don’t belief in creationism as it is too much a fairy story. The Big Bang is probable. There is another theory: the Flux Theory which postulates that the universe keeps getting created and destroyed over and over. Another interesting theory I recently read about in Calculating God by R J Sawyer is that God may have been created every time the universe gets created. So He first tries to sort himself out and then tries to put order into things but may also make mistakes. He might even have different choices each time; for example He can get something to change in the universe that does great good but it comes with side effects like a disease or environmental destruction. Interesting theory but it is as all the things mentioned in response to the question – just a theory. Also don’t forget the parallel universes theory. I do think as soon as we get to understand quantum physics we might get closer to the truth though.

God or Darwin (or both)?
Andre: Darwin seems more rational. We still need a lot more proof though. But I’d rather teach my kids something more rational than creationism.

God or Darfur ? (How can Darfur happen if there is God?)
Andre: Pain and injustice have been a reality with us from day one. Until man can stop his ignorance and self-righteousness we will have to be content to dwell in our own misery forever. Unfortunately the people who need to realize it won’t do so.

Who is God’s God?
Andre: It is a circular reference …. well for me there is no proven God. So if I can’t prove the first one I can’t even begin to theorize further. But interestingly enough I have observed too that most things in life follow a cycle including animals, plants, the planets etc. This makes me think that existence must be cyclical too. It is only human beings who see everything to have a beginning and an end; maybe we are  finite-focused and not able to understand anything else ?

Will the real God please stand up? (Why do we have so many religions?)
Andre: Again, I agree with Gabrielle. Even existing cults/religions keep splitting up. There is no proven God.

Is this just a big lab and are we just guinea pigs and God just a researcher?
Andre: Interesting theory but once again just a theory, with no proof. One can theorize the same thing about aliens – and – it is not even so far fetched if you start reading the ancient Sumerian scripts as Zecharia Sitchin has done. The gods of the ancients may have been aliens, but still no proof except strange scriptures.

Unexplained phenomena = God?
Andre: Nope we just don’t yet have the ability to understand our surroundings. If you look, for example, at the way animals and insects observe the world, you would know that they see the world completely different than humans. This changes how they react to things in life and how they understand it. I believe the same is true for us as humans, that is why science is so important – it is the only way we will be able to find out what we can’t see with our normal senses and begin to understand it.

Than all alarm clocks put together

As I woke up, each morning,

To the melodious tune of the cuckoo bird

Nesting in the bushy branches of the pine tree opposite my house.

The youthful tree with its lush green, needle-like frondescence,

Haven to the birds, which chirruped and chippered,

Perching on its beanpole branches.

The pine tree stood alongside a busy street,

As a silent spectator to the evolution and enlargement of life around it.

I spend hours knowing it,

Relating its existence with my own.

I attune myself to its complacent nature and we grow together,

Understanding and entertaining each other

In silent communion through the years….

In December of 2006, I was dating my now-husband, Luke, for almost a year and we were living together. Truthfully life was good! But while I was in this amazing relationship, and holding a “grown-up, non-sales, getting-my-full-paycheck-all-the-time job” which, at the time, I liked despite my condescending micro-manager of a boss.

The confusion I felt was in regards to acting – my passion, my dream since I was an Annie wannabee. Here’s what I had written in my journal:

I feel my acting stuff just sorta slipping away. I still have the desire and the need to do it – if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be upset about it – but I lost the optimism and the spark. I don’t feel jaded, per se – just worn out and tired of all this. I’m tired of chugging along, weary of the highs that don’t materialize and the lows that are just crushing. I feel like I’m not making headway, that I’ve never made headway. OK, maybe I am just a bit jaded.

But then it comes back around to the other part of what I need and what I want, which is a relationship that’s not strained by me being away. I also want to be financially stable and have a social life in NYC. And while I’m itching to be on stage again, I don’t want to give up the other pieces of what I need.

So I’m desperately trying to figure out a balance between my heart and my head. Do I do this job and have my social life and take a break from the business of show? Or do I keep this job and take all my personal days for auditions, to keep plugging away at this? Or do I just throw in the towel, keep on plugging away at my day job for a paycheck and the lifestyle I want to lead? Or do I go back to school to try to find something else that I can be passionate about?

I’ve been trying to unjumble my head for over a year with all this, and while I want to make both things work – be able to go on auditions and do extra work while I also have my day job – the more I try, the more tired I feel. So what’s the compromise? I feel like I’m a Practical Dreamer.”

That spring, I enrolled in the Career Change Workshop at NYU. That summer, I enrolled at ICA to be a life coach. I found my way, but I can’t help wondering how I really got here. These may have been the 5 push factors:

Being tired. Let’s face it, I was worn out and  jaded. I lost my spirit and wanted it back.

Feeling stuck. I knew that I wasn’t going out on auditions, and eventually I realized that the job I was in was not going to be the job that I was going to have forever (or even another year!). I knew I needed to make a change or risk making a career out of doing something that I rocked at, but hated (namely sales and customer service, since my experience and personality kept me steadily employed in those fields).

Growing up. At the age of age of almost-29, I knew that the one goal I had my whole life was no longer the right goal for me. My priorities had changed and I wanted to pave a new path based on them.

Refusing to compromise. I could have easily stayed with that job or, I could have left and gone to the next customer service/sales position. But that was unacceptable to me. I spent my whole life chasing a dream, trying to make a living doing something I loved – making a living not doing something I loved was not an option.

Being a self-starter. I know it’s an extreme comparison, but changing careers is like being an addict. You have to acknowledge you have a problem and then you have to be the one to do something about it – nobody can fix your problem for you but you.

Where are you on your journey?

My granny used to have a mango tree on her lawn. One evening strolling around her garden, I saw a chameleon sitting on the mango tree. The chameleon had just jumped from the creeper and its colour was slowly changing from green to brown. Suddenly a thought pumped in my mind, “It is a chameleon,” as my lips curled downwards in disdain.

Grandma was watching me. She walked slowly to me and asked, “Isn’t it amazing how it changes its color?” I looked at her and replied, “But, it’s ugly. It is a chameleon.” Grandma just smiled.

A few days later we walked to the market and grandma accidentally got in the way of a lorry. To avoid hitting her, the lorry driver swerved dangerously close to a scooter that was being driven by a young man. He lost his balance and crashed into a bucket of tomatoes. A bunch of young boys cracked up. Looking around angrily, the scooter driver yelled, “You ugly, old woman, look what you have done!”

Those words pinched my heart. Later that night I asked mom, “Ma is grandma ugly?”

“Who told you that?” Ma asked gently.

“The guy at the market said she was old and ugly.”

“But, she is the most beautiful women I have ever met. That means you have not noticed her properly.” Ma replied.

I went to my Grandma’s room. She was sleeping. I looked at her face. That was the most beautiful face I had ever seen: a face filled with compassion, love and grace.

She was beautiful because I was ready to see the selflessness and depth that had shaped her over the years. I could feel it because I wanted to feel her. Since then I have never seen an ugly thing in this world. Even today I can tell you that old is beautiful and chameleons are fascinating.

See without judgment, hear without prejudice and feel without inhibitions; heaven is here, here is heaven. All is beautiful.

Most of us spend our entire lives in the relentless pursuit of happiness. We pull our blinkers on, determined to find this elusive bliss, dismissing anyone or anything that comes in the way of us and our pursuit. Then one day, we suddenly arrive at the end of our lives, exhausted and disillusioned. Our tired eyes tell the story of one that tried but failed as we mutter, “Bliss kept eluding me.” And with that we lay down to the ultimate defeat as Bliss whispers….

But I beckoned to you, and you chose to bury your nose in your work instead of going to camp beneath the stars with your son.

I reached out to you in the form of the sun slowly sinking in the horizon over the Indian Ocean, but you wanted to rush home so you could catch the last 5 minutes of the football match.

I called out to you through the cries of your newborn but you lamented that you had lost your sleep.

I walked by your side, but like the horses that pull carriages in Central Park, you held on to blinkers, set your sights straight ahead and searched for me as if I were a destination to be reached.

And therein she revealed herself. Bliss is not a destination, for if you perceive her as such, she will surely elude you and remain forever a distant, unfulfilled dream.

Everyday Bliss reveals herself in all her splendor and glory. She is in the gurgling of a newborn, the smile of a child and the longing gaze of a lover. She walks this path with us every moment of every day to make our life’s journey meaningful. She is in the mundane pockets of happiness and in every moment she beckons to you.

So come, sit with me on this white sand, and as the sun slowly sinks over the horizon, listen to her twinkling laughter as she dances on the water’s edge.

To Follow:
Training, Rituals, Rights, Maps, Diagrams, Advice, Instructions, Trends, Rules, Policies, Procedures, Instincts, Music, and now also, one of the very latest of them all… trends, Twitter, etc.

As we learn to follow, we need to learn to adhere to some of them as well,
To lead and and not to bleed.

To fulfill needs.
And not to fulfill greed.

To stand out as an outstanding Human Being.
And not to standout as a standout.

Since birth, through childhood, and until we grow up, we follow and learn basics, till we learn them well, and master them.
Till we “stand up on our own feet” so to speak.
Thereafter, we decide to be selective as such, on our ‘following instincts.’

To Follow:
Intelligently, instinctively, or blatantly! Is now left to us.
Our choices and not our chances pave our way.
It is either us, only me, them, or they.
As we make our life like hay,
To our delight or much to our dismay,
Day after day.
Till we find ourselves turning gray…
In our relentless pursuit.
To follow and be followed,
And to be …. somewhat hallowed.

It’s then that we look back and introspect,
We do mull and we also inspect,
And discover a rather hollow hallow,
In us, as a fellow, who did follow,
As we swim and as we wallow,
In life’s depths both deep and shallow.

As we prospered and prospected, all the while,
Were it the choices or the chances, that made or marred our days?

As a nerd, was it worth it to be a part of a herd?
A question we seldom asked then, to be heard.

As a geek, why did we not tweak….
To shine, outshine and stand out,
When we had both the wherewithal and the clout to flout?
While we were nerdy within the herd….unheard.

Did we squeak or shout to tweak….
As a bold soul and not a meek?
To stand apart, instead.
By following our own… heart?

Follow the heart!
We must….
Trust the heart.
We must….
Take care of the heart.
We must….
Stand apart!
We must!

Life begins with the first heart beat.
Life ends with the last heart beat.

Therefore:
Choose the right path…follow the heart, always.
You see, life is always lived out of choices and not chances,
Choices made after hearing the inner voices…made by the heart.

Firstly:
Do you have a heart to do so?
To stand apart?
To live long and to belong and longed for?
To be loved, kissed and missed?
To be bliss and blessed?

If you have one…Follow that heart please.
As it is given to you on lease.

Follow it always.
Listen to the inner voices it makes, and follow them blindly,
Make the right choices….
You will live life…so kindly,
As it was meant to be.

My grandfather was Leonard Alphonse Laporte. (Note the small ‘p’ in LaPorte – in high school I decided a capital P was more elegant.) Like most French Canadian grand-daughters, I called him Pepe (Pip-ay). Len sold the family farm and bought a small bike repair shop and built it into a popular sporting goods store in Windsor, Ontario, just ‘cross the Detroit border. So for Christmas I got soccer balls and ice skates. I wanted the hard cover edition of the Little House on The Prairie and some oil pastels. Every family has a black sheep.

Baaaaah. As a modern-minded, progressive chick, I’ve spent a vast amount of energy re-defining myself. And that has usually meant looking forward, getting far away from backwards and roots and origins. Far away from Hockey Night in Canada, and Chrysler, and trailer camping. I spent most of my adult life living in the US, working in communications, aspiring to relax in four-star hotels.

AFFINITY AND APPRECIATION ARE MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE
I’m not embarrassed about where I came from, I just never felt like it was the right home for my spirit. I never felt deeply connected to it. And if there’s a lack of connection, there is often a lack of appreciation. And while connection isn’t something that can be forced, appreciation is something that can actually be fostered. By celebrating our origins – even if they have little resemblance to our ideals – we call forth our wholeness, a greater love.

Even if you intensely do not want to turn into your mother, there’s something beautiful about her that also lives in you. Whether it’s country clubs or country music that makes you want to hurl, there’s something about growing up in a radically different scene that’s added to your street smarts, your grace, your grit. Finding the charm factor where we’ve long felt sour is the stuff of wisdom…and relief.

By plucking out the strands of delight, those fibers of nourishment from even the most ill-fitting situations, we can weave ourselves a stronger fabric of identity. A heavy material that makes us durable, or something softened by surrendered love. Warmer. More colourful.

When I think about my pip, I feel thankful to have come from a family of hard workers who know how to party. I’m happy for the trailer park where I sneaked my first smoke, for Sunday masses that showed me the glory of faith, and for growing up in an industry town that taught me about big hair and bling. (You can take the girl out of the small town, but she’ll always wanna have big hair.)

What do you love about your origins?

“Oil your hair regularly son, else you’ll lose it before you hit thirty.”

“Its just a phase, you’ll figure it out don’t worry, you’re just a teenager.”

Seems like yesterday when I was eighteen and got these regular doses of wisdom from you dad. I just went with the flow, partly because I had no choice. Now I am about to hit the thirtieth winter of my life and I am wondering…what the hell just happened? My best years just whizzed by and I am….well, not really sure…about anything.

Dad, I have a career, yes you were right about it, but you know what, I don’t want it. I look at people at work who have been here for more than a decade….and I am scared to death to end up like them. They are nothing but a bunch of corporate zombies. No zeal, no enthusiasm, just a hefty pay check at the end of the month, and the only motivation to go home, if at all, is a loveless quickie with their wives, out of need and not want.

Why didn’t you trust me to make money if I had gone the way I wanted to? Yes, the success rate in the non-conventional fields is low, but I would have survived. I am surviving this aren’t’ I? No, I haven’t figured it out yet, why you pushed me here where the only thing to look forward to is the “end of day”.

Dad, to confess, I hardly oiled my scalp when you were not looking, and I still have a full head of hair. Why did you force me to have the whole oil refinery operating on my head? Why did you think that if I went around trying hair do’s and tattoos I would turn into a punk? Well, I never got to have those; all I have now is a head full of useless hair, which is frowned upon by my boss at the mildest hint of any style, that is anything other than boring. I wouldn’t have minded losing it, had I used it in time. I would gladly trade every strand of my hair now for a mo-hawk back then.

Dad, the phase is still persisting. I was reckless, I was confused, I was wild. First the teens and then the twenties whizzed by and I am still all those things. I am as reckless as I was as a teenager with money. I could never have saved my pocket money back then and I am not able to save my salary even now. I am as confused as a teenager. I never understood why I was studying the things on the curricula and now I never understand half the procedures I am made to follow in the office. I am confused as to why I am doing what I am doing. I never came around to the idea of the “career ” that you chose for me.

Dad, it’s not that I blame you, I blame myself. Maybe I was not reckless enough. I should have been more reckless and followed my heart in spite of you. Maybe that would have worked out…. maybe not…. but one thing is for sure, I wouldn’t be writing this letter to you sitting in my bleak office when I should be climbing the corporate ladder to a drab future.

You know what, it’s better late than never. The one thing that this big bad rat race has taught me is, even if I win it, I’ll still be a rat. So, I am going to keep trying to hack it in the world the way I want to. The reason for this defiance, well, there are many, but mainly because on my fortieth birthday when I come to visit you, I don’t want to write an application to someone asking for leave permission.

Maybe I am wrong, maybe I haven’t grown up, maybe your way is the way to go, but if I keep going this way, I’ll never get rid of the nagging ‘what if’. For once, Dad, I wanna tread the forbidden road and not the one ‘less traveled.’

The peace. The humility. The sheer devotion. Getting to Christ In The Desert was a pilgrimage that my cells thirsted for. It’s worth mentioning here that I considered being a nun when I was about six years old. Then I learned what celibacy was and heard that there was a lot of cleaning involved in convent life, and I asked Jesus for his forgiveness because I just knew I wasn’t going to make the cut. I decided I wanted my own variety show, like Cher. Religion, cabaret…it’s all a kind of intense theater of passion.

I arrived just in time for prayer. The monks sing their prayers. Glorious Gregorian chants echoed against the baked clay walls. My heart swelled. Tho’ the heavy sin-trip of the Psalm wasn’t lost on me, I was swept away by the beauty of it all. And I so needed to be swept away. When the chants concluded and the monks filed out behind the tabernacle, I was able to be alone in the chapel for a long, sweet time. I thought about hope – which I have a very cantankerous relationship with. And I thought about priorities of the most divine kind. My priorities have been bumping against each other for a while now – clanking around and grinding down my heart. The focus of my trip was to put my so called priorities on the altar. Smash few. Polish some. Reorganize them to sync with my soul.

“Above all, prayer holds the first place in the monk’s day and nothing must be preferred to this activity. Prayer involves coming into contact with divine life, in openness to the mystery of love which is written in our hearts.” The monks are encouraged to stop their chores if they feel inspired to pray. The passion to pray comes before work and all other tasks. The Brothers pray seven times in day in collective chanting and in solitude. Seven times a day.

So many mornings I have chosen email over meditation. I let deadlines rank over a stretch or a cuddle or a glass of water swallowed slowly and appreciated. I override the call to feel myself – the call to pray, or meditate, or be fully awake. Prayer comes in all forms and each one spoken brings grace to the day.

Thank you. Yes. Have mercy. Keep them safe. How lovely. Courage, please. I love you.

Our hearts are the altars. Ours days, when lived awake, are another chance to know the joys of what matters most. Attend first to the divine and the work at hand becomes art.

Tune in tomorrow for Part II of my monastery adventures…

I was jamming with a client whom I adore. She’s kind-hearted, she’s willing to look at her crap and her gloriousness, and she’s excellent at what she does. And, as it tends to happen, I slid in one of my favourite backwards burning questions:

“So in terms of ‘success’ how do you want to feel like?” I asked.

“I…I want to feel important,” she admitted. And then it came, the back-paddle, squashing of desire: “But is it wrong to want to feel that way? Shouldn’t I want to feel something else?”

Freeze frame. Is it wrong to want to feel a certain way? Why would it be wrong? Who says? What would happen if you let yourself feel a certain way? How about starting with being okay with wanting to feel a certain way and seeing where that leads you? Back to the convo:

“Is it wrong to want to feel important?” I echoed back to her. “Well maybe some therapists would think so. Could be your wounded inner child ‘n all that, but let’s work from here and now. In terms of your business, what would make you feel important?”

“Celebrity X would be photographed in my product. And the editor at that big magazine would decide to put me on the cover for the next issue. I’d be front and center at the gala. And my cheap clients would stop pestering me for cheaper product, and I would be working with the people who really value what I do.” She was on a roll. Her voice was clear. I imagined she was sitting up straight.

“Uh huh. Well, that sounds like a rocking business to me. So, what do you need to do to help ensure that you feel important?” And with that, a very concise to-do list rolled off her tongue and the future looked brrrilliant.

“You know, just talking about what I’m going to do to make myself feel important makes me feel…important,” she concluded. That’s what happens when we take control of our desires. Moving toward gratitude helps you feels grateful. Aiming for power gets your power circuits firing. Planning for love makes you feel warm and fuzzy. And so it goes.

I used to have intense guilt for craving creative freedom – and then life forced me to go solo and I learnt in one fell swoop that my guilty craving was a very divine calling – with all the rewards I was hankering for.

Enough with feeling guilty for wanting to feel the way you want to feel. Follow your desired emotion. Don’t analyze it too deeply. Just let it roll and rumble a bit. It may be there to humble you, expand you, heal, surprise or reinvent you. Anywhere it leads, it’s there for a divine reason.

so much depends upon

a red wheel barrow

glazed with rain water

beside the white chickens.

So much is because of you. The letters you’ve written and sent, the touches, the kisses, the parties. Every grain of advice, set of directions, every breakfast for guests. That quarter you tossed into a panhandler’s hat could have facilitated the call that turned it all around. Little kindnesses, grand gestures. The doing of your being imprinting place and time. Inevitably.

Consider everything you’ve ever been thanked for.
Every photo you’ve been in.
Every corner you’ve turned.
Every time you’ve signed your name.

Consider that you radiate. At all times. Consider that what you’re feeling right now is rippling outward into a field of is-ness that anyone can dip their oar into. You are felt. You are heard. You are seen. If you were not here, the world would be different. Because of your presence, the universe is expanding.

How does that feel to consider?

CEO, #1, Captain, President, The Leader.
Who cares. It’s just business, moving parts, day to day. You can be replaced.

Mother. Father. Teacher.
Aside from single parents caring for little ones, you’re just not the only influence in your children’s lives. They may not even want to stick around when they grow up. You may never be thanked. They will find their way with or without you.

Lover. Partner. So-called Significant Other.
Replaceable. And God knows, as a partner, you can certainly be improved upon.

You’re one in a about six and half billion. A speck. A blink in the eye of God. A nano micro weeny zip in the eons of time and vastness of space. No one’s happiness really depends on you – no one’s. People can take care of themselves like they always have. It’s most likely that one hundred years from now, nobody will so much as mention your name.

You’re just passing through, and times flies.

Life will go on with or without you.

How does it feel to consider that?

Tune in tomorrow for Part Two.

It was obvious to me that like any self respecting American, and a Harvard MBA to boot, he wanted a concrete answer. I told him that like any self respecting Indian I needed time to formulate my concrete views — a few weeks I told him. Unusual for an American, he agreed to meet me later on this point. As luck would have it I received an invitation to speak to a diverse audience in Washington DC, as part of the many farewell parties in my honour as I was packing my bags to return to India for good. I spoke on the topic: What Does It Mean To Be An Indian?

Here’s the gist of my speech.
It is always a difficult task to distil from the collective experience of a humungous civilization that single defining aspect of life that constitutes the character of India. I can only try ever so humbly. In trying to piece together my several thoughts on this subject, I was helped by a few incidents of a more recent vintage. These incidents perhaps highlight what it means to be an Indian.

When I saw Ms Susan Boyle winning the hearts of the world with her talent and simple upbringing in the show Britain’s Got Talent, I asked myself whether a similar show in the Indian context might reveal to me what was perhaps hidden in the multiple images that India conjures in any mind. Sure enough I happened to receive an email forward by someone named Mary that stunned me. Here was a group of labourers performing a sensational dance relating to Lord Krishna in the wildly popular show India’s Got Talent. They called themselves The Prince Dance Group and had a physically challenged guy too. The amazing choreography, the use of traditional mythology, the perfect sense of timing and above all, the self confidence to perform before an urban audience — it was truly breathtaking.

The judges were among the best known talents in India: film director Shekhar Kapoor, actress Kiron Kher, and actress Sonali Bendre. As the act came to a close I could see tears in the eyes of the judges. Though there were not many close-ups of the audience I suspect there was hardly a dry eye in the crowd. Even as the dance came to a close I could hear shouts of “BHARATR MATA KI JAI!”

As the dance came to an end Kapoor actually wept and declared, “I have seen performers in the US,UK and Russia but believe me I have never seen anything like this . I am really proud to be an Indian.”The other judges just about managed to control their tears. Kher was ecstatic –“Fantastic, Fantastic!” she shouted .

I really cried for more than one reason.. Not only did I find the talent stunning, I had found the answer to the question I had been asked to answer — What Does It Mean To Be An Indian?

Here was a bunch of Oriya labourers — I have spent a decade in Orissa and am more than familiar with the extensive and degrading poverty there. These labourers live under inhuman conditions and as far as we urbanites can see they may have no hope of ever living a civilized life, even generations from now. Yet these guys had shown that one defining Indian characteristic ….Endurance… a quality that makes us not just put up with great odds but strive with the confidence that one day we will win — that every night is followed by the dawn, that all is never lost, that no matter how the international community jeers at our corruption, our idiotic politicians, our inept bureaucracy, our moribund education system, our abysmal health system, our crumbling infrastructure, our humungous population, we will come up triumphant.

Of course we realize that these are lofty sentiments and unless they are translated into concrete action we will remain as a nation thriving on pious platitudes. Believe me, young India has clearly told the older, fading generation, “We have seen and tasted progress. We will go ahead no matter what. Not all our vile politicians or bumbling bureaucrats or corrupt policeman or judges can hold us down. We will rise despite you guys.” Indians have endured much over thousands of years but have now decided that if you can’t beat them just dexterously move around them.

The evidence of a young India on the move is now seen in the far corners of the country as youngsters from small towns and remote villages display uncanny talent and ambition. I recall seeing a TV journalist asking a young boy in a remote village in Bihar about his role model. “Bill Gates” was the answer coming from a smiling cherubic face, even though it seemed to me that he had not eaten a fulsome meal all his life! He had endured hunger for years and his family had endured hunger for maybe generations but that did not prevent this youngster from aspiring to be the world’s richest man sometime in the future. The extraordinary confidence in that boy’s body language told me that he was aiming for the stars and at worst he may make it to the moon.

My own family is a saga in the endurance that characterizes India. My grandfather was a laborer in a harbor in a small town in south India. He and his large family of 5 sons and a daughter endured a marginal existence. My father joined a private sector company during British rule in India. When the world went to war in 1939 my father lost his job. He told me much later that my mother had, at one stage, only one saree, the traditional Indian women’s wear. She would wash this lone saree at night and cover herself with a towel and quickly wear the saree at break of dawn. The family endured near poverty and yet I am an MBA from an ivy league Indian business school, and a modestly successful guy. My niece was ranked among the highest in GMAT scores in the world. She is a Harvard alumnus and works for the most admired consulting firm in the world at Wall Street. Her siblings are all highly qualified professionals, who in their early years endured a humble middle class existence but are now in the topmost income brackets in the USA — a far cry from their laborer great grand father.

At this point of time I look at India as a genie that has come out of the bottle. The British denuded India over 200 years. Thereafter a rapacious polity and a repressive bureaucracy kept the lid tightly closed. But now a long suppressed people have decided to endure such atrocities no more. India’s time has come. BHARAT MATA KI.’

As I took my seat there were not a few wet eyes in the room. My eyes were wet too. If you believe in what I have said please forward this to your friends.

Knowing what does not work for you is a powerful tool for creating more of what does work for you. Measuring positive feelings against negative feelings is one of the constructive ways to use comparison, and it’s a great way to tune into our deeper truth.

Write down 10 things that creep you out, turn you off, or drive you nuts. Then ask yourself why it bugs you? Is it a past association, an unexamined story that you’ve been telling yourself, an indicator of your truest values?

(My list goes something like: people who walk in without knocking, lack of gratitude, airy fairy types, wood paneling, relentless sarcasm as a barrier to intimacy, red  and black as a clothing colour combo, when people call and say, “Can you call me back?” without leaving more of an explanation. Long winded explanations.

When I look at the first cut of my peeve list it has a lot to do with standards of respect and privacy. My values. And wood paneling reminds me of a childhood home that I swear was haunted.)

Is there anything on your list that’s taking up too much space in your life, or…could be re-assessed and maybe even embraced by you?

Contrast is an excellent teacher.

Someone asked me this week, “Have you forgiven so and so for such and such?”
And I did the puppy head tilt, “Huh?” This question throws me for a loop.
“Well…I don’t really feel like it’s my place to forgive them,” I replied.
It’s not that I condone bad behavior, it’s not that my heart doesn’t get pinched, and it’s not that I forget – ’cause I’m not the forgettin’ type, that’s for sure. But there’s something about “forgiveness” that seems, okay, forgive me, but…arrogant.

“I forgive you.” It rings of, “I bequeath to you…I permit you…I hereby knight thee…” It feels lording. A friend asked for my forgiveness once and I felt embarrassed, and intensely reluctant to add to her shame. I started laughing. “As if,” I said. “Duh, like, whatever, it’s done, over, let’s get on with things.”

I’m a Very Big Believer in accountability. I think the Truth and Reconciliation movement is a monumental leap in humanity’s evolution. The heart can transform the ghastly into the educational, and betrayal into blessings galore. Forgiveness is a lever to our divinity. BUT… Unexamined forgiveness is a distortion, just like “I love you,” can mean, “you fill my holes,” or, “you meet my requirements therefore I adore you.” Distorted forgiveness makes you right, which usually makes the other person wrong – the ego loves that equation. Even though your eyes are smiling while you’re saying “I forgive you,” there might be a little voice inside saying “Ha! gotchya.”

True forgiveness is…well I’m not entirely sure what true forgiveness is. I’ll let you know when I ascend to those heights of all knowingness, {in which case I’d be levitating and too blissed out to write little articles about self realization…} But I am wondering if enlightenment relies on the forgiveness formula. As The Course in Miracles puts it, “Forgiveness is unknown in Heaven, where the need for it would be inconceivable.” Duh. My sentiments exactly.

The rain has stopped now, as I sit in my balcony sipping hot cocoa and looking at downtown Seattle and beyond. The air is crisp and bears a freshness, which comes with the benumbing chill of fall rain. An occasional breeze wafts in with  the smell of wet earth and the sweet scent of an unknown flower. The frame of the city that I can see is at rest; drenched in the Midas touch of the setting sun. Though it looks beautifully at peace, I sense a hint of some unknown danger lurking beneath.

My view is restricted by neighboring apartment blocks on both sides, so I actually only see a single frame of a montage of the city. It looks like an artist’s unfinished canvas – perfect with all its imperfections. Dense dark gray clouds hover around the upper left corner and then disperse into patchy globs, as if an amateur painter used too much water to spread the gray across the canvas. Random streaks of clear blue sky disturb the gloomy gray. The foggy white, blurred slope of West Seattle meets the almost splotchy backdrop at the right edge. Beneath that, the familiar vermilion cranes at the dock suggest water, though I cannot see it from where I am sitting. The cranes are crisscrossed with the white lattice of the tall, pointed, arches of the Pacific Science Center.

Moving towards the center of the frame, I can see the stacked cubes of modern skyscrapers of downtown. I occasionally catch a lit window indicating the only sign of activity in this otherwise still city frame. Further down closer to me, the dirty green mass of Larry’s Market peeps through the tall thorn bushes that might have been lush green leafy trees when summer started. Closer still the dull, flat roofs of Queen Anne’s brick buildings peek through the yellow, rust, plum and various greens of leafy bursts. The sporadic glitter of a rain drop clinging tantalizingly to a fragile leaf or sunlight reflected off a building’s glazing are the only elements, which make me wince at an unusually beautiful view of Seattle.

My eyes move towards the Space Needle, which for once, due to the skewed perspective, appears to be towering over downtown Seattle. Since I cannot see its base, all I see are two concrete flanges resembling two gigantic, cheap plastic, white, salad forks holding up an equally disproportionate slice of gourd rind that has been rendered colorless, topped with a dollop of stiff white frosting. Sandwiched between the salad forks is a metal cage in which two elevators move up and down totally out of any synchrony.

Suddenly out of nowhere, an airplane glides across the canvas towards the iconic structure. I watch with a sense of anticipated doom as the aircraft approaches the concrete forks. It almost seems like a 9/11 recap that they keep showing on TV with the plane approaching either tower. I close my eyes and hold my breath in preparation for the loud crash, but seconds pass by and I hear nothing. I open my eyes only to see a beautiful city basking in the golden glory of fading sunlight.

Although at first the frame seems unchanged, I cannot feel the same about it. I know something has been disturbed if not physically at least in my perception, though I know not how. While disentangling my thoughts, I unintentionally evoke a terrifying memory that has marred this beautiful painting forever – a thin white stroke of jet trail. An otherwise innocent stroke has assumed unimaginably fearful proportions in me, casting long shadows on this exquisitely beautiful Seattle sunset. Wistfully I realized that the enchantment had been broken….. it was time to go indoors.

We’re so occupied with home improvement and self-improvement that it’s difficult to see the true self that’s underneath. Who are you fixing, anyway? Do you know? Maybe you don’t need improving at all. Perhaps your original self is more beautiful than you even imagined.

Freedom worships inquiry. The truth is far easier to deal with than illusion, evasion or avoidance. You can wrap your arms around it. You can look it in the eye. You can take it to the bank. I think Saint Thomas had it right, “What you bring forth will save you. What you don’t bring forth will kill you.” Truth frees.

Stop looking for the answers.
Look for the question.
What question are you living?

{FYI my current living question came to me from Patti Digh and I’ve been noodling on it with glee for a few weeks now: “If my art provided everything I need in my life, how would I approach my life?” Ahh. Just the inquiry itself creates space in my heart for more.}

Rilke hit it home when he proclaimed: Live the questions, live them now!

So…?

A dream is a very sacred thing to share.

If you knew someone’s dream, you might look at that person very differently…with more tenderness, more respect, more familiarity, and more wonder than before. Dream-sharing melts boundaries and it calls forth resources and commonalities.

Look at everyone you meet this week and actively think to yourself, “I wonder what their dream is?” Ask at least one person this week what their dream is. You can do it subtly, and traditionally, like, “Where do you see yourself in five years?” or “What did you want to be when you were growing up?” Or you can just go for it, playfully and momentously and ask, “So, like, what’s your big dream?” So many people never get asked that. And fewer are really listened to. And for those who are stumped by the question, I guarantee they’ll be thinking about it for days to come. Just the asking of that question sets essential things in motion.

The guy in the cubicle next to you may be working on novel about unicorns and espionage. Your sister might be fantasizing about her own cabaret break out performance. Your postal carrier may be patenting the next great invention. Make no assumptions about your partner, your workmate, or the bus driver.

Wonder what their dream is….

Small, mighty, seemingly impossible, or simply pure – when you know what someone’s dream is, your perspective leans toward openness. And every dream needs space to run.

Oh, my dream-stream…
Inspire freedom seeking and engagement with life in a big big way for a long long time. That means my next book, White Hot Truth is a stunning success in every way possible, and I’m wearing suede boots and big gold hoops on stage and enjoying my “you-know-what-I’m sayin’-don’tchya?” laughs with thousands of people.

And I dream of Morocco and France and a koi pond in the back yard of my mod pre-fab house. I dream of collecting art and magazine coverage. I dream about communion with my man that blows both our minds. I dream of sitting ’round a fire with leaders and lovers of progress. Being able to give ‘yeses ‘and make phone calls that open doors and new dimensions for people.

I dream of children being taught mindfulness in school, and a movement of conscious birth choices and parenting, and technologies that heal. And I dream of invitations that humble me, and more magical connections with people whom I recognize on a cellular level, and we band together to leverage change, and to support and care for each other in the way that reminds you how great it is to share space and time. And I dream of feeling more electric and sweet every single day.

But mostly, I dream of being amazed.

How ’bout you?

Man has a basic resistance to chaos. He likes life predictable and systematic. Want evidence? Look around you. See how good a man is at creating systems that are simple, identical and replicable. The quality, dimensions and features of the computer that you are looking at right now have been identically replicated under mass production by man and man-made machines. Also, look at the bricks that were used in building the room where you are sitting in — they are all the result of similar intentions and action.

I bet you will find this intent and effort towards synchronization, system, similarity and simplicity in almost everything that is man-made or conceptualized by humans. Take for instance our schools, where we mass – produce students of similar skills, knowledge and attitudes. What about our religious institutions where we cultivate faith and belief for mass acceptance. Man is continually seeking system and order. And anything that is not well-ordered is considered ‘chaotic’ by him.

However, God (Nature or Creator) likes complexity and chaos. Look at the living things that God has created like the trees, leaves, flowers, animals, birds, insects and microscopic organisms etc. And, the non-living things like rocks (God made version of bricks), mountains, seas, rivers, clouds, soil and air etc.

Ponder over it for a while and you will realize that none of the things mentioned in this list have an identical pair. No two trees look similar. Even the most similar looking leaves of a plant are different in some way or the other. Have you ever eaten two apples (or any other fruit) that look and taste same? Invariably the answer would be an emphatic “no”.

The human desperation for synchronization is also reflected in the concept called time. When man invented time, he might not have imagined that he was creating his own master. We have a fixed time for everything. The omnipresent master of the human race, called a clock, governs all offices, schools, railways, airplanes etc. On the other hand, try giving a fixed time for rains, earthquakes or even an everyday phenomenon like sunrise and sunset, and you will be wrong each time. That is how God governs his empire. He is enigmatic. God is not punctual.

So, why is Man like that? Is he that careful a person or is he is just trying to impress God or is it that he just cannot be anything but systematic, synchronized and simple? I don’t think any of these descriptions are accurate.

And, why is God like that? Is He careless or He is just experimenting or does He just want to have some fun? Maybe God just cannot be anything but chaotic, asynchronous and complex? I think all of these descriptions are accurate.

God, one might believe is very careful but I think He is not. Have a look at the way He has made human beings. He gave us almost similar bodies with congruently designed body parts even to the microscopic level of the body cells. Each body cell is the same in all of us. However he programmed them so differently that certain cells grow to become body parts while others grow to become a deadly disease called cancer. He installed a brain in all of us but with dissimilar qualities, capacities and intentions. Hence, you have a major difference between the two shrewdest brains of Albert Einstein and Adolf Hitler.

Maybe we can all agree that God loves experimenting. The proof for this line of thought is the constant flux that we are living in. The only thing constant is change.

One ancient Persian saying goes something like this “…there never has been, there never will be and there never is a moment repeated in the history of time”. To my very human imagination, God could either be a scientist at work or a playing child. So, either He is experimenting and still exploring or He is just aimlessly changing things to have some fun.

Still don’t agree? Then the last reason might satisfy you. GOD LOVES CHAOS. He likes the way we remember Him and seek Him whenever we are in midst of a chaotic situation (please read the first line of the passage again). He seeks your prayer, your attention. We remember God when we lose someone, when we lose something, or when we are lost. We can safely say that we remember God mostly when our lives are out of control. We as a breed have realized this that things work our way if we keep in touch with the Creator. Over the period of human evolution, He has realized that only chaos and complexity can prevent Him from being obsolete or forgotten.

Now, the next time you are late, in trouble, or surprised, just think that God is at work.

I recently participated in a ‘heated’ dinner debate about which is the best season of them all. One person said “winter” for all the cosy comforts it provides. Another said “summer”, firstly because of school holidays and secondly for its importance in facilitating rains. But I stood firm on my favourite – the rainy season of course.

There’s something very unique and personal about everyone’s perception of rain. None of the other two seasons cause so many disruptions in our rigid, mundane routines. Even our surroundings seem to take on a new lease after the rains, sporting a new fresh and vibrant look. Getting to work late is actually acceptable because one has a good excuse. Umbrellas become the latest accessories and the raincoat, the in-fashion clothing.

This is the only season that affects all the five senses. Walk with me here:

Which is the best fragrance that a human nose can smell?
The smell of the soil after the first rains of the season.

Which is the most lovable sound to the ear?
The sound of rain droplets on a window pane, on a tin roof or in a lake.

And the best touch ever?
The feel of the rain trickling down on your hands from the spokes of the umbrella.

And which is the most wonderful sight?
The sight of a tall tree dancing to the tune of the drizzling rain and gusty wind.

What taste’s the best?
When it rains, just open your mouth and look up into the sky.

Do you know of any other season that could provide such joy and pleasure to all your senses? The summer and the winter are too harsh (especially our Nagpur version) to titillate the senses. And you cannot see, taste, hear or smell them. You can just feel them. And they can seem ‘good or bad’ subjectively.

There’s even a bit of spiritual potential to the rain. All spiritual science is predicated on controlling and focusing the senses. Rain teaches and enables the same. It demands so much out of you that you forget everything and just lose yourself in it. That’s a prime example of the bhakti rasa. The spirit of compassion, devotion and focused attention.

Rain overwhelms you. Can you imagine not talking of rain when it’s raining? Can you ignore the lightning and thunder that accompany it? How can you ignore it when it is drenching you without mercy? To me the unfettered impact of rain symbolises what means to be compassionate. Compassion is always all inclusive. And this is like the process of self-realisation. You focus all your senses on something, so much so that you are subsumed. And then when you have done this all that remains is your true “Self” and nothing else. No trappings, ego, niceties…nothing but the pure, essential You.

Whether you’re confused or highly particular, curiosity is a form of power. Use it.

What are you attracted to? Make a list.
Here’s mine. I’m attracted to, intrigued by, enamored with…

1. Pure rose oil, that’s so pure it’s peppery.
2. Kids.
3. People who are comfortable in silence.
4. Convents.
5. Old Egypt.
6. Word economy – saying a lot with a little.
7. Inquisitiveness!!!
8. People who are confrontational.
9. Old African men who smile with their eyes.
10. Scars.
11. Innovation.
12. Alleys.
13. Musicians who have never worked a day in their life.
14. Wealthy, self-made entrepreneurs who aren’t excessive.
15. Philanthropists.
16. The seering brilliance and heart of the TED talks.
17. Filthy at the end of the day construction workers.
18. Rothko paintings.
19. Elvis in 1969.
20. The greeny turquoise with brown flecks.
21. Cosmology.
22. Nests.
24. Gold. Can’t get too much gold.
25. Great teeth.
26. Text art.

What’s on your magnetism list? Now ask yourself what’s so interesting, or soothing, or sexy about the things that you gravitate towards. Go with the first thing that enters your mind, no matter how silly or grandiose it may seem.

I can see a pattern in my attractions: mystery, hard work, glamor, sacred devotion, currency, artistry. Sounds like the essential ingredients to the masterpiece I want to create, or my everyday my ideal life.

Being aware of not only what we are attracted to, but why we’re attracted to it, gives us access to the most tender and creative places within ourselves. If you put your finger on the magnetism, you can attract more of what you want into your life.

Dear Danielle at 20:
1.    Algebra really is useless.
2.    Credit cards are mostly evil.
3.    Talk is cheap.
4.    If he doesn’t stay until morning, he’s probably married or deeply insecure.
5.    There is no soul mate. I know, this is particularly hard news to take because you are longing for The One 24-7. But, guess what, The One is The One because you say he/she is. And that’s way more liberating and empowering than anything preordained or supposedly destined.
6.    And while we’re dissing cosmic romanticism – there’s no such thing as destiny. Life really is what you make it.
7.    Tragedy happens. Yes, everything happens for a reason, but life can be cruel and wrenching and while it all comes out in the cosmic wash, some souls collide and mistakes do happen.
8.    Louise Hay is a magnificent woman, but there is more to the machinations of life, illness, and cosmology than the simple explanations offered by You Can Heal Your Life. Cancer is not necessarily a result of repressed guilt, and you may not necessarily choose to heal your life this time around – that’s okay. Illness doesn’t make you a New Age Loser.
9.    Diplomacy is overrated.
10.    If your boss tries to french kiss you, it’s out of bounds.
11.    Only lend books if you don’t want them back.
12.    Go to more concerts.
13.    If you don’t kiss girls in your twenties, you’ll probably never get around to trying it out. You should try it out.
14.    You’re right – kindness is one of the most powerful natural resources there is…infinitely renewable.
15.    Your feelings are exceedingly more useful than your ability to rationalize your fears or other people’s poor behaviour.
16.    Your heart….your heart….your heart is where it’s at.
17.    When you turn 40, you shall be rocking like never before, grateful for absolutely everything, and you will finally, finally feel like earth is home….for the most part.

Yudishtir answers, “The greatest wonder is that although people see living beings die every day, they still try to live for ever”.

This was one statement that slapped me hard – all of us will die one day – we are not invincible. What would happen if suddenly we all knew the day we are destined to die? Would we conduct ourselves the way we do today? With this in mind, I have become more mindful, more introspective about living life fully and appreciating the gifts and challenges that are packaged as my karma.

As I wake up today, I promise to:
Enjoy the early morning chirping of birds, the dew in the leaves and the hum of an occasional insect.
Not to get angry or upset at anything.
Go for a walk and sweat for at least half an hour.
Be moderate in my eating.
Enjoy my breakfast as if it is my last meal.
Give my spouse and child a big hug before I leave to work and wish them a good day.
Greet the people in my office cheerfully starting from the doorman.
Adopt a 60/40 ratio between listening and speaking.
At work, plan the day and work the plan.
Call up a long forgotten friend or a relative and say, “Hello, it has been too long…”
In the evening, spend some time with my child and wife and ask them how the day went.
Switch the television off to chat and have dinner with my family.
Ponder over things that went wrong during the day.
Listen to some soulful music while reading a book before calling the day off.

Let me ‘live today and die another day’.

1. Rebecca Walker’s perspective on Chris Brown’s violent attack on Rhianna: “This is about relationships and what healthy ones look like,” she told ABC News. “It’s about intimacy and how little we, as a culture, know about cultivating and maintaining it. It’s about love, what it is, and what it isn’t.”

2. This Goddess of Design + Typography, Marian Bantjes.

3. That even though, after two years of breast feeding and 30-some (okay, almost 40) years of gravity, my husband still praises my ta-tas like they’re the holy fruit of life. Good man.

4. The pure, tar-like amber oil that Chantal in Albuquerque gets from the guy in Bali and send to me here in Vancouver. Makes me feel like someone really knows what my heart emits.

5. This quote from Clarissa Pinkola Estes, author of the monumental, Women Who Run With The Wolves, a book that that was like a hot house for my own blossoming: Each woman has potential access to Rio Abajo Rio, this river beneath the river. She arrives there through deep meditation, dance, writing, painting, prayer-making, singing, drumming, active imagination, or any activity which requires an intense altered consciousness. A woman arrives in this world-between worlds through yearning and by seeking something she can see just out of the corner of her eye. She arrives there by deeply creative acts, through intentional solitude, and by practice of any of the arts. And even with these well-crafted practices, much of what occurs in this ineffable world remains forever mysterious to us, for it breaks physical laws and rational laws as we know them.

Go to the river, sisters, and brothers. Go to the river.

Sai Baba is a controversial swami. I have right-minded friends who have witnessed him work miracles – or magic tricks as many others suspect. He is said to work his powers to manifest rings and bird eggs and gemstones from his palm. And, I think, why not? Our human perspective of dimensionality is only emerging, but certainly some know how to pierce the veil. I believe that instant material manifestation is possible, so why not Sai Baba?

But in addition to being praised for his powers, Sai Baba has been accused of being a sexual predator and a conman. And yet, just like the week I sat in his temple, there are thousands upon thousands of people – from curious spectators like me, to life-long devotees, who travel far to sit at his feet. They stay for weeks, sometimes years. Huge sloping white temples, a free hospital built in his name (people journey from as far as New Jersey for open heart surgery at no cost) a Sathya Sai Baba university. The place is impressively massive.

I wore frangipani flowers in my hair. 
I got up at 4 am to stand in line and hear the chants. I’m embarrassed to say I even wore a bindi dot (which is kind of like going to Jamaica and getting corn row braids on holiday – it’s lame). I chanted. I prayed. I meditated.

But, I was just not feeling the love. It was confusing my expectations of bliss. Clearly, I was not going to be saved on my trip to India.

No eye contact is allowed within the ashram walls. Imagine a bustling village without anyone really looking at each other. Men and women are kept separate within the temple. There is a lineup of hundreds of men, and a separate line up of hundreds of women. The old Indian mamas who were in charge of steering the herds of attendees were gruff. One of them snapped at me for looking at a man….and I wasn’t even lookin’, I swear.
By day three in swami land I had a wicked craving for a pack of smokes and The Pogues.

The whole scene felt rather joyless to me. And arrogant. Westerners in their new tunics all proud to be pious for three weeks out of the year. Of course, there were sweet moments – mostly with children and street peddlers, and I met some wonderful souls who were traveling the world asking big questions. But on the whole, I’ve felt more zest for life at a diner in Oklahoma.

There is place for piety, celibacy has its merits, and austerity can be hugely growthful. I get it. I understand the spiritual development purpose that such restraints are meant to serve. But if you’re so caught up in your dogma that you can’t feel sincerity when it pulls on your sari, that you can’t even laugh out loud, then what’s the point of devotion?

It was my first devotee bummer. My bindi dot had melted. We were in the exotic plains of India, with bowls of marigolds to scoop and sacred cows wandering free – thousands of us – supposedly gathered in the name of love and peace. But from my angle, many Baba worshipers were just as goo-goo-eyed and uptight as any God-fearing brimstone Baptist.

Too bad. I was really hoping for something more…magical.

What is the reach of such incidents? Everywhere possible – individually and collectively, physically and psychologically.

The Pearl Harbour incident was a turning point in World War II; it involved America and changed the equation of powers in the war. Miss Ayn Rand introduced communist policies in the American economy which altered the course of John Galt’s life, causing him to ‘stop’ the motor of the world. Turning points. They underscore the significance of the Law of Causality. They alter the course of a person’s life.

How? The tool is emotion. Did I say tool? ‘Weapon’ is a better description. Self realization is only achieved by making humane emotions instrumental. Joy, pity, love, hurt – they never miss the bull’s eye. They squarely hit the junction of the mind and heart: the soul. We all are victims of emotions – and turning points. Life changing experiences also take the form of people. Sometimes they leave after a season, and others, they are there to stay. Either way, they turn around one’s perception, wholly or partially. They add dimensions to the intellect, and vindicate the vision.

What are the lessons they teach you? Unfathomable. How many? Unfathomable again. Consciousness of dreams, ambition, direction, self worth – facets that constitute a major portion of the self are attributed to them. Every smile of pride, contentment, serenity is accompanied by a thought reminiscent of them.

I have my own turning phase – exclusively mine, without any need of a copyright. It made me myself. I gained insight because it happened. I smile when I think of it. Sometimes it wets my eyes. This is what my life turner does to me. It owns me, I own it and I owe it – my life.

Think back about your life turning phase, and the whole era seems as if it were meant to happen, to complete your being, to make it one whole. So natural, as if somewhere deep down you always knew it would occur, though before it took place you could never dream about the form in which it confronted you.

Anybody who senses a chunk missing from life, they only have to look sideways. One of those turns is the one that will flip life around. It will come, because there is no choice, no chance of missing it; it is meant to come. The only alternative is to shut the eyes.

When time is not a parameter, every life is larger than the rest of the world put together. The spell is willingness. Part the curtains, tug at the clouds and look around, see – that is your life changing experience, your turning point!

Bob Dylan’s masterpiece protest song has always among her favourites, even in its many incarnations around the world. This morning the lyrics came quietly to her as she contemplated a snapshot of today’s screaming media headlines: “12 MEXICAN AGENTS TORTURED AND SLAIN; CLASHES KILL DOZENS IN SOMALIA; DEATH TOLL IN CHINA RIOTS RISE TO 192; SUDANESE WOMAN FLOGGED FOR WEARING PANTS.” There were many more but she was too shellshocked to delve much further. It is not that she has not seen similar headlines over the years — it is just that today something in her shut down emotionally. She couldn’t click into the usual mode of assimilating the desperation and repressed rage that ignite these events around the world.

The danse macabre was too much to bear.

For one fleeting minute, her somber appraisal of the human condition led her past the simplistic existentialist explanations and into a contemplation of a larger, cosmic evil as proposed by the Christian and Islamic fundamentalists. Maybe Man is really a puppet being controlled by negative elements through his repressed subconscious mind. For a few minutes it seemed to make sense.

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there.

She pondered the quotation by the Sufi poet Rumi. Maybe this anguish is karmic retribution being played out in a cosmic game that wasn’t meant to be understood by finite minds? Maybe we are not meant to know the answers or pass judgment on that game — God’s lila — because we are only half-awake in a transient, ever-changing world?

But she did not dwell there very long; her spirit felt violated by the abrasiveness of linear thinking.

She laid down her sword of prose for a while and went into the silence of herself. Today she could find no solace as the self-righteous blogger writing up a storm of protest against man’s inhumanity to man. She couldn’t even muster up the idealism to wax satirical about mankind’s rapid descent into barbarism. Her spirit was tired and she felt hopeless. Maybe the gentle, peace-inspired poet whom she buried years ago in her heart is being reborn to replace of the battle-worn scribe — the voice in the wilderness no one wants to hear anymore.

The realisation finally dawned after years of searching…. very few people really care about this world or welfare of downtrodden and impoverished beings. They are too busy trying to survive themselves or too infatuated with the palliates of self-indulgent sensory pleasures. Today that realisation finally hit home, like a hammer on a tiny, fluttering butterfly.

Now she is all cried out.

Her inner self searches for quiet detachment amidst the rubble of a futile quest for peace and justice for all. There is nothing left to say. She wants to ask a thousand questions starting with “Why….” but there are no answers to be found anywhere — just the angst and hopelessness woven into the age-old drama human beings call life.

Tomorrow she’ll be back on the road again throwing words at the wind. But tonight she is listening to the silence in herself. The silence whispers softly and she is weary.

How many years can a mountain exist
Before it’s washed to the sea?
Yes, and how many years can some people exist
Before they’re allowed to be free?
Yes, and how many times can a man turn his head,
Pretending he just doesn’t see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind,
The answer is blowin’ in the wind….

In my case I received a series of what might be called mild ‘attacks’ on my point of view (God is just a belief system), only one of which is posted on the site. The remainder were sent directly to me. Rather than be incensed as to why someone would dare to disagree with my point of view I began thinking and formulating a list of my own questions:

Did those commenting have the same viewpoint as myself regarding the questions? After all when we look at house property details we can all see different things when we look at a house from different directions.

Were comments coloured by beliefs themselves? Do readers and listeners filter what they want to see and hear according to their belief systems? Did readers see the set of questions simply as an argument for or against God?

Were those commenting actually aware of the context in which those in charge of the website formulated the questions or the context in which people answered them? Were the questions a starting point for debate or simply an excuse for a soapbox? Nobody knows.

As consultants, teachers, trainers or coaches we tend to base our approaches on sets of questions which provide a basis on which to work. How many people jump to conclusions based on these questions and how many use them to create a picture and then dig some more? A good listener does not let their own beliefs get in the way, nor do they jump to conclusions or pass judgement. We have all seen the consultant who is really just a man on a soapbox.

The point here is to look beyond the interview, read between the lines both when you are asking questions and when someone else is asking.

• Why are these questions being asked?
• What information/emotions are they designed to tease out?
• Am I biased in any way?
• Will I like the answers?
• What can I learn from this experience (will this change my point of view)?

There are others, but you get the idea. Don’t take everything at face value, be prepared to interpret and look beyond the obvious. Communication is based on message and meaning. Modern communication methods ensure that we usually get the message but they tend to help us to ignore meaning.

… and for the record, I answered the questions as if I were taking a psychometric test (read and answer in a short space of time) rather than using them as a springboard for an anti/pro God argument. This does mean that there could be one or two inconsistencies but knowing this, readers should be able to find out a bit about me and engage in a (friendly) debate down the pub.

Love gets buried beneath political correctness and spirituality; behind “I” statements and neutrality; tradition, company policy, apparently healthy boundaries and self protection; and commonsense. The understandable, habitual structures of thought that keep our egos from being derailed can effectively keep love on the other side of the tracks.

Maybe before we cross-check ourselves against the rules and what’s familiar and acceptable, we should root ourselves down into a more elegant measurement of behavior: What would Love do? It’s a question that burns away the mist and the noise. It stops clocks. What would Love do? Even cynics have to pause. You can say that love doesn’t have a place in court or international relations or economics. But Love isn’t stupid.

And Love isn’t blind. She isn’t a push over. When you make Love the first priority you’re taking your place in true power. When you Love yourself first, you can balance the scales. Love knows what harmony feels like, and doesn’t care so much what it looks like on the outside, or to others. She is centered and inclusive. Love is frequently dignified — unless she’s required to flip her lid. He is gentle and strong. He bends — unless what’s best is to digs his heels in. She rewards. He comforts. He strikes. She waits. He speaks. She is silent.

So try it out. It may feel awkward. Before a big meeting, when you’re shopping, before you dump the chump, when it seems clear that the only game to play is hardball, ask, “What would love do?” Love may still choose to play hardball — “ruthless” and “loving” are not mutually exclusive terms — and we should know that if we are going to make any progress at all. Love may make demands. Love may crumble in apology, love may weep with humility and grace. She may run into burning buildings. He may genuflect.

Love knows what’s best for every situation.
Love transcends policy and history.
Love innovates.
Love is everything we’ve been asking for.

Over the years, that desire has led me to develop a system of getting personal with that greater power: we write to each other.

It’s not about multiple personalities or alternate realities. It’s about plugging in and tuning the dial. It’s about the collective subconscious and direct connection to the Source.

It’s worth a try, right?

My reasoning goes something like this: If I assume that I am part of the infinity that’s overseen and coordinated by a beneficent power greater than myself, then I am, in a sense, talking to a part of myself when I enter into conversation. (Stay with me here). In other words, there’s wisdom in me that is also beyond me, and by writing out conversations, I’ve found that something happens between the me that I live with every day (Me) and what I often think of as the Über-Manager, or the Universe. I call It “U” for short.

I am able to locate a rich, deep, astonishing vein of wisdom that invariably causes me to grow in the direction of health and hope. I write these conversations out by hand. The faster I write, the more I learn. The longer I write, the more I learn.

Here’s a short example, culled from my journals:

Me: What will help me today to be easier and more comfortable in my relationship with T?

U: Biggest things: restraint and acceptance. Plus, it’s been a while since you practiced your humour skills. And, as always and above all, focus exclusively on your own joy, even if that means thus choosing not to be around T.

Me: Sum it up, would you, for my easy remembering?

U: Court your own joy. Let him be as he is. Practice humour.
Me: Thank you. Thank you.

What is God?
Sanjiv: God is a creation of early human beings from a time when there were no explanations for natural phenomena. Many millennia ago, cave dwellers would have seen natural phenomena occurring around them ranging from childbirth, the sun rising and setting, the moon in its various phases, floods, rain, the constant appearance of strange animals, edible fruit growing at certain places, snow, the oceans, seeds becoming trees and a whole host of similar ‘magical’ things. When they could not explain why such things happened, some probably started attributing these phenomena to a superior being somewhere high up in the skies. This was probably the origin of God. As humankind started to become more social in their tribal behavior, some smarter ones took to calling these superior beings “gods” of various natural phenomena. They also hit upon a terrific business idea to keep themselves in food, comfort and awe by creating practices they claimed to have learnt directly from these so-called gods, to appease them and to ensure peace and happiness within the community. These smart people probably became the first priests who claimed that they could direct the rest of the tribe in performing rituals and sacrifices to ensure that the gods remained happy.

God or the Big Bang (or both)?
Sanjiv: Based on current scientific knowledge, obviously the Big Bang. If there were nothing before God created the universe, who created God?

God or Darwin (or both)?
Sanjiv: Based on current scientific knowledge, Darwin was probably closer to the truth than some imaginary “Creator”.

God or Darfur ? (How can Darfur happen if there is God?)
Sanjiv: This is a pointless question as we have already accepted that God does not exist!

Who is God’s God?
Sanjiv: Already responded this question in answer “2” above. So this is also a pointless question as we have already accepted that God does not exist!

Will the real God please stand up? (Why do we have so many religions?)
Sanjiv: Where there are different groups of people, there will be different customs and each group will have its own power centres. If one group’s power centre feels that another group is not following the same customs that their group has adopted, then they feel their power is threatened and declare that all those who do not follow these customs are outcasts and therefore enemies. That is why we have the different religions.

Is this just a big lab and are we just guinea pigs and God just a researcher?
Sanjiv: This is an interesting question if we remove the term ‘God’ from it. Since we really know so little of what is out there in the vast universe, the probability that our planet is an experiment in the laboratory of some far superior race from somewhere in the universe is about as high or as low as the probability that God exists!

Unexplained phenomena = God?
Sanjiv: As far as prehistoric man was concerned, yes. That was the origin of the God delusion. But why human beings still cling to this delusion when almost all of mankind has now accepted scientifically predictable explanations for a whole load of previously unexplained phenomena is beyond me!

What is God?
Sundar: Are we asking – What is God or Who is God? Please read my answer to this question at the end of this questionnaire.

God or the Big Bang (or both)?
Sundar: When it comes to creation, then God is not the Creator in a sense, in that he is different from what is created. If we think that curd is created out of milk, then we will have to ask where does the milk come from and so on and so forth. But look at it like this, if both the milk and the curd are the same thing and only our perception makes this difference, then the concept of creation has disappeared. Our perceptions of different things come because of the concept of time. This takes us to the question, what is time? The facilitating “ability” which has made us see milk, and then curd is time. And, time could not exist if we could not have that consciousness. What then is that consciousness? It is our awareness…. so it is our awareness that has made us see curd as curd and milk as milk, and the mechanism inside us, which has prompted us to believe that curd has come out of milk, so creation is our mind’s manipulation.

God or Darwin (or both)?
Sundar: Evolution is also a phenomenon born of our of time and its perception.

God or Darfur ? (How can Darfur happen if there is God?)
Sundar: I think, we are too serious. We detest certain things, because we feel guilty about certain activities because of ego promptings. Humanitarianism seems like the offshoot of egoistic values, in the sense that it is rooted in man-made morals and judgment of ‘good or bad.’ If we are not going to be too serious about being alive, then the whole perspective on situations like Darfur will change.

Who is God’s God?
Sundar: God cannot have a beginning or an end, because time is an illusion.

Will the real God please stand up? (Why do we have so many religions?)
Sundar: The world’s religions do not really focus on God. If you want to realize God, then philosophy is a better place to find inspiration. Religions are made for the purpose of moral policing and to bring in some discipline to society. Some of the religions introduce people to philosophy and to the real questions, but many are institutions.

Is this just a big lab and are we just guinea pigs and God just a researcher?
Sundar: This is also a perception. If God is omniscient, then what will He learn from this experiment? No, this is not a lab and nobody is watching us.

Unexplained phenomena = God?
Sundar: No, unexplained means that those “unexplored” facets of existence are simply unexplained and nothing more. Once you start explaining the unexplained, your knowledge base increases, and the increase in knowledge base will lead to further questions which cannot be unexplained. Therefore there will always be a set of things which will remain ‘unexplained’ and this could be used by religious leaders to exploit the masses. On the other hand, the ‘unexplained’ is the stimulant for us to investigate further and it keeps alive our interest in the world.

Now coming back to our original question: What is God, or Who is God? These religious ‘gods’ are created to discipline and control. They are man-made with a mundane purpose. If we could go a little further in our discussion we could find God as an omnipresent, omniscient and omnipotent phenomenon, in which case, there is nothing external to GOD, therefore the creator, creation and the act of creating is God; the seer, the seen and the process of seeing is also God and so on.

Starting from the crowded marina and Eliot’s Beach to the less crowded and secluded ones that dot the East Coast Road (or ECR as it is called), I have always found my visits to be a learning and inspiring experience.

Every one of my visits thus far, has revealed new concepts in management and new ways of looking at life.

I am always amazed by the waves continuously beating the land and threatening to envelop it – with occasional success in the form of a tsunami. The unswerving perseverance of the waves is one admirable quality that any manager would wish to have along the obstacle path we call marketing in the world of business.

Sometimes one gets to see catamarans and the fishing trawlers venturing in or out of the sea. The persistence of the men who can outmaneuver the mighty power of the waves and still keep moving forward is another example in perseverance worthy of emulation.

In the crowded sections, one can often see the excited faces of children holding their parents’ hands while standing at the water’s edge waiting for the angry waves to splash and scatter their foamy surf. The trust of the onlooking child who knows that the firm grip of a parent’s hand will keep him securely anchored to the shore during this awesome experience, reminds me of the relationship that should exist between a subordinate and a boss.

And looking at the people taking their walk, oblivious to what is happening around them illustrates that we must be mindful at all times that “our health is our wealth” regardless of what is being demanded of us by others.

Last but not least – the joy of sitting silently at the water’s edge – simply looking at the magnificent ocean with its roaring waves puts us into an introspective mode. A mood that is necessary for objective self-evaluation and re-prioritizing our personal and professional goals.

With my frequent trips to the beach, and the inspiration gleaned, my wife may have justification to begin commenting on my new role as a thinker and philosopher. Move over Socrates here I come!

Pushing maintains the swirl. Sometimes, what’s out of sight and zooming toward you isn’t quite here yet. A leap in another direction doesn’t always land you in a more findable spot.

Waiting may be the quickest way to get somewhere.

How do you know which tack to take? Push or wait? If pushing makes you hyperventilate, makes your eyes bug out with effort, then maybe you’re pushing against yourself rather than anything that’s actually in your way.

If you think you’ve done everything right, but there’s still no reward, try waiting. Even for a little while.

Now and then, allow yourself be the target, not the arrow.

If you’re wondering why you have been overlooked by the gods, consider the possibility that they can’t pinpoint your location through all the dust you’re kicking up as you flail.

Take a deep breath. Sit down. Be quiet. Sip your tea.

Photo: Sleepy Buddha by Silvio Tanaka

“Hey mom,” he said, waiting for me to go on.

“Hello baby,” I said, cooing into the phone like any devoted mother.

“School was good today,” he said, anticipating the usual question.

“Okay, take a rest, make sure you eat something and then do your homework. I will be back around 7 o’clock,” I said.

“Right mom and then I shall watch television …okay bye.” Over and out.

There was nothing different in the call today and there will probably be only a slight variation in the next few days. Yet if this two minute call did not happen on a school day, I found it unsettling. The same questions, the same re-assurance, the same information….why?

I could not get myself to walk back to my desk and instead went to get some coffee. With my nice, warm coffee mug, I walked along the office lawns thinking about this daily ritual. It did take me on a guilt trip, the ones that working mothers often go through but then I checked myself and focused on the core concern – namely, what does this call mean to me and to my son?

The more I thought about the situation the more I seemed to look for “reasons and causes” and probable “solutions”. It was then that it dawned on me that every task, every action, every simple thing of routine life becomes a subject of scrutiny in a working mother’s life. It is one of the disadvantages of an extended corporate career!

As I relished the last few sips of my refreshing brew I told myself in very simple terms that I enjoy that call because I am a mother who wants to talk to her son and be a part of his life. It would have been easier if I were home and we could have a longer, livelier conversation but that’s no excuse for not having a two minute chat at all. That settled the question about me so then I picked up the phone and asked my son about this daily call routine.

He answered in a very innocent manner, “Mom, I feel special when we chat, because I know you are waiting for my call in your office.” That did it – the call was important to me because I was a mother of a ten year old who was special and felt special.

Natural bonding does not need justification or rationalization or statistical evidence!

As I finished my coffee, and I walked back to leave the used mug in the pantry, I could not help but smile at myself as another thought tempted me to enjoy a second cup of coffee. But I restrained myself. However, I made a mental note to ask my ‘stay at home’ friends whether they would have worried so much about this trivial thought that kept me busy at work today or would their question have changed to the more basic one such as, “Am I a nagging mom? ”

The phone rang again and this time it was the boss with an easy to answer question, “Have you finished the report yet?”

“Yes Sir,” I replied, and life was back to normal once again.

For many years, evolutionists have tried very hard, often resorting to imaginative concepts, conjecture and assumptions to prove their point.

Let us take a look at the basis of the evolution theory and let the logical thinking person decide if it is even remotely scientific! The theory postulates that billions of years ago, there was a Big Bang and non-living things over a long period of time became living things. Does that sound logical to you – that masses of unaccountable atoms of gases violently “kissed” each other in a Big Bang and non-living things turned into frogs, princes, princesses, kings and queens. It comes across more like a fairy tale than science!

Furthermore, the theory of evolution teaches this: Some 15 billion years ago (actually it ranges from 13.7 to 15 billion years), there was a Big Bang involving hydrogen and helium gases. After this Big Bang, for 400 million years or so, the agitated atoms of these gases expanded in all directions. Galaxies and planets began to form, and that was the beginning of the universe. The cooling period apparently took 200 million years. Then the earth was formed some 4.5 billion years ago.

At the beginning, there was no living thing on earth at all. Then some 3.8 billion years ago, a single living cell emerged and from that one cell, over a long period of time, millions of simple and complex species were generated. Antelopes evolved to become giraffes because of their constant stretching for leaves on tall trees. Bears became whales because they kept jumping into the water for food. Then some 56 million years ago, monkeys emerged and 21 million years later, apes evolved from monkeys and then humans came into the picture 1.64 million years ago.

Does that sound like science to you?

There are many unanswered questions for this theory:

Where did the gases come from?
How on earth do we know there was actually a Big Bang?
What scientific evidence is there to support this theory about a phenomenon which supposedly started billions of years ago?
If antelopes evolved into giraffes, bears into whales, monkeys to apes, apes to humans, why do we still have these animals in their own forms and none in the “intermediate” form? Do you see any half- ape, half- human walking around, apart from on the movie set?

Someone once illustrated it this way. He took a common ball point pen and started breaking it up into its parts – the body, the spring inside, the ink holder, etc. He then put all the parts into an empty box and started shaking the box. After some time, he asked the audience, “What do you think are the chances that, when I opened this box, you will see a perfectly assembled ball point pen?” You and I know the odds are almost nil; how much more unlikely that a perfectly formed human body or any other element of nature – a flower, tree or animal – came about from an accidental Big Bang?

To me, the theory of evolution is the greatest hoax in history and it’s time we stop teaching this fairy tale to our children as science.

Who is God?

If you ask me or any Christian about the origins of the universe, our answer will be, “God created it.” Then you may ask about the origins of God and the answer will be, “Nobody, because God is self-existing simply because He is God.”

Whether you agree with these answers or not is irrelevant, because the point is: the issue is now brought to a conclusion.

Let’s compare this to the evolution theory. If we ask, “How did the universe came into being?” the evolutionist may reply, “There was a Big Bang of the atoms from the hydrogen and helium gases.”

Then we ask, “Who created the hydrogen and helium?” and he may reply, “They were just there.”

But if we pursue the matter further and insist, “How could that be? You are supposed to get to the source or origin. Who created the gases?”

Then the evolutionist may have to say, “I guess they are also self-existing.”

Now we are all on the same level playing field. I believe that God is self-existing because he is God, but you believe that gases are self-existing. So really the choice presented to any seeker is whether it is more logical to believe that God is self-existing or gases are self-existing, whether God created all things or uncreated chemicals evolved into all beings.

The God that I believe in is the God of the Holy Bible. According to Genesis, the first book in the Bible, God spoke, “Let there be light,” and there was light. Now this light is not merely the sunlight which actually came about on the fourth day. This light is pure energy, the life force of God which came from His breath and spoken word. This is the fundamental creative force of all things and only the Bible gives this information. Without this energy force, nothing else can be created. And science supports this as it has been proven that every matter has energy.

The computer you are touching now is not what it appears to be. If you put it under the microscope, you will see numerous atoms rushing around at top speed, not visible to the naked eye. It is so filled with energy that if you can tap into its power, the energy that is locked in this piece of hardware in front of you, can drive a train for many miles. In fact, physicists have discovered that an atom is composed of more elementary subatomic particles (electrons, protons, neutrons, etc) and they are all impregnated with energy. Quantum physics has discovered that matter is 99.9999999% empty!

Our sight and hearing are made possible because of energy waves. These are light and sound waves that come into contact with our sensory faculties.

According to the Bible, it is in God that we move, and live, and have our being. All the energy comes from Him and even a strand of our hair contains energy.

Next, consider the logical process of creation. After light or pure energy was created, God created space. There is no other literature in the world where you can find the origin of space, except in the Bible.

I urge you to read the creation account in the first chapter of Genesis for yourself, and you will no doubt, concur that it is only logical to believe a personal God created everything. You will also conclude that it is indeed absurd to believe that this entire universe, in all its complexity, can come about by pure chance, all by itself and without a Designer!

Answered with help and permission from Pastor Rony Tan’s book on “Questions on Genesis.” www.lighthouse.org.sg

One of them, I remember well is about trees and their large bigheartedness! A similar story is currently circulating on the net but here is how I remember the one told to me.

Once upon a time, there was a very young boy, who used to love spending time playing with his toys. His favourite playing place was under a full grown, fruit bearing tree.

In time, the tree and the boy became talking companions.

One day the little boy got bored and told to the tree, “I am bored – I have played with these toys too many times!”

The tree replied, “OK, don’t dismay, you can climb up on me and play on my branches.”

The boy was very happy with this suggestion and sure enough he started having a lot of fun climbing and sitting high up on the branches of the tree.
We have all done that as kids, haven’t we ?

One day he started school and for a long time he did not come to play under the tree. After some time had passed however, he came back to the tree. His old companion was overjoyed to see him and the tree encouraged him to climb on but the child refused!
“My school clothes are going to get dirty if I climb up on you,” complained the child!

The tree thought for a while and said, “OK, don’t worry. Go, bring a rope and tie it to one of my branches and you can enjoy a swing.”

The boy liked that idea and he quickly slung a swing as directed. He come back to play with his new toy every day, swinging lazily at times but aggressively on occasions when he was in an upbeat mood! The branch on which the swing was slung took the load without complaint. The damage that resulted from the constant friction and rub were also borne gracefully and quietly by the faithful tree. During summers, when the heat became unbearable, the tree would tell him to rest in its shade as well. The boy would lie down and rest there, to beat the sweltering heat.
Time progressed and the boy soon outgrew the swing and discarded it.
As he got older and moved on to college, times became harder on him. He had almost forgotten about the tree because he was preoccupied with his studies. As a struggling student he ran short of food very often.
One day he went back to the tree after a long time. The tree recognized him immediately and welcomed him.
The boy happened to be hungry and complained to the tree, “I do not have any food to eat, my stomach is cramping with hunger.”
The tree smiled and said, “Pull down my branches, pluck off some fruit, and fill yourself up.”
The young man, without batting an eyelid, jumped up and tore off one of the smaller branches from the trunk!
He ate and ate to his fill.
He did not stop there.
Over the weeks, he tore off all the branches and ate all the fruit.
After the fruit had all gone and the tree was left barren, he went away and did not come back to the tree as he thought it had nothing else to give him.

With time, when he reached his middle age, he came back to the tree and said: “I have been very successful in life. I have earned a lot of money, I have a huge house and I have found a great wife. Now I feel I need to travel and see the world.”

The tree by was now quite old and was not fruit bearing any more but still wanted to help its long time companion. The old tree told him, “Don’t worry. Bring a saw, cut off my trunk and make a boat out of it. Then launch that boat into the ocean and set sail with your wife to see the wonders of the world. Do that! ”

Without an iota of hesitation, the man cut down the tree. Branch by branch.
He began making the boat to sail away with his wife. He made it by cutting not one but all the branches and the trunk as well. As soon as he was finished, he set sail with his pretty wife in tow.
All that now remained of that glorious tree, once the boat was gone, was a stump. With time

An opportunity (relating to material world) comes one’s way in normal course without any effort or initiative.  One starts pursuing the opportunity and soon the door is closed.  What is the teaching in this?

The question refers to a pursuit that did not bring the desired result. Interestingly, the pursuit began when an opportunity one was not looking for on the conscious plane surfaced rather suddenly all by itself. It led to a certain involvement that eventually petered out into nothing. Naturally, the questioner is wondering as to why such a thing happened.

It is a very genuine query, which, I feel, everyone, specially a seeker, must contemplate. Here are the thoughts that arose within me out of my contemplation.

Why do things happen the way they happen?

In spirituality, there is an undisputed rule about life. Expected or otherwise, the things that happen to us in our in lives are those that we have sought for ourselves at the level of the mind, a repository of our karmas.

The sub-conscious mind and how it controls us

We are normally barely aware of what goes on the surface of the mind. Yet, the mind is very huge and can be compared to an iceberg. What lies below the surface is much more than what is visible. We normal refer to this hidden area, below the surface, as the subconscious mind. This area holds impressions of all kinds of unfinished businesses, through our present and earlier lifetimes. Though apparently dormant, these impressions are at work. They keep transmitting their signals and continue to attract those forces of nature that will bring life’s hidden agenda to fruition. This is how the subconscious mind determines our life, without giving us any hint of what it is doing. We are held hostage to what lies at the subliminal level of the mind.

We can acquire freedom from the machinations of these latent impressions in two ways alone – by not resisting change and by intelligent interference.

The choice of resisting  vs not-resisting the subconscious

The uninitiated or the ignorant have no option in the matter. They succumb to whatever the latent impressions bring up.  So, things and events materialize and fructify in the normal course. This eventually starts lightening the carried forward baggage of the sub-conscious mind.

However, those who are initiated have two options. The first option is of intelligent interference. So, one chooses not to invite or fight any particular latent impressions. He does not bother about any opportunity, pursued successfully or otherwise. He simply intensifies his sadhana so that he can burn latent impressions in the fire of yoga so that in-process karmas can be avoided. Such a person, when he has sufficiently evolved, reaches a state of choicelessness. Then he does not seek or shun anything. He simply witnesses what is happening. He has become Shiva himself.
 
Exploring the sub-conscious mind in meditation to make the transition from the unconscious to the conscious

The mind, below the surface, is the ‘chain’ that is holding us back from liberation. We are not aware of it primarily because we are mostly caught up on the surface. When we begin to meditate, we start this journey within. Then we begin to explore these hidden or deeper areas of the mind.
 
No wonder, each one of us, after he has started meditating, begins to discover new dimensions. Hidden possibilities, totally new traits, and fresh talents begin to sprout. In this journey, quite often, a meditator also starts noticing sprouting of even unsavoury things — anger, selfishness, cowardliness, depravity in sex, or some follies.

Self-exploration is like a massive churner that first sets loose and then churns out everything, precious or base. It allows all impressions to travel from the subconscious to the conscious areas of the mind.

When they come up in the field of vision of the conscious mind, one’s consciousness is coloured by them. Certain things may be very pleasing while others may be quite unpalatable. The key is to become a witness. If a person simply witnesses these impressions, they surface into the region of the conscious mind and are purged out.

Yet, it is part of the healing process, whereby the subconscious mind is being set free of all entanglements, hidden or otherwise. One starts becoming free.

Reacting to the sub-conscious mind

Here we must understand that in so far as its events are concerned, life is governed by a higher intelligence that a limited mind cannot probe. Here it must be understood that a limited mind is engaged with ‘BECOMING’, while the empty mind is established in ‘BEING’ (absorbed completely in pure awareness). Being is elusive. We touch this state each night in deep sleep but we don’t know it because our awareness is shut. Hence, to make the transition to ‘being’ we must first be fully established in ‘becoming’.

Futile pursuits (or even fruitful pursuits) are necessary tools used by life to educate us in our evolution. Sometimes, a futile pursuit may be sent into our lives to help us learn and inculcate the virtues of planning, focus, and execution. An improvement in these areas will help us when the next opportunity comes our way. In a way, this is to strengthen the ‘BECOMING’ in a positive way. Only when becoming is strengthened sufficiently, it will be possible for one to realize its futility.

Therefore, a futile pursuit may be sent into the life of a sufficiently evolved person to teach him about something still higher – the futility of all pursuits. This may engineer the final letting go – the leap into ‘BEING’. This may lead to complete surrender to the divine will, where one is living in perfect choicelessness. He does no do anything on his own. He merely participates in what is happening around him. 
 
Each one has to contemplate what the happenings in his or her life (including futile pursuits) are indicating to him.

For the sadhaka the choice is one of sadhana. This alone will take him across.

–

Brahmaprakash Gaur belongs to the Indian Revenue Service and is currently posted as Chief Commissioner of income-tax, Mumbai, India. He met his spiritual Master, Gurumayi Swami Chidvilasananda, in 1989 and has been meditating since then. Contact him at b_gaur@hotmail.com.

The teaching sessions at the ashram went off quite smoothly. I grew in confidence. Within the next one year, I started introducing meditation to my office colleagues (at Mumbai, India). This brush with the energies of group meditations has been quite rewarding.

In 1991, my office had a group of 40 odd female staff members, pursuing spiritual practices. They had the same guru. Bound by this fellowship, they would get together in the office every day during lunch recess to study scriptures and to meditate. Once or twice, I joined their sessions and they did mine. Then the requirements of work took me away from Mumbai. The contact was severed.

I returned to Mumbai about a year back. One day, I happened to meet one of these ladies at the office. She filled me in on her group. The guru had passed away and was no longer there in the physical body to guide them. Several members of the group, including the one who led them, had retired from service. Some members had been transferred to work at offices in other locations within Mumbai. These developments had forced abandonment of the daily satsang. Yet, the group had largely remained cohesive. Those members, who could, met for four-five hours of practices one Saturday each month at some convenient place.

My contact with the group having been renewed, soon they invited me to lead them into meditation at a get-together they had organized within the office. It was nice to meet them. A few months later, once again they invited me in. This time, I encouraged them to speak about issues relevant to their sadhana. We dealt with several questions. How did they feel about their sadhana? Where did they think it was leading them? What issues they felt they had to work on? How to evaluate the inner work, carried on by the awakened energy? How to deal with the physical absence of the guru? And so on………

Very soon it became apparent what was a significant issue with many. They were being bogged down by unwarranted judgment about how little sadhana had done to them in helping them get rid of undesirable thoughts or habit patterns. Just because they were focused elsewhere in areas of want, they were overlooking the wonderful transformation that was all too evident in their lives and did indicate great progress through inner work.
In the course of discussion, I was the facilitator allowing them to change focus to look for and appreciate the positives. Gradually, the result was obvious. Their general demeanour began to change perceptibly. Faces began to lighten up more and more with hope and self-belief.  This discussion had consumed considerable time. So, I suggested that we had had a “discussion satsang” and we could call it a day.

However, the ladies weren’t ready to forego meditation. Looking for a swift way out, I thought I would give them a short visualization for healing and be done with it. I began giving instructions accordingly, beginning with a breath awareness induced limb by limb relaxation starting from toes upwards. I was half way through, when I began to feel a great build-up of energy within. It started taking hold of me. The instructions, I was giving thus far, had to stop.

A few seconds later, a suggestion for a different kind of concentration and meditation began to take shape within me. It was about meditation on the guru’s form (by identifying one’s body with that of the guru). Instructions began to form in my mind spontaneously. I went ahead with the flow and started articulating whatever came up.
It began with the awareness of the toes. There was silent repetition of the mantra “Om guru Om” with the suggestion that the toes were no longer ours but those of the guru. Limb by limb this visualization was carried forward with silent repetition of the mantra. Eventually, we reached the crown of the head.

Normally, I would have stopped at that and would have let the ladies meditate on the inner silence arising out of this identification with the guru’s form. But, this did not happen.

New instructions began to come forth. These were about visualization of a very private and intimate meeting with the guru, seated comfortably on a lovely chair in the cave of the heart. Everyone was taken through the steps of this process slowly – welcoming the guru, seating the guru in the chair, offering their most loving service to the guru, and sharing with the guru their innermost feelings and gratitude. Each one was asked to sit in silence and listen if the guru had any words of advice, instruction and benediction; and, let the words sink in.

Perhaps at this point the instructions stopped. We were in an office hall. There was some loud conversation outside. But, a pool of silence had engulfed all of us. We sat quietly, each one deeply absorbed in the company of the inner guru.

After a while, I began to guide every one into regaining consciousness of their bodies and the outside world. I looked at my watch. More than 45 minutes had passed since we started the meditation. Even after everyone had opened their eyes, a curtain of silence hung over us. No one was willing to speak. It took quite a while before we spoke out.

This experience was a strong reminder to me of how the inner guru guides from within. My ‘limited’ mind had conjured up a concept of the meditation I needed to give those ladies that day. Obviously, the inner guru thought otherwise. He acted decisively and with grace, compelling me to fall in line and change course. What eventually took place was hugely more enjoyable. The guru had used me as an instrument. What a splendid blow to any sense of doership that I might have had.

There was another teaching that came to me strongly from this experience. I had gone to these ladies as a ‘teacher’ – ‘somebody’ who would help them ‘receive’ ‘something’ but it their love for spiritual life, simplicity, purity and receptivity that largely engineered the experience that had befallen me.

And, lo and behold, the teacher became the taught.

Ladies! My heartfelt salutations to each one of you!!

This is the greatness of satsang. It allows one to discover his or her better part in the most inscrutable ways.

–

Brahmaprakash Gaur belongs to the Indian Revenue Service and is currently posted as Chief Commissioner of income-tax, Mumbai, India. He met his spiritual Master, Gurumayi Swami Chidvilasananda, in 1989 and has been meditating since then. Contact him at b_gaur@hotmail.com.

You would of course say “alive”. Truly you would say I am asking a pointless and silly question. Very well, then would you explain to me why nobody could find time to visit Mr. X when he was alive but all turned out to pay him “respect”(sic) when he finally called it a day? Am I being silly then?  Now my own time is not too far off. I was reflecting on my own life. I did the unpardonable by living by my principles and whims instead of the community’s and was rather stark in my annoyance if anyone crossed the line beyond reasonable limits. So today I have the pleasure of rarely receiving anyone from the family; even the ones who found me “super” when younger. They remember my indiscretions, my frank and outgoing speeches and think I am best kept at a distance which suits me fine (I suppose they are afraid I will contaminate the minds of their children).

The other day I was talking to my wife on this subject and I told her when my time comes would she have the guts to ask people to leave me alone in death as they had done in life? I would definitely want it so.

I do wonder why we give so much importance to death and make it such a grim and sad affair. After all, the departed one could not care less and he could be in no way sad about the turn of events. There is this uppermost enigma in my mind as to why we reserve the eulogizing for the dead while the living ones get all the contemptuous glances and more? There is no love lost before death and after it there is nothing but it. If anyone is looking for proof of the basic elemental dishonesty in human nature one has to simply visit a wake. All their lives those who were dying to hear a kind word have to literally die to hear one!

My father was an intellectual and although he loved the company of his friends and family and could easily become the life of the party, he was by virtue of his hobbies and activities happy to be left alone too. When he was younger he was the best placed in the family and helped all his younger brothers to get placed and sisters married off. In time the brothers established themselves and had families and responsibilities of their own. Time for gathering around my father shrank from days to hours and then to minutes to less and less and by the time he was sixty very few had any time to visit him until and unless they had a problem only his genius could solve. My own bent of spirit is a little on the philosophical side and I took after him in more ways than one and I can say he was proud of me and contented enough to see me doing as well as he had done. 

I have always made an effort to find time to be with people I tend to miss. So although my father was in Hyderabad and I was in Delhi, I spent at least 3-4 days every month with him religiously. Then one day the ominous call did come. But at his age it was expected and a matter of time. I reached there immediately to take care of affairs and informed all my family who are mainly in the north of India that they should please do me the favour of not rushing down. For one I did not have the resources to host anyone; and more importantly I wanted to be alone. I told them they would be welcome to visit me and my mother when we were in Delhi in a month’s time. Knowing me they all did as told. We did not miss them and I am sure they were very relieved to avoid this troublesome trip.

I have been one of the lucky ones. I enjoyed exactly 47 years of a close life with my father and my brother. I pride myself in thinking that the delight was mutual. I took time out to spend as much of my days as I could with both of them. I may regret a lot of things but not the time with them. Now that they are gone I feel orphaned. But as it happens in life there are always compensatory comings and goings. My daughter came into my life when I was 58; when I had all the time in the world to devote to her. The last 3 and a half years I have been with her all the time. My wife is a full time employee so the mothering came on my shoulders and I loved it. It has been the loveliest part of my life. The laughter, the kisses, the clinging and the gamboling; nothing can beat it all. Only now that she is growing up and does not need my physical embraces so much I am already beginning to feel the distancing and a wistfulness creeps in. I get to hold her nowadays only when something disturbs her at night and then she slips into my lap and goes to sleep in my arms. How long will the title “Grandest Papa in the Whole World” last? Why do these kids have to grow so fast?

When I started writing this my father was in the ICU, but has now passed away. I spent many hours alone with him inside that ICU and am putting down thoughts, more like realizations & questions that went inside my mind during that time.

Initially I felt uneasy as I had not spent so much time with him for a long time now even if he was mostly sedated in this state. I had come back to my hometown to be with my parents in their older age. If time permitted we used to talk about my children and other things pertaining to family and general issues. But a lot of time together was spent with me on my mobile or doing my work, i.e. without any proper interaction.

My memory took me back to my much younger days. I remembered once when I was about 6, my father had gone on an overnight tour and I just forgot all about it. I had sketched a picture of a car the way he had taught me and in the evening I started waiting for him outside home at his usual time of arrival from office. Then the wait grew longer as he wouldn’t show up, so I went in and asked ma why dad was not coming and she told me that he was on tour and would only come next day. And my world went totally blank and how I had hated him for not being there in one of my moments of triumph which was his very gift.

Another instance that is strongly etched was when he was dropping us at the railway station for graqndpa’s place to spend summer holidays. As we were saying our goodbyes I started to have this empty feeling about why pa was not accompanying us. My little mind got into its own mature thought process that dad does so much for us and when it came to holidaying he was not a part of it as he can’t get that long a leave. The situation just got to me and I just got into a sulky mood with tears filling my eyes as the train left the station.

I had wanted to share all good moments with dad while young. I wonder when and what happened that a free spirited communication was lost between us as I grew older. Was it his perspectives on what and how I wanted to do things that held me back or is it how I took it?

In the calm of ICU I could recall how he would race his ‘Lambretta’ scooter and later ‘Priya’ scooter to a high speed just for me with me standing in the front as the gushes of air hit me and moisten my eyes. The pride I feel in saying that I have been driving since I was in 4th standard was again instilled by him by letting me hold the steering wheel of his official jeep while I sat in his lap as he parked it inside the garage.

Why were these moments hitting me so hard now when they were inside me always? Isn’t this what all parents are supposed to do? Give their all to their children today in bringing them up and feeling the unsaid fulfilment with a complete detachment from tomorrow. Small things like dressing them up for school, being present at the important events, guiding and pulling them out of negativity in case of failures, being close, feeling and loving while in pain due to cuts and bruises from falling off the bicycle or a little fever are numerous such events that are forgotten so easily.

I still remember the way he would take me in his arms and keep me close to his heart. In ICU while supporting him to sit straight to take a burp or while sponging his body or while I held his hand during his wheezing, I wondered when and why did we get in to an unsaid agreement not to touch each other the way we used to. I felt a new thrill and completeness in being this close to him and didn’t want to miss a single opportunity of holding him.

I started getting perturbed and frustrated on losing so much time while he was well and taking him for granted. By my side was the man who had been my Hero in various ways and given me all his love and attention. I was not thinking about how I would ever repay him as I knew I have to pass it on to my children. But I was thinking if I’ll get a chance to thank him and will I ever be able to thank him enough for everything he’s done. I knew this is my chance to give back a small part of it and thank God for that.

I have helped people in distress! How? By forwarding emails that would pay 2 cents for every email forwarded to the little girl who is battling for her life in an ICU in some obscure hospital, with baffling complications, which only some brilliant specialist surgeon can handle. The surgery costs a huge sum though. But no sweat. I need not reach for those purse-strings yet. I need to just forward this email to my 300+ contacts who will so generously forward it again to their kith and kin. I would still contribute to this good cause. I am proud to have done my bit for her. I feel good.

What else? I have shared important information that could help my friends in distress. Like how to deal with a heart attack if you are alone or how not to get trapped by thieves at the ATM and how to bring in the local police by simply typing your password backwards. I do care for my friends and relatives and isn’t that a great social cause?

More. I had been deeply moved by the events that rolled out on our television screens on 26/11. My Mumbai had been attacked! I couldn’t take that, could I? I signed the online petition that urged the Government to proactively take on the scourge of terrorism that was eating into our national fabric. What more could I do?

Are you laughing at me? I just hope you are! Because all my responses described above can be collectively called “slacktivism” -  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slacktivism – a combination of “slacker” and “activism”.  You don’t need to dirty your hands or spend more time than to lift your finger only to click on your mouse to either sign that petition that you so ardently support or to forward that email that could save someone’s life. Everyone is doing it – all for a good cause!

If you think online petitions work, read about their shortcomings here: http://www.snopes.com/inboxer/petition/internet.asp. If you think that the forwards do pay those 2 cents per forwarded mail, please be informed that these are hoax emails with nobody tracking them and no money being offered. Also often, almost always, nobody is in distress either. Thankfully! So what good have I done last year? Except the feel-good sigh that one heaved of having acted on things close to our heart?

The world is going through a bad phase. Corporates, globally, are cutting down on their expenses. One hopes that they don’t cut down on their CSR (Corporate Social Responsibility) spends this year. One also hopes that we citizens too do not cut back on our social responsibility, which means a whole lot to those who aren’t asking for too much – only their survival and their basic needs in life. That project to build a home for the homeless, that school for the tribal children, physically or mentally disabled children or for the street children of a megacity would surly get held up for lack of funds, while we click away to glory. Back the genuine cause of your choice to the hilt – with some real help – your money, your time and your attention. This is the time when they need it most!

–

A management professional, Gopinath is a hobbyist writer since his college days. Humour, language, creativity are the main subjects of his interest. His “artickles” blog provides information, insights into current events with a humorous twist. Visit him at http://whatnonsanz.blogspot.com/.

Thereafter, once we were born…
We began our journey, with 24*7 help, from our mother.
Then our parents.
Our siblings.
Our classmates.
Our college friends.
Our peers.
Our colleagues,well wishers and superiors.

Thats how we reached, where we are now.
Wherever we are.

Think, and then reflect on this continuous invisible strain of human inter-dependability without which, one cannot be what he is, or get to, wherever he wants to get to.
Has gotten to, too.
Then why are we unable to
Get there, without being stressed?
Why do we get so stressed up, when we do not get to get there?
It was not like this earlier.
Strange.

Now, let’s do us a small favour.
Let’s analyze it on paper.

Just jot down how many times, and who all, have helped you, and in turn, you have helped, ever since you began to seek help, until you succeeded.
And continued to succeed.

Take a piece of paper…divide your life into periods of 5 years each, from the time you were born.
Write down in each block of 5 years, how many times were you helped and by whom.
For how long?

Did you ask for that help or was it provided without being asked for?
How did you feel about it?
Did you reciprocate…if so how?

You will be surprised…at the results.

It would begin with 100 percent help from your mother, when you were a new-born.
You would reciprocate to her 100 percent too, with a gleeful smile…when you were cleaned, fed, bathed and fed.
You never new those words, Thank you!!! then.
But you did reciprocate.
That charming smile from you would be enough, to send a signal to your mother, that you loved all the help from her, all the time.
She would never feel the stress of doing those acts again and again.
For you.

Soon, you will discover, as you grew up, help from one and all, would get to dwindle with age.
A depleting trend would emerge on that very piece of paper.
At times help would come to you, only when you sought it.
Cried out for it…in despair.
At times it would not, despite being sought.
In most trying times.

But, did you continue to help…in those times?
Think!

Mark that juncture as a significant time line, in your life.
That would be the time, when you would have invited stress into your life.
As a strife…advertently or inadvertently.
A parasite to your own blissful existence would become visible to you by now, on paper.

As you move on, into the next blocks of 5 years,you will discover:
With age, education, experience and economic independence, seeking help would have dwindled to almost zero.
Helping would also have dissipated.
To an almost zilch value.

And stress… it would have proportionately increased.
Doubled, tripled and it would ultimately emerge as an ill health related factor afflicting your life too.

Those innocent smiles from infant days, would have gradually reduced to smirks.
Frowns, migraines, strains, pains and… frequent failures would stare at you.

Failures!
As a grown up human, professional, father, mother, brother, sister, friend or for that matter even as a foe!
All stress related examples of failures would look into your eyes one by one.
Why?

You are no longer the child you were, and infant with exclusive right to 100 percent help!
You are grown up now…economically independent too.
Then why these failures…however small they may be!

On close introspection you will learn that it was/is the result of your own refusal to seek help due to several factors, the major one being, your own ego.
Egotism would have by now morphed from economical independence.
It would have influenced you to not help too as a retaliatory measure.

That‚Äôs how, you stopped being helped…and also stopped helping people around you.
Thats how you allowed stress to make a major difference to you and your own lifestyle.

It‚Äôs not me here who is surmising this for you…the paper in front of you, it is that exercise that is making you realize this startling but true emerged, revelation.

A very small exercise but very revealing one, has shown you why you get stressed so often these days.
Took you hardly an hour to accomplish/arrive at that as a conclusion.
Justifiably too.

Having done with that, what next?
Simple.

Reverse the trend…and get to bend.
Get to do it.
Do it now!
Mend.

Help and send…help.
Don’t whelp.
Help like hell!
Ring the help help help bell, loud…to be well.
Rather than be unwell.

Help.
To succeed…to be helped…to smile…to be the well being in you.

To live a happy life as an individual, as well as a responsible member of a society, that is reeling under stress related health disorders.

A society full of people ailing and wailing…for Help.

Do you want to join them too?
No, you don’t.

Therefore reach out and help…to touch, and be touched in turn.
Now.

Do that as a habit, develop it as a second nature.
To beat your own stress, if not anything else.

Help is a stress buster either ways.
So what stops you?
From succeeding and not failing?
Please help.

To concretely conclude: let me rhyme the message in this effort for you.

When all else fails – help someone who grieves and wails.
As help never fails them, who don’t fail to help, on the contrary, it billows their sails.

By doing just that, you are helping yourself succeed too.
Directly and indirectly.
De-stressingly speaking.

I believe no truer words were ever spoken. It is so hard to remain true to yourself if every message you hear, every person you know, everything you read, tell you you should be something else. In this great cacophony, it is all but impossible to hear that tiny voice inside you speaking your truth. Most of us never hear that voice until we’ve wasted years, maybe an entire lifetime, trying to live someone else’s life.

Every day I meet women who’ve lived their lives for their children, men who’ve lived their lives for their employers, people who’ve lived their lives for their lovers or their friends or their families and are waiting for the big day when they will be rewarded with love or success or happiness. Any rewards they get are not enough because they haven’t been true to themselves. If you hate the work you do, no matter how much you get paid, it will never be enough. If you are living your life for someone else, no matter how much they love you, it will never be enough. That’s because no amount of money, no amount of love is worth the sacrifice of your life. Your task (and it’s not an easy one) is to discover who you really are, and make the most of your gifts, your talents, and your life.

Why is this so hard? Because we have some impossible images we think we have to live up to. Go to a movie or watch television and see the perfect couple with the perfect children and the perfect bodies and the perfect house and the perfect cars. We are all experts at thinking everyone else has it together and we don’t. We judge ourselves to be inadequate and constantly make ourselves miserable.

We keep listening to all the outside noise and desperately try to fit in, to meet these impossible standards, and we suppress the most important thing – the only thing that will bring us true happiness – being who we really are.

Being who you really are requires bravery because there is no road map. You have to find your own way. One guide I am sure of is pain. If you are hurting – you are not being true to yourself. If you hate your job, it is not where you belong. If your relationships make you feel bad, those are not the people you should be with. When you are happy, when you experience joy – then you are on the right path. It may not be the right path for anyone but you. That’s okay; no one can take this journey for you. Many will try to get you to take the path they have chosen – to validate their choices. You have to find your own way and listen to your own heart; otherwise you are once again living someone else’s life.

How to find yourself?

Follow joy, walk away from pain.

Experience solitude. Take some time to get to know who you are. Take a walk. Meditate. Just be alone for a while. Think.

Follow your curiosity – take a class, read a book, try something new. You can’t find out who you truly are if you live the same life as your parents or your spouse or your friends. Discover YOUR life!

Don’t hide – use your brain, express your opinions, laugh out loud, sing!

Your life should be a celebration of who you are, not a eulogy to everything you are not. You are a miracle – honor that by making the most of who you are.

————————

Denise Ryan, MBA, is a Certified Speaking Professional, a designation of excellence held by less than 10% of all professional speakers.  She is a blogger http://motivationbychocolate.blogspot.com
Her website is http://www.firestarspeaking.com where you can see more articles and sign up for a free newsletter.