Darshan

When I lived in India, and after (for lack of better words) a Nirvacalpa Samadhi experience that exploded spontaneously within me as I was reading a chapter in a book called (interestingly enough) “Vision of The Divine”, I became intensely drawn to the process of inquiry into the nature of the Self.  Simultaneously arriving alongside this interest, two books were given to me. “Talks with Ramana Maharshi”, and “I AM THAT” (conversations with Nisargadatta Maharaj). 

Although some ashram inmates might have felt that reading anything but Swami’s direct teachings was a ‘no, no’, I did not see any difference, especially since his verbal directive to me, along with the “internal” happenings of ‘my’ mind revolved around the inquiry “Who am I?”  That the books came my way without my searching them out was another of his gifts, I believe.  (As an aside:  When I use the terms ‘He, Him, His, or even Sai’ very often I am speaking of that HE…that SAI who is in fact my very own Self manifesting as the Beloved teacher dressed in orange, as well as all that is manifest and that which is not.)

As He also directed my husband Lee when once we sat together at his feet to “Inquire…who am I?”, we have made it a part of our mutual daily practice at home “in the world”.  Along with my morning ‘sits’ (I hesitate to call them meditations, since they differ so radically from the long ago experiences of Oneness and bliss), Lee and I read daily the words of those Gnanis who have tread that path and realized that Self through inquiry.  To me it is darshan (a glimpse of the Real).  And as such, it is much more than just reading and listening.  The words are alive with essence when the mind is quiet enough to feel it. 

Imagine, (those of us who might call an experience of “Reality” however fleeting it might be, darshan), how exquisite it would be to experience the ‘world’ in its entirety as THAT; just for one moment; the world as it is, in all of its aspects…darshan of the ONE. 

The Rabbit Hole

Sue, an old friend now living in the states after 30+ years in India suggested that I create a blog describing what it’s like to live “in the world” after having “given it up” to live in the presence of the Avatar Sri Sathya Sai Baba.  This suggestion came on the heels of some other friends encouraging me to finish and publish my “memoirs” of that time, as they found the stories to be “inspiring”.

I started writing the India journal in 1999 and wrote enthusiastically until the enthusiasm shifted to boredom.  This process continued until late this summer, when I reached the point in time in the journal when I left India after spending the better part of the years 1978 – 1981 there. I have returned many times to India over the years, but have not lingered long there.  And though the years since that earlier time have been filled with lessons, I have said little about them in the manuscript.  The ‘book’ has been edited through a collaborative effort and is in a “holding pattern” as I write.

So, is it true that I have something to say?  Perhaps the truth is that I have something to hear.  There are so many stations along the way, and nowhere do I find a destination.  So many exquisite experiences of what has been called “Reality” have not culminated in an arrival at a place.  In fact, those experiences of sublime Oneness were just that…experiences that came and went…come and go.

In my worst moments here “in the world” and by THAT I mean my mind, I find myself falling down the rabbit hole and getting lost in the habit of believing myself to be this woman with all of her raging emotions, judgmental thoughts, desires, fears, and attachments.  What use was/are these experiences of “Reality” then, if they are not constant?  And what good has come of my once “giving up the world”?  Good questions.

Perhaps the rabbit holes of the present are not so deep, nor do those experiences last very long before being interrupted by flashes of awareness.  Would this be the case had I never gone to and sat at the feet of Sai?  I don’t know.  But I believe those moments of falling would have taken me over as they had before, and left me hopeless and helpless for weeks instead of minutes or hours.  And even now in moments of falling into them, there is simultaneously an awareness of their falseness.

Before my experience of India (and by India I mean Sai) I cannot say that I knew, believed in, nor trusted the concept of love.  In His presence the ‘I’ or who I think myself to be would dissolve in an explosion of light, or be battered by the question “who is it that…?” until there was nothing left but spaciousness.  That light, and that spaciousness is love.   I believe that was His gift to me.  As I would watch Him day in and day out from the confines of whatever state of mind would possess me at the time, I could see that light and spaciousness in action. 

Translating

     
One day Sai Baba ordered me from across a room (when he was surrounded by a group of Russians and Italians all speaking to him at once), to “Translate!”  In answer I said, “Swami, I don’t speak Russian.” Again looking deeply into my eyes he commanded, “Translate!”  I knew absolutely that he was fully aware that I didn’t speak either of those languages, and was a bit confused by his insistence.  Later a few people who witnessed the event approached me to tell me that Swami meant for me to put into practice his teachings, and/or to write about my experiences.  “Yes” I would say, knowing that the advice did not quite capture the entirety of what I felt was meant by the command.

One day after returning to the states and after much contemplation on the “translate” directive, I opened up the huge yellow volume of the Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary that belonged to my scholarly husband.  I was a bit surprised to find that the first definition was “to move a thing from one place to another”; but was quite astounded when my eyes fell on the second definition:  “to translate - by faith Enoch was translated that he should not see death; and he was not found, because God translated him, because it was said that he was pleasing to God”. 

In the Vedas the idea is put forth that the spiritual aspirant must “die” before ‘she’ dies.  This is called the experience of the Jivanmukta, of the Gnani who realizes the true nature of the Self and abides there while continuing to inhabit the physical form.  This above all was my heart’s desire.  It felt to me that this was the best possible service a being could render to humanity.  Without the death of the ego, how could there be such a thing as selfless service? 

However, earlier on the day Sai insisted I translate,  he’d asked me what I wanted.  I closed my eyes and whispered, “I want what you came to give”.  This I believe is the truth of that experience; his promise of translation is what he came to give.  But before that death, the translation that will be is of the experience of day-to-day life filled with the mental activity that simultaneously creates and destroys the illusion of the world.