love-light and butterflight

often when people die we cry. we get sad. we mourn. we miss them. sometimes we think that death is random, or perhaps unfair, or maybe untimely, or unwanted, or cruel. but we can say all those things about life. life is bizarre. we know bio-logic-ally how people get pregnant, but really, that is some random magic we have accepted as logic. penis, vagina, sperm, swimming, egg, fertilization, conception, birth.

but really, why is it that way? we don't know. it could have been any one of a gazillion ways. and why does the baby come out of the vagina, or as my friend once described - what business does a watermelon have coming out of a lemon? it's puzzling. i'm about to become a maasi. coming-soon baby has the outsides shaped, and the insides are being carved. it is pretty close to fully developed now, having grown from a sunflower seed size to a mango. it could come out now, and it would be a lot easier and less painful for my sister, actually for mango baby too. but no, these paths are not meant to be. life is hard. we are always going to be watermelons trying to squeeze through lemons, not believing it to be possible, because of our large size (ego/ physical mind) and hard shell (physical body).

but actually, we underestimate ourselves. we are much more collapsible, deflatable, twistable, shrinkable, and adaptable than we imagined. we only know our bigness, the space we want to occupy. but we have forgotten our smallness, the space we come from, the space that remains intact inside us, the core seed. when life is hard, we are forced (or we learn) to shed our extra layers, to pass through the eye of the needle and still retain our essence. when we think we have nothing or nobody, we shrink. we go deep within, into the quiet dark magic that we came from, to access our godliness. life can be random, unfair, untimely, unwanted, or cruel. death can be perfect, and beautiful.

we are but butterflies, constantly in metamorphosis. and like every transformation that is radical and beautiful, it is painful.

i welcome the shapes that are emerging. and remember to cocoon yourself in love and light to get you through the pain meanwhile.

for neena goswamy and emil paddison.

Safety / Violence

There are no "random acts of violence". It is safety that is random. I'm just lucky that I didn't get raped, groped, slapped or called a bitch today. It doesn't mean that it can't happen tonight.

At some point, I just had to stop looking over my shoulder, and to re-learn and practice that daily.

Battle Against Sexism

From the battle of the sexes to the battle against sexism. it's a painful and confusing struggle. we are seduced with war. tempted to lash out, hurl poisonous words and be steel-chested and rock-hearted to face "the enemy".

but what i feel is a fiery river of pain. my spirit collapses inwards, protecting herself against the violence. my heart contracts. my belly knots and i sob. i sob with rage and anxiety and the tired hopeless feeling of "but i didn't do anything". it's an old feeling, this flame of misogyny my sisters and mothers have been burning in for generations.

the hot tears make puddles on my homework, the social change work i was in the middle of. that's what sexism does. it interrupts the process of change, the process of revolution and gaining power. that's why they asked our great-grandmothers to jump into the fire when their husbands died.

"Of course, women so empowered are dangerous." audre lorde

i stop crying. i reach out. i write to my sisters. i write out.

i'm going back in, not just for me, but for those of us to come. i will remain and speak out and face the witch-burning attempts. i take the vilification and targeting as an affirmation of my powerfulness.

and i also know, you're not my enemy. you're just afraid and insecure. you will never complete yourself this way, by trying to make me less than you and make us a perfectly imbalanced whole. i can still show up, ruined, lovely, peaceful, and unafraid.

Ruined and lovely

"Today, like every day, we are ruined and lonely." - Rumi

When I first read that I heard/read it as lovely, not lonely. Now that's all that makes sense. I woke up today feeling ruined and lovely. Feeling sadness, stiffness, confusion, and ache from last week, last night, or maybe the last 5 years. Been using too much, dwelling on too many exes, and trying to convince myself that my heart is, in fact, still intact. I'm not convinced.

Maybe broken isn't the right word, but definitely saturated beyond capacity or my imagination. But then, what do I know of the heart's capacity?

Grief can feel like stillness.
Hope feels mindless, and that's a relief.

Today, I am ruined and lovely.
Yesterday, when I was happy, I was ruined and lovely then too.
Maybe that's what I can hold on to. I was never intact to begin with.

Stillness

I don't know what stillness is. I don't have it, not in this moment anyways. From what little I understand, it's in there somewhere, deep below the surface.

Does it mean to slow down until your insides feel still?
Does it mean that your mind stills and there is quiet inside?
Does it mean to be unperturbed no matter what happens?

I'm not still yet. The mind chatters constantly, I'm always worried about being late to something or not doing enough or maybe not being enough, so I move too quickly and try to do too much and end up with bruises I don't remember receiving. Pain too, is a way to make you slow down.

Maybe I should focus on remembering that I am enough. That there is enough hope in the world. That there is enough money too, and resources for all of us. We are just wasting it on war and nuclear weapons and large screen TVs. There is enough peace too, and enough of us who are actively trying to de-escalate ourselves on a daily basis, in every moment, so that WE are not causes of harm, but initiators of love.

Today I went to work then acupuncture then sound healing + meditation. Then I came home and washed a lot of dishes while listening to Jagjit Singh radio station. Each of those activities was equally meditative when I was completely focused, as present as I could be. We set intentions/affirmations after meditation, and here are some of the ones that I remember/want to hold on to. Grateful for and crediting all those who were there (without revealing names)and collectively this emerged -

* I am okay with myself, no matter what.
* My dreams are given to me by God, and God will accomplish them.
* I am connection.
* I am serenity.
* I am deeply loved.
* I am surrender.

And maybe, if I can stop seeking so hard and stop trying to file, sort, organize and label the chaos, I'll be still too.

Surrender

I need to spell it out so I can really try to practice being surrender. And keep adding to the list as I figure new things out that help me surrender.

• To relax in mind and body
• Be present, be fully here now
• Accept what is happening
• Trust it is for the best
• Let go of expectations or attachment to outcomes
• Feel your feelings. Allow them to surface in your body too.
• Respond in the present moment to whatever is coming up – give it attention, space, and appropriate nourishment
• Don’t worry or have anxiety or trip about the future – being present now will lead to where things and you need to move
• Dissolve ego – “I” didn’t do it well or badly. It was exactly as it was meant to be.
• Don’t be in regrets about the past. Trust that it was meant to be. And it’s over.
• Know that God is in the current moment, and that moment is a gift – the present – from where you can learn what you need to know right now.
• Pay attention to coincidences. They are not coincidences.
• Enjoy each moment. Every moment that you think you’re not in the right place or not having fun or joy, really pay attention to what this moment wants to teach you.
• Trust the timing of things. Diving timing is always perfect. There are no oversights or mistakes (or coincidences).
• Trust your body over your mind because your soul rings the bells of the temple loud and clear, before you can analyze why it feels a certain way. Cultivate prioritizing your body’s messages and needs.
• Be okay with moving slowly. Everything will happen as and when it needs to. Relax.
• Go with the flow.

About that writing thing....

Sometimes I sit up in bed propped by my three pillows, pen poised over paper, and nothing. Nothing happens. I forget words, I forget how to write, I forget what I know. Then I get shaky for a second, that it’s not true, I’m not a writer, I never was. All the words I ever wrote before this were a fluke, an aberration, or a gift that has now been taken away.

Then two things occur to me. One, I’m probably poised over the wrong notebook, it should be my journal instead. I need to download all the crap in my head. Heady crap is crap for sure. The second thing is, it is a gift. Everything is. No thought or word is original, or coming from me. That’s when I feel a sense of relief, and surrender. When there’s something to say I’ll be told what it is and then I’ll know to serve as a messenger. Messages are the fun unknowns. Where is the next one coming from? What will it be about? In the past, they’ve come from all over – a person, vanity license plates, ads on a billboard, crystal clarity from within, email signatures, or none of the above, straight to paper through ink through hand holding pen, bypassing all thought or consciousness. When this happens, I learn as much as I share. That’s how I know anyone can write. It’s the “becoming/being a writer” part that holds us up. Once, I found myself having this conversation on paper, with my self.

Write.
Write.
Write.
Write what??
I don’t know! Just start writing so we can find out.

For me, writing is a mirror that allows me to hold a greater degree of truth within myself. When I go days without journaling, I think I don’t need it anymore. When it becomes weeks, I’m sure of it. When it becomes months, the doors to a deeper consciousness start to close and I can’t quite make out their edges in the haze within. Ego shuts that door and I become disparate from words, which is the first lie. The voice of truth/Truth requires constant nourishment in order to keep talking. Not writing is not listening.

Writing is a language and a medium. It connects us to ourselves, other human beings, and the place of shared consciousness held by the SuperSoul. In yoga I’ve often heard “Don’t try to control your breathing. Let the breath breathe you.“ I offer the same for writing: Don’t try so hard to write perhaps, let the words write you.