31 December 2006
On the last day of the last year, something significant happened to me, which I thought I’d share. It was a kind of rebirth.
I had always thought of myself as having had a “difficult” childhood. The details do not matter. The practical impact was a sense of lack of love and the resulting sense of pain that seemed to accompany me since then, whether loudly, or subtly, as a background noise.
I had been gradually and consciously letting go of it for a long time now. I had been growing up. The last day of the last year is I think when it finally substantially happened. This is what took place.
A friend of mine in Delhi requested that I meet a friend of hers in Bombay while I was here, to give her a book. So I met V. December 31 of last year was only my second meeting with her.
At one point in the afternoon in the middle of conversation, when talk had suddenly turned round to my childhood, she asked what was holding me back. What would it take for me to let it go? Something happened, as the sun slanted in through the large, open windows, to put me in a stunned state at her words and just have me listen.
So, I listened. She said: All the love you ever need you can give to yourself. It is all inside you. Who are you waiting for to give it to you? A woman? But if you cannot give it to yourself, do you imagine anyone could? A whole new life is waiting for you, patiently, waiting for you to cross this bridge, to make this final move. Surrender! This is what she said to me: Surrender! There are things that you are called upon to do in this world. There is so much that is just waiting to flow through you into the world and it is blocked. Let go! Open up! Just let go of the pain.
And I did. She took me to a Japanese Buddhist temple in Worli. She said that it was important that I make a ritual gesture of surrender, at a place of holiness outside the context of our daily lives. So, I did.
Sitting in that temple before a marble-white Buddha with closed eyes, I let go of the pain. The long-held pain, that had been at my centre for so long, which I had kept there to define my existence. I realized I didn’t need to do that any more. So I let go of my little bag of pain and placed it at the Buddha’s feet. I surrendered all the pain. And I took responsibility for all my love – my state of love. They both meant the same thing.
And I said: I accept the new life that awaits me. And I said: I give myself all the love I need.
And the evening prayers started at this time. The drum began to beat and a chant went up in prayer. And as I sat there, a breeze blew in from behind me and enveloped me in its embrace. That is when I realized: Each time that the wind has enveloped me in its embrace, it is love. I have been loved. Each time that the sunlight has gently kissed my face, it is love. I have been loved. Each time that a drop of rain has run down my skin, it is love. I have been loved. Each time that I have seen, heard, said, touched, thought, anything beautiful, it has been love, and I have been loved. Where had there been a lack of love? How could I say that I had not been loved? When it was simply not true! There was all this love that I had never fully acknowledged, that I was being showered with even now – the sheer love of pure consciousness, of being alive, of living and being able to have all these experiences! What else was love? And when had I not been loved? Ever?
I saw all this and it was as if I had been delivered to myself. V. had sat beside me all this while and she had been my angel, to deliver me back to myself. We sat, surrendered, left all that behind, and walked away from that temple, to have a nice cup of coffee, and embrace a new year and a new beginning!
And the word on my lips, the word for all agreement, affirmation, accord, was Aum, Aameen, and Amen. I agree with this life. I agree with this world.
And so I say it again, here, in a ritual gesture of affirmation: Aum. May we all realize just how blessed and loved we are. Amen.
January 5, 2007
