Can an orchard be turned into jam?

There’s a Chinese proverb that claims that with patience an orchard can be turned into jam!

 I wonder if the idea of making men peaceful, one at a time and then adding it all together to create a race opposed to self-destruction is even possible?

Whether its possible or not, in truth there is no available alternative other than individual inner transformation.

Years back, tormented by severe anxiety and a racing mind that just would not shut up, I was suffering deeply. I decided to take up meditation to help calm myself and slow down. Unfamiliar and alien to the concept of a quiet mind, I sat pretending upon my cushion day in and day out, simply following the guidance I had received in my classes. I really wasn’t sure of what I was doing.

Overtime I learnt to quiet my racing mind and control my anxiety in most circumstances. I still suffer, sometimes deeply, from time to time but I recognize what is happening and I’m able to change my course.

 I have to admit that the work that I have put in is far from over and it will probably take a few lifetimes before I’m enlightened J

However, as a result of meditation, the most surprising revelation to me has been, that with concentrated effort the hardest to shake off beliefs and counter productive conceptions that I had about my self and my life can be changed forever.

 To those who are skeptical I would ask that you simply observe your mind for a few moments without judgment or interference. You are likely to find a stream of thoughts and emotions that flow through. You will notice that though internally things are constantly changing you might be holding onto the belief in the existence of a self that is definitive and stable.

This clinging is what causes us to often react in short sighted and selfish ways that can also be very harmful.

Cultivation of contemplative sciences enables one to let go of the most stubbornly held destructive ideas and notions. A sieve like mind that simply allows concepts to flow through improves the quality of life and our interactions with others.

 As a result, the angry aunt, the cynical cousin, the critical elder, the racist bus driver will continue to bother you but compassion can be extended quiet easily as you recognize their clogged and clustered mind states that blocks the renewing experiences of peace and love.

Unfortunately contemplative practices cannot be externally enforced. Internal transformation is slow, hard and challenging work that takes decades to bear fruit. 

Science while improving life has proved insufficient in enlarging our sense of wellbeing. Force and violence can keep the dark and unexamined aspects of our lives contained only for a while. Detailed recording of history, its instruction, religions, advancement in technology have not been successful in establishing structural changes in our psyche.

Be it the heartless extermination of the Jewish people during the World War, the senseless slaughter that plagued the varied communities in Bosnia, the still hard to comprehend extermination forces that acted out in Rwanda or the atrocities in modern day Syria, what we encounter time and again is everyday humans who have simply lost all points of references.

It is perhaps time to give the softer arts of contemplation and inner transformation   a place and a fair chance in civilized worlds before we run amok destroying each other.  

In my mind, of all the fears both real and imagined to which we have gotten habitually reactional, the only one that threatens life itself is the complete erosion of love and compassion.  Power hungry regimes, rulers and leaders cannot enable us. Change, can be brought about only by ordinary, everyday people.

On why the travel ban strikes too close to home....

On why the travel ban strikes too close to home….

Of course the travel ban does not include India and I’m free to travel in the time being! But the sheer arbitrariness applied in the selection of the countries upon which the ban has been imposed in unsettling and fear inducing to say the least.

To all those who wish to remain silent in the face of this inhuman atrocity, I wish to remind - that it could very well be you stranded in an airport somewhere, suddenly removed from a life that you have established while your loved ones scramble to make sense of a world from which you are absent.

As a first generation immigrant from India, I am all too familiar with the immigration and the visa policies of the US. They are some of the most stringent policies in the world, to which thousands of people like myself have willfully subjected ourselves with the understanding that it is essential for the country to have confidence in the people that it brings into her protection. The process is a long drawn one, involving reams of paperwork; interviews and fingerprinting to make sure that you are a decent human.

It isn’t easy and there are no assurances of getting a visa or a green card simply because you have applied for one or have been patient.

What shocks me is that after all that, this government still assumes its okay to simply pull the rug from under the feet of millions of innocent people, be it, green card holders who have spent decades formulating a life in here, educated professionals of Syria whose life has been turned upside down by war, mothers with young children who are forced to leave home with only just as many belongings as that they can carry, young boys of Sudan who have had to walk miles and miles to get away from their oppressors or Iraqi citizens who have worked along with American soldiers and assisted them……… what sense does it even make??

International travel is hardly romantic, especially when undertaken in the confines of the economy class, which composes of the majority of the world populace.  Very often the only factor that encourages one to repeat travel is the simple joy of being re-united with loved ones or beloved friends.  And now, to imagine being stranded in an airport somewhere, forced to return without being able to hold your loved ones or in worse cases to return to the very scum that you were trying to protect your family from is both appalling and inhuman.

I cannot imagine being stuck with my young children in an airport somewhere not sure if I can return to the life that we’ve worked hard to create out here or for my kids and myself to be stranded here in the US while their travelling father is informed that he cannot return.

Its time to put yourself in the shoes of those immigrants and imagine your life from their perspective for a change!

Before you pride yourself with the life that this country has offered its immigrants it is time to wonder about what they have had to lose to accept your offering.

So much for non-attachment..

So much for non-attachment!

Maybe it is the tuft of grey that has snuck up around my temples, or the knee joints that start complaining after I climb the stairs for the fifth time, or more so it’s all about the annual check up and the doctor uttering the word ‘peri menopausal’.

Anyhow, the already inquisitive mind of mine has turned drastically towards Buddhist philosophy, in search of solace.

Be it the nuances of understanding the mind the way Kamalashila specifies, contemplating the middle-way masterminded by Nagarjuna or simply relinquishing conceptualization of any kind as suggested by Chandrakirti, these ancient Indian masters have me hooked to the profound wisdom of their words.

However, the skeptic in me sometimes makes me wonder. Is philosophizing the same as perhaps relaxing with a drink, smoking a bit of pot, watching late night comedies or cleaning compulsively – simply a way to relax the mind and keep it in the here and now than in the far and far away?

On Monday, as I absorbed a new text that I’ve started reading I felt my chest expand with such joy at the beauty of the explanations offered that my spirit was soaring all day. The casual e-mail, checking on the health of a dear friend who has been in and out of hospitals recently didn’t warrant much anxiety, as I was sure she’d respond that very day.

By Tuesday afternoon, when I still hadn’t heard a word from her, I’d become un-obviously anxious. I pretended to keep my calm, reassured myself that it was my monkey mind projecting the unlikely alternatives of death, unbearable grief and loss of unimaginable magnitude. I was even able to withdraw my mind from such nastiness and stay focused on what was planned for the day.

Finally when I did hear from her, late afternoon, I felt so relieved that I had to rest. It was the fatigue of unfelt anxiety that had sneaked into me to such an extent that though relieved that she was all right, I turned off my electronics, downed a glass of wine and took a short nap to celebrate or recoup, as you’d prefer to say.

So much for non-attachment!

I guess the question is not if its better to meditate, philosophize, down alcohol, walk in circles, clean, cook, talk, rake the yard, work out strenuously or simply quit the scene by getting high in order to relax the devil’s tool that is so hard to live with – the human mind.

But the real question is what is it that makes life worth the living that we put into it?

And the answer is always these handful of pain-in-the-ass relationships, that after an exhausting day make us turn on the kitchen lights once more to prepare a grilled cheese sandwich for the child who was too distracted to eat her dinner.

Every thing else is simply defense against our helplessness!

Who am I to judge? To each their own! Cheers!

Stop Mourning and Extend Your Hand

Stop Mourning and Extend your Hand

There was a period in my life when I felt invisible! In hindsight, my irrationality had its roots in my fear. I experienced such a great chasm between what I felt on the inside and how it was perceived on the outside that the only bridge that I could build was one of screaming rage.

At that point, all I needed was compassion.

I knew I had to dig my own self out of the hole that I had vanished into, I knew that my journey would be hard and I felt anxious, as I was incapable of controlling the outcome of such an experiment.

Luckily I had an understanding spouse and I had access to all the resources that I needed.  I no longer feel invisible, unheard or incapable!

Change is difficult! Especially the ones that come out of no-where and turn your life inside out.

Having said that, the means one employs to achieve an end is important for me. It will always remain so and I can never agree with the means employed by our president elect.

But this morning I woke up thinking about all the people in the rural small towns who came out in large numbers so that the rest of us could hear their screaming rage. These are people who have lost their livelihood, their communities, their families and their way of life as a result of globalization.

Added to the sudden disappearance of their way of life, as they have known for generations they have been branded as uneducated, deplorable and insensitive to upsetting comments. 

Its time to take a pause and put yourself in the shoes of these men and women!

We are all living in interesting times. Globalization is irreversible, perhaps the lives that have been changed can never be restored, the desired solutions may not exist and the promises made cannot be kept.

But we can all choose to be compassionate to all those who are suffering in our midst. We can remain patient and extend a helping hand while they figure their way out of the maze.

Perhaps this is a reality check for all of us on both sides of the aisle.

People who are in pain will scream out vulgarities. It is up to the rest of us to set down our privileged moral thinking and extend our ears and hands.

Grace is not the prerogative of the rich, ambitious or the greedy. Grace belongs to the ordinary man. Thank God most of us humans are ordinary!

In between...

The undercurrent of my being carries with forcefulness the story that you need to tell. The call of the many characters, the taste of sequences and events, the lighting within the scenes and sometimes even the scent of temple, sea, forest and dust filled rooms haunt me.

The cares of life are asking of me as well…. to bring the dish to perfection, to straighten the fabric of the couch, to wipe down that counter once more, to sit with the child until she’s done finishing what’s on her plate, to call a sibling, check upon a friend and on and on…..

All of this is wealth. All of which ask for attention.

Hold on and stay put for I fully intend to attend to you. Be patient so that when I am present I be worthy of the gifts you wish to bestow upon me. That I allow for you to flow through me without the interruption of my judgment or opinion is my heartfelt desire.

Time is ticking for me, you have made me with the need to measure and weigh. But you, timeless one, your instruments are infinite and your resolve far greater than the many cares that punctuate my life with meaning.

I can see you in the gentle breeze that brings the branches closer to my window and hear your whispers in the dancing leaves. This is that last load of laundry for the day; I promise I shall not take on one other task that shall keep me from you.

Then again why do I owe you any explanation?

The flute needs to be hollowed out to allow your music, the brushes cleaned before they play with your colors, the aching hand needs to forget its pain in writing your story and this life that you have granted needs to be lived so that it can express your intent and your desire.

Why then do I apologize? Why do you smile?

 In the middle of the day between meals, tasks, chores and countless errands I have dropped everything and have come to you – speak freely so that this day can be another one marked with the delight of your precious companionship…