Dear Zindagi
You are mystery aren’t you, I mean each day begins without a clue as to how it is going to go, I could go anyway, anywhere it is the beginning of the rest of my life. Actually when I think of life and mystery I kind of agree with Oscar Wilde, true mystery is not the invisible it is the visible. Zindagi you can be exciting and excitement adds thrill, wonder and energy to life. it this thrill that brings me back to the now and here.
I guess which is why I think of you as an mystery.. Dear Zindagi what a mystery you are strange is it not. The minute I say mystery a picture of a mist and smoke, a woman with gun, someone shot… a scream and whodunit emerges, the trail of clues the sifting of the actual leads from the red herring the adrenaline rush the final answer what we always knew it was the butler!!
Well my epiphany here was something totally different. you do not work mysteriously you are the mystery just the experience of taking a different road to the same destination, the vista is totally different, one comes across newer vendors with newer buyers mothers calling out are different, sometimes there are no mothers calling out but there are mothers looking out for someone to sit by them and give them that hearing.
Sometimes it is a child that is peddling through the sidewalk on her tricycle sometimes it is an elder trying to walk with dignity that he once had… before he had to combat arthritis. the shrubs that flower are different, so the shade giving trees. It amazing how much one different turn can change our life.
The new incense that we burn the smell it evokes is a mystery just as our own reactions to it. Sometimes these fragrances actually trigger some long forgotten memory. Or the mystery of cooking a new vegetable.. For me it is vegetable after all I am vegetarian. Everything is just amazing.
Zindagi I think hence forth I shall call you Neshamah the whispering will you be my friend, shall we walk this walk together?
In psychiatry we are told that the known is pleasure and unknown is pain. Some even talk of the fear of the unknown, but on the brink of unrevealing a mystery there is everything the anticipation, a little fear an over drive of imagination with regard to what might be there, yet it is being in here, it is exhilaration of being alive a past hurt is a forgotten buried with due respect and the scar is its tombstone, while the future incubates… the nerves are tingling adrenaline peaks it is for this moment and what it reveals.
Dear Zindagi I am reminded of that wondrous rainbow, today I know the rainbow just sums you up. Think of it takes both sun and rain to create the rainbow, so the same with life, there are smooth rides, rollercoaster ones, how we deal with it decides our Karma and the quality of our life, there are times when it is essential to work for the pot at the end of the rainbow, there are times when it is essential to just step back and choose the colour on the rainbow that we would like to slide on.
Dear Zindagi thanks for the timely wake I hope I won’t slide back to being a zombie.
“I am writing a letter to life for the #DearZindagi activity at BlogAdda“
Tag: life
The Druid’s Daughter
“When will his health improve?”
The look that the acharya gave me, I shall never forget in my life, may be it is the look a butcher would give the animal he slaughters.
“You, who are so precise you are not even in a position to tell me his birth star, does that not say anything to you?”
I knew what was coming next yet I took a deep breath, and asked, “My mind does not answer me any longer.”
“A soul that is gone, is calling him, and he cannot let you go, it is not about your mother or brother it is you, he is here only for you. Let him go”
“What did the joisha tell you?”Was my mother’s query
What do I tell her…I am the cause of his suffering…or do I say I am here to let him go? Slowly I went into the room, sat by papa. He was not very expressive with words but somehow he did make sure that he got the message across.
He smiled, when I went in.
“Papa, I can’t let you go”
“So, you did visit Kadaba”
“Yes”
“You know now, I am worried about how you will handle”
“Handle what”
“Joishru helallilava…. from your expression he didn’t have the courage to tell you the truth.”
“What, truth”
“You are my successor; your journey begins now… You see it cannot begin until I leave, and I cannot leave until you let me leave”
The whole thing seemed so strange and it was despite his pain he was clear in thought and stronger between us.
“maga, the first two years after I go will be very strange, things and people will appear in your space, things and people will disappear. Get the red VIP suitcase”
“Open it” he said when I got the suitcase down, it had an old parchment. It then flashed for an aggressively private person; he had no private space in the house. Maybe the table that he worked on nothing else. The open suitcase told me another story. There were old parchments, and an old faded book written in older kannada script, these had no punctuations as we know them today.”Pick up the one that is wrapped in red cotton, and read it, aloud.”
The next week was a voyage that I did not expect. I knew his study hour was between 3.30 am and 5.30, I would read the parchment and book alternately at his instructions.
It was the right to passage of who we were and where we came from. Why I could see death in people’s eyes, and why I would have physical wounds when nature was destroyed. End of the week, he told me, now unwrap the deer skin parchment, when I did there were the most beautiful crystals that I ever saw.
Papa smiled “Lemurian crystals-”
I was never a crystal person, suddenly the emergence of these crystals it was amazing.
“For the next twenty one days, meditate with these crystals in your palm. Place the moonstone that I got for your Ajmer at the head of your bedstead and your journey will begin.”
First day of meditation, came with lot of nightmares, and then came intolerable head ache then the secret of the soul journey…
The souls who decided to play, the core inner soul in each of us, the supporting cast in the angels realm. All in the earth school,
The collective souls who could take forms and turn formless effortlessly, then the first presence of the collective consciousness, the rose quartz form, or the crystal form…
Then came the great vibration shift and the second form as plants and trees, the illusion of split and the concept of death. The calm terrain and unthreatened existence. Till the next great shift.
The third level of consciousness emerged as the animal kingdom with its fight, flight response, the emergence of a predator and hierarchy
The journey had now taken on the hue of differentiation for power and terror and made its presence felt with predatory. And the cycle of Karma began as the animal had evolved to man.
The book then spoke of the journey of the soul through the four yugas, the journey into the 5th dimension of the dimension of the mind, the 6th dimension of the ascended master.
Twenty one days of meditation, and Papa had moved on, leaving with me a legacy, of the knowledge of Lemuria, and the responsibility to guide whoever needed to move on to the next dimension. With each soul’s journeys… my consciousness, evolving further.
The legacy of the Shaman’s the lessons from the crystals, the understanding that the universe prepares us to receive knowledge and then guides us to apply that knowledge.
The crystals, the book are back in the suitcase, my journey as the torch bearer I record, I know the next shaman is being groomed, when the time comes I shall hand the heritage and move on. Till then each day the crystal shares a secret, a knowledge sometimes guiding mostly energizing.
I knew now why my family was associated with the snakes, I was the descendent of the record keepers of Lemuria, the snake people, were the keepers of those memories and the crystals were the records handed from one keeper to the next, each keeper was a channel who would deliver the knowledge mankind required at that moment and then moved on for the next keeper to come.
“I am participating in this creative activity organised by makers ofThe Path of Zarathustra in association with BlogAdda.” in their blog post.
The Druid
“When will his health improve?”
The look that the acharya gave me, I shall never forget in my life, may be it the look the butcher has before the Halal.
“You, who are so precise you are not even in a position to tell me his birth star, does that not say anything to you?”
I knew what was coming next yet I took a deep breath, and asked, “My mind does not answer me any longer.”
“A soul that is gone, is calling him, and he cannot let you go, it is not about your mother or brother it is you, he is here only for you. Let him go”
“What did the joisha tell you?”Was my mother’s query
What do I tell her…I am the cause of his suffering…or do I say I am here to let him go? Slowly I went into the room, sat by papa. He was not very expressive with words but somehow he did make sure that he got the message across.
He smiled, when I went in.
“Papa, I can’t let you go”
“So, you did visit Kadaba”
“Yes”
“You know now, I am worried about how you will handle”
“Handle what”
“Joishru helallilava…. from your expression he didn’t have the courage to tell you the truth.”
“What, truth”
“You are my successor; your journey begins now… You see it cannot begin until I leave, and I cannot leave until you let me leave”
The whole thing seemed so strange and it was despite his pain he was clear in thought and stronger between us.
“maga, the first two years after I go will be very strange, things and people will appear in your space, things and people will disappear. Get the red VIP suitcase”
“Open it” he said when I got the suitcase down, it had an old parchment. It then flashed for an aggressively private person; he had no private space in the house. Maybe the table that he worked on nothing else. The open suitcase told me another story. There were old parchments, and an old faded book written in older kannada script, these had no punctuations as we know them today.”Pick up the one that is wrapped in red cotton, and read it, aloud.”
The next week was a voyage that I did not expect. I knew his study hour was between 3.30 am and 5.30, I would read the parchment and book alternately at his instructions.
It was the right to passage of who we were and where we came from. Why I could see death in people’s eyes, and why I would have physical wounds when nature was destroyed. End of the week, he told me, now unwrap the deer skin parchment, when I did there were the most beautiful crystals that I ever saw.
Papa smiled “Lemurian crystals-”
I was never a crystal person, suddenly the emergence of these crystals it was amazing.
“For the next twenty one days, meditate with these crystals in your palm. Place the moonstone that I got for your Ajmer at the head of your bedstead and your journey will begin.”
First day of meditation, came with lot of nightmares, and then came intolerable head ache then the secret of the soul journey…
The souls who decided to play, the core inner soul in each of us, the supporting cast in the angels realm. All in the earth school,
The collective souls who could take forms and turn formless effortlessly, then the first presence of the collective consciousness, the rose quartz form, or the crystal form…
Then came the great vibration shift and the second form as plants and trees, the illusion of split and the concept of death. The calm terrain and unthreatened existence. Till the next great shift.
The third level of consciousness emerged as the animal kingdom with its fight, flight response, the emergence of a predator and hierarchy
The journey had now taken on the hue of differentiation for power and terror and made its presence felt with predatory. And the cycle of Karma began as the animal had evolved to man.
The book then spoke of the journey of the soul through the four yugas, the journey into the 5th dimension of the dimension of the mind, the 6th dimension of the ascended master.
Twenty one days of meditation, and Papa had moved on, leaving with me a legacy, of the knowledge of Lemuria, and the responsibility to guide whoever needed to move on to the next dimension. With each soul’s journeys… my consciousness, evolving further.
The legacy of the Shaman’s the lessons from the crystals, the understanding that the universe prepares us to receive knowledge and then guides us to apply that knowledge.
The crystals, the book are back in the suitcase, my journey as the torch bearer I record, I know the next shaman is being groomed, when the time comes I shall hand the heritage and move on. Till then each day the crystal shares a secret, a knowledge sometimes guiding mostly energizing.
I knew now why my family was associated with the snakes, I was the descendent of the record keepers of Lemuria, the snake people, were the keepers of those memories and the crystals were the records handed from one keeper to the next, each keeper was a channel who would deliver the knowledge mankind required at that moment and then moved on for the next keeper to come.
“I am participating in this creative activity organised by makers ofThe Path of Zarathustra in association with BlogAdda.” in their blog post.
Graphite loons ay mah life.
The prompt of the week – if my life had a background score which songs and music will be in it..
When I read this prompt without reflecting, the first thing that came to me was, then https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NXQ9pvy024c I realized this was my comfort song, something that helps me cross the stream.
To me a background score, it’s very different from life song or the soul song.
A background score is that pattern, that thought, that inspiration that stays throughout it is present and manifests in many ways it is what I would call as the learning or the experience that we are here to experience in the earth school, .
Everyone has adventures in their lives, some good ones and some bad ones, these are like tick marks in a pattern. It is stable for a while, and then it takes a ditch not because we are meant to be upset, but because we are meant to move on to the next level and we need to lean back and jump. Life is like an analog signal it has its high and lows.
It is like the first cycle with a 90 degree rise.
Others life look like normal sign curve. They are lining a simple life with no trouble. The noise, the sounds they are audible only when look closer. They have enough stuff that they need to pull themselves through.
I used to get upset that I am not anything, I’m done with life has been an recurrent theme… the back ground score… but then it healed and I learnt, I was quite surprised to hear that there were many others who wanted to be in my place and others who quite counted on me.
I realized that the background score was the score that supported the soul music. And soul music was all about longevity and reaching people on a human level—that would remain through eternity.
Incidentally soul music was popular music genre that originated in the 1950’s and early 1960. It combined elements of African-American gospel music rhythm and blues and jazz.
The background score slowly makes itself heard on soft moments of introspection or still, it is heard as a difference in sound, imagine sitting on a fire step waiting for- someone or something, just let yourself experience the space, and you can hear the music of the tins, the empty ones that sonorous, the fuller ones that provide the ascending scale those filled to the brim producing only a fat percussive beat unless they are overbalanced, the cascade would be loud variation. With earshot we perceive scores of tins in different states of fullness and varying resonance. Now hear the wire moving in the wind, it sets up a moaning background noise that occasionally gusts to prominence, then lapses again to mere accompaniment. This is precisely how I figured that my soul music, back ground score was like this, and was best captured by tp://www.saavn.com/p/song/tamil/Chittibabu-Wedding-Bells-Veena/Fond-Memories-Chittibabu/NwIiB0JARns
The rhythm the score is so familiar, and in tune, so I say https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4069PUk3aM0
Laundry and life lessons.
Does sharing a load within the house hold lead to happier and better quality of household, of course it does, but it is just one part of the story. More I think is about acceptance and acknowledgement.
Lets look at the very scenario that that the prompt talks about, the husband gets ready and the wife is not ready since she has work to finish. Well this looks like scene right out of a Hindi movie or an ancient women’s era story where sister Sita is a focused house frau, and hence the marriage is strained, and sister Rita trots along and teaches her how to balance, home and husband.
Sure enough works fine. But ladies, we are now on the second level of the challenge…. balancing the house, and work. With all our visuals being bombarded by the set designers of the TV and Hindi movie scenario we seem to have some rather warped concept of living spaces. The cruellest irony of housework, people only notice when you don’t do it.
Sunday’s for me became a day of celebrating with self pity and victimization. My husband would be busy with his work, and kids with their friends. The ultimate declaration of my oppression was the festival of holi, food had to be ready, and there was the clause that cooking had to done after a bath. That meant, washing up after 12 noon, and then cooking lunch mind you a festive one at that, the traditional puri-mithai wallah. The drama went on till I accepted that the secret of surviving housework is simply to do it. pull the plug on the part of my brain that always want to negotiate everything. You need to change a diaper rinse a bottle, clean a spill, fluff a pillow? Consider it done. It’s a no brainer. End of conversation, end of story. It meant not postponing chores-and spending any mental energy equivocating, temporizing or stalling- it is actually a lot more restful than worrying about what needs to be done.
All the same the deep sense of not being acknowledged was hurting. Then I had my burns accident. The seven months taught me that I was not indispensable, life went on, the things that had to done miraculously got reallocated. And hallelujah the lesson of life, I am not indispensable, and my family does know to chip in, when needed. So what stopped them all the my revelation two—I ,me and myself this was such a shock, and an ego deflator, my halo no longer fitted me. i had kind of become like a person who took control and that did not feel very pleasant.
The third revelation came here, the car washing, the scooter washing which was hard labour, all that was done by my husband. Well it was not as if he did not help in the house work just as my part was taken for granted his work was taken for granted too.
The fourth was revelation was I never asked for help so none came, the exercise in delegation, and was a hard one, and then there is always this issue of my way and your way, it is even harder to accept that there could be another way of doing things that is just as efficient as mine if not more.
Getting one daughter to load the washing machine, and the other the dry the clothes. Getting one daughter to lay the table and the other clean up. Small things to make wrapping house work faster.
It was not just about getting the family help, it was also about letting the family help. It was about balancing the structure. letting my daughters or husband buy the vegetable did not mean that I get disempowered, it means that their energy is getting invested in the family, from a polarized, I and You we move to the zone of us.
Life lessons mwah mwah sweetie laundry loading—absolutely top hole—have to say.!!
“I am writing for the #ShareTheLoad activity at BlogAdda.com in association withAriel.”
https://parwatisingari.wordpress.com/2015/01/18/fa-diz-th-grottie-linen/
The Phoenix Rises.
#startanewlife
Phoenix is bird that emerges from its own ashes; I have been burnt thrice now I am threatened for the fourth time. But I am the phoenix and my new song begins.
Ever looked at butterfly emerging out of a cocoon, it looks so painful, the wings that un-crumble if I may use the word, out of the wrapping, the creased wings then seem to lift. That pain probably is breaking out of the comfort zone. Each level there is one, our skill takes us to different markets, these markets making towns as we traverse, and towns travelled create countries. Only when we get longer travel, these countries reside like artefacts, in our memories.
At 50 I don’t talk of a bold step my life would be full of bold steps, like leaving the secure hometown and known hospital for an unknown town. Marriage another new beginning. The birth of my daughter, but here I had slipped into the comfortable role being a mother and forgetting my own professional training. Then came the next comfort zone, starting my own practise, venturing out each time, with a new idea.
I am now with another set of challenges, so how do I start all over. I wonder if I am old, and cannot travel, those countries are now artefacts in my head. In retrospect the long winding journey now leading to nothing, it was once beautiful along the way it once enticed us to travel but not forever
I wonder if the time has come when we nothing more to sell – probably we have seen too much – bowed too many gods heard too many people swear by them. Maybe our judgements and sanctuaries gone making other travellers sit up and notice, probably scare them too.
Maybe it is better to stop before we lose our way; again not all wanderers are lost. Our tracks have disappeared, into the sands; those tracks that we see are those of who lost their souls so we need to return home.
The bazaars are still there, others are buying and selling, goods have changed with time and new merchants grow up to serve new goods that are vended.
I have gone through the cycle of depression, and why me, what is the worst that can happen etc. I had to put down my non-negotiable. Those commitments that have the first call on my time. My primary need is flexibility which my clinical practise does not allow me. That calls for moving into a group practise.
For a person who worked solo suddenly getting into the currents of group dynamics is scary. But funnily I realized, when I say my Monday is committed to theatre class, everyone accepts including my patients. It is just about getting out of the box and putting things on a paper.
The excitement has begun life is happening and I am part of it, there is a plan, and my work is planned, all I have to do is work my plan without getting distracted. Thanks https://housing.com/ for bringing me back to action. The thrill of the unknown, the adrenaline rush of risk taking. The fascination of planning, the challenge of breaking into a new community it is nothing short of transplantation. When one is starting life we are open to transplants but at this stage it is rather a challenge.
The gift of this journey
“Actually I don’t remember being born, it must have happened during one of my black outs.”
We were practising age regression in our hypnotherapy class, it was quite interesting. Many of our batch mates went into foetal stages.
Then came a watsap message that was a conversation between two foetuses about life after birth or life out of the womb.
That brought me to the question, why don’t we remember?
One of the seekers that I met said, that there is gift not remember who we are when we are born into this lifetime; the gift is the journey.
There was this bodiless moment, just before anaesthesia, another time when I was totally lost in the rhythm of the rustling leaves, I wondered if this was the same. The feeling of being incredibly light and unrestricted in our movement. The experience of being one with great expanse? Is that the time before we incarnated into a human body?
There could be many possible reasons for deep forgetting, maybe if we did remember it would impinge on our ability to fully commit ourselves to this life. may be being here without any memory of an alternate experience allows to be here completely such that we can learn what we are here to learn. Wonder if this preoccupation with concerns beyond the realm of this lifetime is really meant be? May be our job is to occupy our bodies and our planet with a fullness that would not be possible if we were constantly aware of another and extremely different realm of existence.
Maybe forgetting other levels of being protects us from a confused and divided experience. Maybe there is no alternate experience at all.
“After all, what’s a life, anyway? We’re born, we live a little while, we die.”
― E.B. White, Charlotte’s Web
The tools we have.
At the landmark coach Gopal Sarma used to say, that unless we get down to action, all our skills, and talents are but thoughting that is thoughts that cause stagnation and not growth.
“You have a destiny and a purpose that no one else on this earth can fulfil…and you have travelled a unique journey that has equipped you along the way with the tools you need to carry it out.”
― Mandy Hale, The Single Woman: Life, Love, and a Dash of Sass
Think of this, every crafts person has a tool box full of tools and knows number of techniques to help them bring an inspiration to form. This is the same for our lives; we discover our own life tools and techniques the ways and means that have helped us create our lives to this point. When do get blocked we need to look at what is the tool that we have and we are not using. It is about rediscovering a tool that we already have at our disposal.
I remember writing a journal in the night it took care of my negativity. But when I realized that writing the journal at night also was experiencing the negativity again, I shifted to gratitude pages at night. I had the tool of transcendental meditation too.
The intention of a tool is what it does, like a hammer intends to strike, a vies intends to hold fast, a lever intends to lift, that is what it is made for. But sometimes a tool may have other uses that we don’t know. There are times when we do what we intend we also do what the knife intends without knowing. Once, we start recognizing the truth of our story and finish the story. Things happened, but we are still here, we are still capable, powerful we are not our circumstances. Things happened and we made it through. We are still fully equipped with every single tool we need to fulfil our purpose.
Our ideas need to implement with the energy of our engagement with them. It might sound obvious, but very often we are only thinking and reading about the idea and not putting it down to practise. Nothing will work unless it is implemented.
It is best to have our tools with us no doubt, but I also realized when we don’t we‘re apt to find something we didn’t expect and get discouraged. All the same, we have the opportunity each day to transcend from a disempowered mindset of existence to an empowered reality of purpose driven living. Today is a new day that has been handed to us for shaping. We have the tools let’s now get out there and create a masterpiece
