Re: Sweetness-Smile and Thunder-Drum
- Thank you to Priyadarshan, Sumangali, Sharani, Nicholas, Nirmala,
Durga-Mata, Tejvan, Abhinabha, Kaushalya, Doris and Purnakama for all
I'm torn between accepting your comments graciously, and protesting
that you make me sound too special...
It's not about me, it's about the boundless love that Sri Chinmoy has
for all of us, including the runners bravely challenging unimaginable
distance with his help.
I found Sumangali's pen simile charming, but I don't want to be Guru's
favourite pen (if that was implied). In fact, I don't think he *has* a
favourite. I think he's always ready to speak, write, sing, play, run,
swim and dance through each of us. We are like flowers in his
heart-garden. On a particular day one flower blooms, tomorrow
another... I suppose I'm thinking of the group Blue Flower and their
beautiful CD "Blossoming."
Sumangali, you like the nib of a certain pen. But suppose you were
thinking of one word, and found that the pen wrote a different word?
Or suppose out of a sentence or paragraph, the pen captured some words
but not others? Suppose you were writing in proper English, but the
pen was turning everything into Cockney rhyming slang? (Though I
suppose some function reports could do with a bit more chitty-chitty
However fine the nib, you would probably discard that pen in favour of
a better writing instrument.
I think we are none of us perfect instruments. I am sometimes not fit
for service, so I'm very grateful for times when I've been able to
faithfully take dictation. If I can do it, anyone can! It just takes
love, quietude, and a practiced hand at getting words on paper. These
are qualities that anyone can cultivate, and which many people already
I don't think Guru is partial or has favourites. That might lead to
jealousy. Such a prolific author as our Master needs many pens in
working order; and any time someone knocks at his heart's door with
devotion, he is only too happy to speak with them, bless them, and
illumine them. This he does in a unique way for each person according
to what capacities they have developed, and according to their crying
Recently, there was a thread discussing poet-songwriter Leonard Cohen.
I suppose his best known song is "Suzanne," a snippet of which goes:
And Jesus was a sailor
When he walked upon the water
And he spent a long time watching
From his lonely wooden tower
And when he knew for certain
Only drowning men could see him
He said "All men will be sailors then
Until the sea shall free them..."
It is just poetry. But I like the line "Only drowning men could see
him." Just as you cannot know the height of others' vision, you cannot
know the depths of their despair. Will you envy a drowning man?
Maybe Sumangali will know what I mean if I say that sometimes I find
it easy to write, but difficult to be the writer. Sometimes bringing
it outward and sharing it in a public forum can be "excruciating" (to
use her word). I try and learn from her bravery in continuing to "get
back on the horse." (See her message #22316.)
I don't want to run myself down nor inflate my capacities. But I think
other poets would understand that the clarity of a poem may be
hard-won, and may rise to the surface from a life filled with
confusion - like mushrooms springing up from the manure. We can
appreciate a poem as a moment of perfect clarity, yet recognize that -
in my case - the poet has teeming imperfections and is not a person to
As Durga-Mata implied a few months ago, poets and visionaries are not
always the best role models around an ashram. There are people who
quietly do the right thing at each moment in their lives who make
better role models. They may not communicate grand visions, they may
not draw attention to themselves, but their daily service is what
makes Guru's Mission possible. Or to paraphrase a popular book title:
After poetry, the laundry!
You can say that from a life filled with desperate useless activity, I
sometimes tire of my own foolishness and am ready to listen to a Voice
that is all perfection. That Voice is worth emulating, but not the
poet himself, not the messenger.
How do you save someone's life? Give them a job to do. Make them feel
it is indispensible. Even if it is only a small job, a messenger's
job. Maybe that is Sri Chinmoy's way of saving my life. He has done it
for thousands of others - as Congressman Ackerman might say: the weak
and the strong, the rich and the poor.
To all these earthly identities, Sri Chinmoy is like an angel who
holds a bright key. William Blake writes:
The Chimney Sweeper
When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue
Could scarcely cry 'weep! 'weep! 'weep! 'weep!
So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep.
There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head,
That curled like a lamb's back, was shaved: so I said,
"Hush, Tom! never mind it, for when your head's bare,
You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair."
And so he was quiet; and that very night,
As Tom was a-sleeping, he had such a sight, -
That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack,
Were all of them locked up in coffins of black.
And by came an angel who had a bright key,
And he opened the coffins and set them all free;
Then down a green plain leaping, laughing, they run,
And wash in a river, and shine in the sun.
Then naked and white, all their bags left behind,
They rise upon clouds and sport in the wind;
And the angel told Tom, if he'd be a good boy,
He'd have God for his father, and never want joy.
And so Tom awoke; and we rose in the dark,
And got with our bags and our brushes to work.
Though the morning was cold, Tom was happy and warm;
So if all do their duty they need not fear harm.
from Songs of Innocence, by William Blake
I Am An Idiot
I know I am an idiot true.
In the growing clouds my hopeful feet,
Hands flung skywards for the blue stars.
My throes no sun, no moon, shall greet.
I had a dream, a real dream:
God would bury Himself to live
In human ignorance hungry and black,
To human death His Soul He'd give.
from My Flute, by Sri Chinmoy
Two Unborn Dreams
I long for the blossoming
Of two unborn dreams.
I wish to fly
From life to death
To change the face and fate of earth
In the world of death.
I wish to fly
From earth-failure to Heaven-triumph
To change the sorrows and pangs of God
In the world of man.
from The Golden Boat, Part 9, by Sri Chinmoy
He also writes:
Where is death?
Where is death?
Every day a new life.
from the song "Kothai Moran" as perforfmed by Shindhu
As each new day dawns, the field is wide open for anyone who wants to
receive and manifest the Master's light. If anything, my poems prove
that the Master does *not* play favourites, and that all may try and
(on certain days) succeed! As Nirmila said: "This Marathon-Talk with
our Master is also without an ending."
--- In Sri_Chinmoy_Inspiration@yahoogroups.com, purnakama2000
> I am all gratitude to your soulful expression.
- Dear Durga-Mata,
I'm so glad that you were along for the journey on this poem.
I think Sri Chinmoy's philosophy is that we should not only claim his
realisation as our own, we should also claim each other's achievements
as our own.
If you look at me as an individual, I am very flawed, limited. But
still, once in a blue moon I manage to do something good, like write a
poem that reflects the Master's light. When I share this with others,
I hope it is not all showing off, but rather adding my light to the
sum of light.
We are all stars in Guru's heart-sky. Each of us twinkles in our own
way. When we shine together, we illumine the night sky.
I think Guru likes me to share these poems because some people may be
helped by them, even though they know I'm not a role model in the
spiritual life - just a "crazy poet" at heart. One can forget about
the poet and let the poetry work its magic. Then, even though it is
not coming directly from Guru, even though it is one step removed -
written by another's hand - at times you may feel it is his
thought-stream being expressed. Perhaps on rare occasions Guru likes
to perform this kind of miracle to strengthen people's faith. As
Kaushalya said so beautifully:
"There is no use trying to run away from the pain which sometimes
feels like a deep, sharp wound. The pain invites us to take the
journey into the Divine, make the quantum leap, gradually or quickly,
as is possible, to honestly explore what we can each do in order to
live divinely. Guru always said that we get joy only by crossing
hurdles - and this is a most demanding hurdle, which Guru would
probably say is the greatest opportunity."
So in one way it is not surprising at all that Guru would help some of
us find the words to ease the crossing of that hurdle.
I don't understand it all myself. The human in me tries to cope with
the burden and strangeness of it. But these poems give me joy. They
also help me try to be a better person. I think there's a tacit
understanding that in these poems, it's my responsibility to identify
with all the disciples and ask questions which come from their hearts,
their daily struggles.
In Guru's stories, sometimes there is a kind of "archetypal disciple"
who is not any one person, but who represents the ideals, aspirations,
cares and concerns of all the disciples. In these dialogue poems, I
know intuitively that is the person I must be. (Tejvan, maybe that's
why you feel so much a part of the dialogue.)
So it's not about me at all; therefore, there is no reason for anyone
to feel jealous. After all, as Abhinabha suggested, if Sri Chinmoy is
the ventriloquist, then I am just the wooden dummy!
Durga-Mata, I don't always post everything I write down. Some things,
I feel, might be too boring or didactic. I remember there was another
poem (message #22112), where you felt troubled by these lines:
"Son, since I left the physical,
So many people have seen me vividly
In the inner world.
It is not their mental hallucination,
It is their true spiritual experience
Founded on aspiration."
This poem sets up a dramatic situation. There is a disciple who is
upset over the physical death of his Master. He says he sometimes
feels blind and lost. He uses the phrase "hopelessness-life." The
Master tries to console him and strengthen his faith. It is meant kindly.
The Master explains (in effect): "Well, if you are spiritually dead
then I will be a dead Guru to you. But if you aspire, I will be your
living Guru, I will speak constantly inside your Aspiration-Heart."
This message is all love and compassion, but at the same time it asks
the disciple to raise his aspiration. (Sound like anyone you know?)
There is a passage from Sri Chinmoy Answers, Part 9. There he gives
all kinds of advice on how one can visualise him:
"Now, you have seen me millions of times. If you want to see me when I
am not physically present, for inspiration, just imagine, 'My Guru is
right in front of me.' Imagination is not mental hallucination. Never!
Imagination is a world of its own. Imagination is reality, but we have
to bring it down to the physical plane. First we bring imagination
down, and then it becomes concrete. When I write a poem, when I
compose a song, when I create anything, it comes from that
"When you go back to New York, I may be in Singapore or somewhere
else, but try to imagine that I am standing right in front of you.
What is wrong with it? It is not mental hallucination. If I have a
dear one in my life, whether it is my mother or my father or somebody
else, I want to see that person. True, I may not be able to see him
right now with my physical eyes, but with my inner eye, with my inner
feeling, I can easily imagine that person to be in front of me. Then,
let me make that person very real, very concrete in my life...
"So in your case I am telling you, even if you are physically away
from me, if I am in one country and you are in another, you can easily
feel that I am standing right in front of you. There is one disciple
whose name I do not want to say, but she is an elderly lady. O God!
She says that wherever I go, or wherever she moves, from this room to
that room and another room, always she sees me, she feels me. Now,
where is her city, and where is New York? She is not in New York.
Perhaps I will never in this lifetime see that person on the physical
plane. Never, never! But it is not her mental hallucination. Only on
the strength of imagination, everywhere she sees me right in front of
her, beside her - everywhere."
But he does not say that this lady is better than anyone else, or that
others are bad or unaspiring because they do not see him. He is only
trying inspire people.
Durga-Mata, you mentioned your dreams... Recently, an article by
Vidagdha was published in a Sufi magazine. She wrote it soon after
October 11. It is not about Sufism, and not much about Guru's
philosophy. It is a very beautiful personal account of her
discipleship, and her feelings in the immediate aftermath of his
passing. She writes:
"It is very difficult for me to express in words what my Guru Sri
Chinmoy meant to me and shall forever mean to me. Three weeks after
his earth-departure, there are days when I wander aimlessly, repeating
'My Guru is no more, my Guru is no more.' At such times, no philosophy
in the world, however profound, can assuage the pain in my heart or
halt the flow of my tears. Wherever I cast my eyes, all the color and
light seem to have gone out of the world. I can see people going about
their daily lives and I wonder how they can continue, how I can
continue. Life seems to be unreal, meaningless.
"But then, unexpectedly, something happens. Guru's infinite peace
steals into my heart; I am surrounded by his vibration. In my mind, I
hear his voice; the outer world is alive with hints of his nearness.
And in my dreams, he is ever-present."
How Guru reveals himself to others - whether sweetly and formlessly as
peace; or in a powerful, vivid form; or as a strong poetic voice - is
very personal. One person will be pleased and not frightened if he
comes to them in a certain way and not some other way.
I think the Guru has to be so careful. He tries to please and court
our heart and soul, but he does not want to frighten our physical mind
or vital consciousness, which may rebel.
The mind and vital use only a small portion of the light of the
Divine; but they like to feel they are boss, they are in control. So
if Guru comes to us in too powerful a form, the mind and vital may
feel like they are being directly challenged, and they may stage a
revolt. But if Guru works gently by stealing into our hearts with
peace and joy, this preserves harmony in the inner family, while we
continue to grow daily in devotion. Therefore, we should not be upset
if he does not present himself vividly.
On the one hand, bhakti yoga - the yoga of love and devotion to God -
is said to be the easiest path. On the other hand, it can try our
hearts. As human beings, there can be moments when we are reduced to
begging or threatening God. We feel we have given all that we can and
still he is not giving us his Nectar - still he is torturing our
hearts, playing hide-and-seek. The struggles of the bhakta are
expressed with unparalleled charm and intensity in this song by Sri
Swapane Parash Diye Jao Priya Jagile
You touch me softly and compassionately
O Beloved of my dream.
The moment I awake I see You hiding far,
very far from my vision light.
When I roam on the peak of the mountain
You I see lost in self life.
When I call You to come near me,
Smiling You run away.
O my Beloved Supreme, by deceiving me always
Do You really get joy?
Anyway, in your dream when you say, 'Guru, I want to realise you,' I
don't take that as arrogance. I think it's more like a child
expressing spontaneous oneness with her Father. "What You are, I want
As for the other dream at the end of your message, I think many
disciples share the same simple prayer: "Guru, don't let me forget
you, don't let me lose you." After all, we see that both through the
ignorance of the world, and the serious blunders people sometimes
commit, it is possible for them to become forgetful or blind.
When people memorise the Master's writings, sing his songs, invoke his
consciousness, serve his Mission, and develop close friendships with
fellow disciples, they are forging karmic ties that will help them not
only in this lifetime, but in future lifetimes to find their way back
to this path.
It is said that your thoughts at time of death will dictate your
afterlife and future birth. But you cannot easily choose what you will
think at time of death! It will be what you thought about your whole
life. Therefore, when you are fortunate to meet a great Master like
Sri Chinmoy, it is being said to fill your whole life with thoughts of
P.S. I really admire people who know all the names of the different
flowers. As a lifelong city boy, that is something I never learned.
Durga-Mata, I think you could even give Tolkien a run for his money!
--- In Sri_Chinmoy_Inspiration@yahoogroups.com, dmchaudhurani
> What a joy. What a wonder.
> It is 18th June, more than a week since I have had access to a
> computer and internet. I drove home to London tonight from Birmingham
> after an exhausting 'long weekend.' I set out for the journey a little
> before 5pm to miss the traffic but before I reached the motorway I was
> simply falling asleep with tiredness. I stopped in a layby and slept
> for two hours.
> The first part of the journey was lovely with evening light bright on
> light-green fields where hay had been cut and all the myriad greens of
> the different trees tossing and swaying in the wind. It is June, the
> month of roses and the pink wild roses are cascading over the
> hedgerows in profusion. The elder flowers are also in full bloom with
> their creamy-white flat discs of tiny flowers arranged like
> dinner-plates all over the bushes. They are fragrant and taste
> delicious. (You can dip them in batter and fry them but my mother has
> a great recipe for elder-flower cordial which combines them with
> lemons. She usually chases us around at this time of year to pick them
> for her - but this year they are so prolific she says she has enough
> just from the hedges in her own garden.)
> Last time I drove on this route was in early May when the white
> hawthorn blossom was out. It is also called May blossom. The hawthorn
> trees are very slow growing and many are very ancient. They have a
> strong link with pre-Christian spirituality and are also called fairy
> trees so perhaps the leprechauns keep their crocks of gold buried in
> their shade.
> Last time I drove this route the hedges were laced with hawthorn
> blossom and the verges deep in Queen Anne's Lace which is a delicate
> white umbelifera. There were meadows full of buttercups and cows (that
> had not gone straying in the woods.) There were bright fields of
> yellow oil-seed rape and the cornfields were just like grass. That
> time of year is so intense with growth and blossoming it is almost
> like an explosion. Since then the white horse-chestnut-tree candles,
> the pink, white and purple lilac, the yellow laburnam, the sweet
> scented linden or lime blossom, and all the spring flowers have come
> and gone. Now the oil-seed fields are greyish-green with only a
> scattering of their last flowers showing still in odd corners - and
> the cornfields are bristling with swelling blue-green wheat-ears. The
> barley fields are lighter yellow-green, the flowering heads with their
> long whiskers are arched over and just starting to change colour.
> The banks of the motorway are rich in many hues, the ox-eye daisies
> are still dominant but their snow-drifts are often mingled with other
> flowers, a deep-yellow vetch mingles and in places transforms the
> banks to gold, shining red poppies grow from cracks and crevicies in
> stone walls that border the motorway in places and the soft and
> subtle shades of many different flowering grasses grace the verges
> everywhere. There is one called 'Yorkshire Fog' that is quite a strong
> shade of pink. Others are tall and silvery as they sway in the wind
> and some are deep red-maroon - almost purple as they hang out their
> stamens in flower.
> The sun set slowly, in and out of cloud which streaked a busy sky but
> I was driving east so I could only admire the sunset-clouds as they
> lit up with shades of pink and mauve in the mirror. I turned off on
> the road that heads west (to link the M40 with the M4) hoping to see
> the last of the sunset glory but by that time it had almost faded from
> sky so I was feeling a bit sad. But then, quite unexpectedly, I saw
> the moon. It was a full moon, just rising. The sky behind the moon was
> a clear blue merging into a band of softest pink. The moon was white,
> like a cloud. But as I continued on the journey the blue deepened and
> the moon brightened, smiling at me in its shining way. It was like a
> friend who had come to walk with me on the last part of the journey
> because they saw I was tired and my spirits were down.
> If I had known the M4 was closed for repairs I would not have chosen
> that route - nose-to-tail traffic for miles ... and miles ... (who
> would choose to live in London?) It was nearly 11pm by the time I
> reached home. I was very glad to get in. I was thinking that as soon
> as I'd had a drink and a bite to eat I would get straight to bed. But
> now at 2.00 am I am still up, still going strong. I thought I would
> just read the latest postings over my supper - but all the great
> stories called to me. As usual I was completely re-freshed and
> re-inspired by Inspiration site.
> I have watched Kedar's video about the wonderful running Nun and read
> all the postings from the past week with great enjoyment. But my
> favourite message has to be yours Michael. And, thanks to my own
> dream-meditation experience, (which I wrote about in
> 'Gratitude-Blossoms 8 of Daisies and Dreams)I was able to embrace your
> sweet and inspiring 'conversation' without any 'emotional
> cross-currents this time.' Your insights and poem-conversations really
> are a blessing to us all. I will just expand on some personal
> favourite passages:
> .....Father, forgive me. But about Your messengers...
> "Yes, My son?"
> Some people say they are bringing messages from You. Should I believe
> "It entirely depends. If My consciousness is there, if your heart
> tells you it is genuine, and it does not contradict My teachings, then
> there is no harm in it. But do not place too much faith in messengers.
> Realize Me for yourself. Then no one can deceive you......"
> This links so closely with the 'message' I had in my dream. In it I
> said, 'Guru, I want to realise you.' When I sensed this message from
> my dream, part of me felt that it was arrogant in the extreme to think
> that my soul could be speaking to Guru about that and even though I
> knew in my heart that it was true I hesitated to share it in a post
> because I thought it would sound as if I was arrogant. I thought it
> would sound as if I was claiming to be somehow a specially 'good'
> disciple or 'high soul'. I had so many conflicting emotions. If
> Kamalakanta had not posted what Guru wrote about imagination and
> realisation I would never have had the confidence to override my
> doubts and insecurities and share it.
> That brings me to another part of your 'conversation' which I find
> particularly helpful:
> ..........Father, if someone brings a message from You, does that mean
> they are
> a high soul?
> "No, not at all. It just means I have a little Compassion for that
> person. Someone brings a message from Me. But how many other messages
> have they ignored or disobeyed? I can work even through your
> impurities. So if someone brings a message, that does not prove they
> are a high soul.........."
> I share the following special prayer and insight with a great sense of
> oneness and gratitude for the beautiful way that you express it:
> ..........Father, when I first sensed Your inner presence, I was so
> overjoyed I
> wanted to pray to You never to leave me. But now You have given me
> Wisdom-Light, so my prayer will be different.
> "What is your prayer, My son?"
> I pray that You will open my eyes, open the eyes of my brothers and
> sisters, open the eyes of the world, so that we know You are with us,
> know You are for us, and know You could never, ever leave us.
> "My son, please allow Me the fullness of time to grant your
> And finally a nice anecdote that relates to your 'easier prayer:'
> .........Father, I realize it is a big request. May I make an easier
> "Son, what is your easier prayer?"
> I pray that You will never let me forget You, whatever happens in my
> Some years ago Keitan produced the Christ-Play in New York. My son was
> in it and my husband went to New York after Celebrations to see the
> play. It was the only time he went to New York and most significant
> for our family. 'Amazingly' a disciple-friend of mine was going
> through a tough time and when I said she should go to New York - even
> if she could only get away for a weekend - she asked if I would go
> with her and paid for me - so I was able to be with my husband and
> Bijon at Guru's Feet during that special visit. The weekend 'just
> happened' to be our wedding anniversary, too. Guru is so perfect with
> the 'games' he plays.
> When I came home I was absolutely full of joy but then, when my son
> and my husband returned and I learned that they had flown back in the
> same plane as Guru and had enjoyed some quite wonderful experiences
> both at Aspiration Ground - when Guru meditated on my husband and gave
> him a big red rose - and at the airport when there were no other
> disciples there and they had been able to speak to Guru in a unique
> way, I started to have some problems of jealousy.
> I fought and fought my jealousy all through that day, just throwing
> out the thoughts and emotions each time they arose, reminding myself
> of the many blessings I had received, crying to Guru to help me and
> take all the undivine thoughts and emotions - but they were too strong
> for me to overcome.
> I guess most of us have sometimes felt a great longing to be able to
> go up to Guru and talk to him in an outer way. I knew that he had
> spoken like that to my husband and if I could feel true oneness I
> could share in his experience but I just couldn't do it.
> I knew that Guru was constantly trying to teach me to go within and
> develop the inner connection which is unlimited by time and space -
> but I couldn't do it.
> I knew that jealousy is one of the worst undivine qualities - but I
> couldn't overcome it. I was reminding myself constantly of all the
> blessings he had given to me and cursing my ingratitude - but by the
> end of a day of constant inner battles - which I lost - I was just in
> floods of tears.
> That night I had a mundane dream the details of which I have long
> forgotten - but at one point in it I was sitting in some kind of
> auditorium. It was a bit like a cinema with seats in rows that stepped
> up so the seats behind were higher up than those you were sitting on.
> Suddenly I turned round in my seat and found that Guru was sitting
> exactly behind me. There were no other disciples anywhere in the
> crowded auditorium.
> I was so overjoyed and excited to see Guru sitting there that I jumped
> up in my seat, turning round and kneeling on it, facing backwards and
> just gazing at Guru with delight. he said, 'What do you want?' and I
> replied, 'Guru, Let me never loose you. let me never loose you.' I
> think I just kept on saying that same thing. And he was just smiling
> like the sun. It is something most precious, one of my rare
> dream-encounters which I will never forget.
> When I read:
> .........Father! I feel that You not only granted my prayer, but also
> me most powerfully!
> "Son, I cannot forget you. I am most proud of you. I am most proud of
> all who are thinking of Me and holding Me in their hearts."
> Then You will not let me forget You?
> "Son, if you ever forget Me, My Sweetness-Smile shall chase you
> devotedly. My indomitable Thunder-Drum shall waken you soulfully......"
> ..... it brought the biggest smile to my face and made me feel that
> you are a very special brother to bring not only my dream-prayer of
> many years ago back into my mind - but also to give me Guru's reply.
> Personally I will be just as happy to receive the Thunder-Drum as the
> Sweetness Smile. It is just another form of the intensity of our
> Guru's Love. And even more strongly than his Smile it will force me to
> be for him what he wishes me to be - which is my hearts only and only
> longing and desire.
- Dear Doris,
I'm so glad that you have your own blog now, where you can expand upon
your thoughts and feelings, and also add photos and images that you
like. I feel very complimented that you would mention me and even
translate some of my writings into German. I know translation can be
very challenging work, so if you ever find it difficult, maybe you can
check with other German speakers and see if they have suggestions.
I never want to create any misundertanding with anyone - just add my
light to the sum of light. I call my writings poems and stories and I
sign my name to them. I never insist that anyone has to subscribe to
any particular theory of what they are. One can say that they are
"inspired by Sri Chinmoy." Just how deeply they are inspired, each
person can decide for himself.
Sometimes I provide a bit of "provenance." In the art world,
"provenance" means "Where did this come from? Tell us what you know.
You say it is a Degas, but why should we believe you?" So I try to
explain as best as I can, but it is not an exact science.
If you share my writings with others, I hope you will not trumpet them
loudly, but rather offer them gently.
I see you made one link to a short story I wrote in 2005. That was a
private project not much related to Sri Chinmoy Centre. It might not
be of much interest to disciples, so maybe it would be beter to delete
--- In Sri_Chinmoy_Inspiration@yahoogroups.com, cott_doris
> Dear Michael,
> I was very inspired and encouraged by Tejvan's comment.
> On my German blog people can read now one of your essays, a story,
> and poems, including the story fragment "The Reclusive Disciple" and
> the poem "Sweetness-Smile and Thunder-Drum."
> I began to translate both works of your's into German and would like
> to publish them with your kind permission on the German Sri Chinmoy
> Thank you for sharing more of the master's Light-offerings.
- Dear Michael
Yes I do know what you mean when you say it may be easy to write but
difficult to be a writer. It may be yet more difficult to be a writer
with a lot of capacity. I wager it is not only your capacity but your
humility which allows you to write for God. Either way, it is a very
rare combination. If you cannot accept my praise, do at least accept
my gratitude for sharing your gifts with us.
My compliments were meant sincerely, but of course carried the
unspoken small print which accompanies everything we do in life: all
is accomplished by God's Grace, and not by our capacity alone. If my
words brought accidental pressure with them, then you are at liberty
to overlook them, but I would rather not take them back.
With utmost respect, I disagree with some parts of your message.
I do not agree that if you can do it "anyone can". We are each a
portion of God, thus at the root we are not just equal, but one. I do
not therefore see the Master literally as having favourites, I know he
is far above that. He gives what is needed, (not what is deserved or
what takes his fancy), but that is not equal at every time and in
If God has given one person capacity in one field, and that person
also has the willingness and humility to offer it for His sole Use,
then will He not use that instrument with more joy, and more frequency
than others? Of course God can do as He pleases, but the Cosmic Game
follows universal rules and practicalities, or it would be no game at all.
Granted, nothing is impossible for anyone. God can do as He pleases,
but He does not find joy in making us all alike, or the Cosmic Play
would star only kings. Right now I tell you I could not run even 3
miles without a sizeable miracle, let alone 3100. Following your
theory you may say I lack only willingness to try, but I say that is
not so. It is only a very few whom God blesses with that level of
running capacity. Of course I will always try my best, and aim to
transcend myself in any small way I can, but can I expect to excel in
sports when I was built a poet? It is like trying to write with a
You are right in that it is not about you, or about emulating you, or
about weighing up your imperfections against your creations, "it's
about the boundless love that Sri Chinmoy has for all of us", and that
is worth celebrating in every achievement, in every field, in every
unique individual. The Master lives on in those who love him. Now he
is gone outwardly I am drawn most to those who remember him clearest
and feel him closest. That does not mean I would make gurus of them.
I still maintain that what you have felt and written is remarkable,
and I am not short of people to celebrate it with me. That does not
mean that it is the only remarkable thing in the world, or that I wish
I could have done it, or that I'd like to put you on some bleak and
draughty pedestal, but neither does it mean that your gift is not
special. God may love us all equally, but are we all pleasing Him
equally? I dare say not.
Pardon my belligerence. It is kindly meant, only I am in a spate of
rebuffs (yours a particularly gracious and eloquent example). The Game
is more fun when the ball is caught as well as pitched, but I will
content myself with pitching for now.
(Go long if you go at all.)
--- In Sri_Chinmoy_Inspiration@yahoogroups.com, assistantmummer
> Thank you to Priyadarshan, Sumangali, Sharani, Nicholas, Nirmala,
> Durga-Mata, Tejvan, Abhinabha, Kaushalya, Doris and Purnakama for all
> their kindness.
> I'm torn between accepting your comments graciously, and protesting
> that you make me sound too special...
> It's not about me, it's about the boundless love that Sri Chinmoy has
> for all of us, including the runners bravely challenging unimaginable
> distance with his help.
> I found Sumangali's pen simile charming, but I don't want to be Guru's
> favourite pen (if that was implied). In fact, I don't think he *has* a
> favourite. I think he's always ready to speak, write, sing, play, run,
> swim and dance through each of us. We are like flowers in his
> heart-garden. On a particular day one flower blooms, tomorrow
> another... I suppose I'm thinking of the group Blue Flower and their
> beautiful CD "Blossoming."
> Sumangali, you like the nib of a certain pen. But suppose you were
> thinking of one word, and found that the pen wrote a different word?
> Or suppose out of a sentence or paragraph, the pen captured some words
> but not others? Suppose you were writing in proper English, but the
> pen was turning everything into Cockney rhyming slang? (Though I
> suppose some function reports could do with a bit more chitty-chitty
> However fine the nib, you would probably discard that pen in favour of
> a better writing instrument.
> I think we are none of us perfect instruments. I am sometimes not fit
> for service, so I'm very grateful for times when I've been able to
> faithfully take dictation. If I can do it, anyone can! It just takes
> love, quietude, and a practiced hand at getting words on paper. These
> are qualities that anyone can cultivate, and which many people already
> I don't think Guru is partial or has favourites. That might lead to
> jealousy. Such a prolific author as our Master needs many pens in
> working order; and any time someone knocks at his heart's door with
> devotion, he is only too happy to speak with them, bless them, and
> illumine them. This he does in a unique way for each person according
> to what capacities they have developed, and according to their crying
> Recently, there was a thread discussing poet-songwriter Leonard Cohen.
> I suppose his best known song is "Suzanne," a snippet of which goes:
> And Jesus was a sailor
> When he walked upon the water
> And he spent a long time watching
> From his lonely wooden tower
> And when he knew for certain
> Only drowning men could see him
> He said "All men will be sailors then
> Until the sea shall free them..."
> It is just poetry. But I like the line "Only drowning men could see
> him." Just as you cannot know the height of others' vision, you cannot
> know the depths of their despair. Will you envy a drowning man?
> Maybe Sumangali will know what I mean if I say that sometimes I find
> it easy to write, but difficult to be the writer. Sometimes bringing
> it outward and sharing it in a public forum can be "excruciating" (to
> use her word). I try and learn from her bravery in continuing to "get
> back on the horse." (See her message #22316.)
> I don't want to run myself down nor inflate my capacities. But I think
> other poets would understand that the clarity of a poem may be
> hard-won, and may rise to the surface from a life filled with
> confusion - like mushrooms springing up from the manure. We can
> appreciate a poem as a moment of perfect clarity, yet recognize that -
> in my case - the poet has teeming imperfections and is not a person to
> As Durga-Mata implied a few months ago, poets and visionaries are not
> always the best role models around an ashram. There are people who
> quietly do the right thing at each moment in their lives who make
> better role models. They may not communicate grand visions, they may
> not draw attention to themselves, but their daily service is what
> makes Guru's Mission possible. Or to paraphrase a popular book title:
> After poetry, the laundry!
> You can say that from a life filled with desperate useless activity, I
> sometimes tire of my own foolishness and am ready to listen to a Voice
> that is all perfection. That Voice is worth emulating, but not the
> poet himself, not the messenger.
> How do you save someone's life? Give them a job to do. Make them feel
> it is indispensible. Even if it is only a small job, a messenger's
> job. Maybe that is Sri Chinmoy's way of saving my life. He has done it
> for thousands of others - as Congressman Ackerman might say: the weak
> and the strong, the rich and the poor.
> To all these earthly identities, Sri Chinmoy is like an angel who
> holds a bright key. William Blake writes:
> The Chimney Sweeper
> When my mother died I was very young,
> And my father sold me while yet my tongue
> Could scarcely cry 'weep! 'weep! 'weep! 'weep!
> So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep.
> There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head,
> That curled like a lamb's back, was shaved: so I said,
> "Hush, Tom! never mind it, for when your head's bare,
> You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair."
> And so he was quiet; and that very night,
> As Tom was a-sleeping, he had such a sight, -
> That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack,
> Were all of them locked up in coffins of black.
> And by came an angel who had a bright key,
> And he opened the coffins and set them all free;
> Then down a green plain leaping, laughing, they run,
> And wash in a river, and shine in the sun.
> Then naked and white, all their bags left behind,
> They rise upon clouds and sport in the wind;
> And the angel told Tom, if he'd be a good boy,
> He'd have God for his father, and never want joy.
> And so Tom awoke; and we rose in the dark,
> And got with our bags and our brushes to work.
> Though the morning was cold, Tom was happy and warm;
> So if all do their duty they need not fear harm.
> from Songs of Innocence, by William Blake
> I Am An Idiot
> I know I am an idiot true.
> In the growing clouds my hopeful feet,
> Hands flung skywards for the blue stars.
> My throes no sun, no moon, shall greet.
> I had a dream, a real dream:
> God would bury Himself to live
> In human ignorance hungry and black,
> To human death His Soul He'd give.
> from My Flute, by Sri Chinmoy
> And also:
> Two Unborn Dreams
> I long for the blossoming
> Of two unborn dreams.
> I wish to fly
> From life to death
> To change the face and fate of earth
> In the world of death.
> I wish to fly
> From earth-failure to Heaven-triumph
> To change the sorrows and pangs of God
> In the world of man.
> from The Golden Boat, Part 9, by Sri Chinmoy
> He also writes:
> Where is death?
> Where is death?
> Every day a new life.
> from the song "Kothai Moran" as perforfmed by Shindhu
> As each new day dawns, the field is wide open for anyone who wants to
> receive and manifest the Master's light. If anything, my poems prove
> that the Master does *not* play favourites, and that all may try and
> (on certain days) succeed! As Nirmila said: "This Marathon-Talk with
> our Master is also without an ending."
> --- In Sri_Chinmoy_Inspiration@yahoogroups.com, purnakama2000
> <no_reply@> wrote:
> > I am all gratitude to your soulful expression.
> > Purnakama
- What a surprise to find this kind and inspiring letter from you
Michael. Before answering your letter I will tell you my latest funny
As usual at this particular time for me my outer life is very crazy
and often stressful and unaspiring - not peopled with disciples much,
just battles of various kinds with outer world challenges. Well I had
a unique teaching experience on Friday night. Still battling with the
end of term deadlines I was in trouble about a week ago with year 8
reports because they are on a peculiar programme which has to load
onto a special system with columns of numbers as well as a written
comment. Because I only work part-time I finished the last year 8
class reports at home and emailed the folder to school to meet the
deadline. For some unknown reason, after emailing the details wouldn't
load on the school system so that class missed their RE reports being
included. As you can imagine it caused a lot of trouble and hours of
wasted time. I did not want that to happen again so I determined to
complete the year 9 reports at school.
Last Friday I was finishing these. The absolute deadline was Monday -
so I had to do them before I left. I would have done it in time but I
was also looking for jobs and completing an application forms after
school and I ran out of time. My classroom is in a mobile hut - (the
school is having a lot of rebuilding done so we have a 'hut city.')
Anyway I have my own key to the hut so I just went there and continued
working on the reports on my laptop - having locked myself in. It was
getting late - but I was nearly finished when there was a bang on the
window. The caretaker had called the police on me!!!
I left a quick note for my colleague as we share the class whose notes
I was finishing. We both only see them once a fortnight - so I don't
know them very well. I had done the report comments based on the work
in their books but as my colleague has taught at the school for years
she knows them better than I do. Also they are inclined to misbehave
more with her so I wanted her to double check these reports even if I
had finished them, to reflect the way they work for her. So I left a
note asking her to complete the last detail on Monday (today) before
giving them in to the office. (I left them on my memory stick.)
The detail that needed completing was one column where you choose
either 'excellent, good, satisfactory or concern.' It is a big class
with a number of difficult students, but I had put excellent in the
top column and 'filled down' so all the students had 'excellent.' Had
I been able to complete the exercise I would have checked my register
records and altered them where necessary to the other categories - but
I still would have asked my colleague to check them and amend them as
neccecary. As it was I just had to write a quick note, drop everything
What I didn't know was that my colleague was out of school today, on a
course. So no-one could do any alteration and the reports went through
like that. There will be some big surprised smiles on the faces of
some of my students from that class when they get their RE reports and
find their overall 'grade' is excellent. My colleague laughed a lot
when I told her, saying, 'Well does it matter? We're both leaving at
the end of term.'
Now to respond to your message. I do agree that we should try to claim
each other's achievements as our own. I love your analogy - 'We are
all stars in Guru's heart-sky. Each of us twinkles in our own way.
When we shine together, we illumine the night sky.'
I also know that 'there is no reason for anyone to feel jealous. After
all, as Abhinabha suggested, if Sri Chinmoy is the ventriloquist, then
I am just the wooden dummy!
There is no reason for anyone to feel jealous or to feel any undivine
emotion. I know that in theory. But we are not yet perfect and however
we may 'know' that there is no reason to feel jealous or any other
undivine emotion, we have to deal with the reality of our experience.
When I read in your poem
> "Son, since I left the physical,it was just too much for me. I was missing Guru so intensely. To know
> So many people have seen me vividly
> In the inner world.
> It is not their mental hallucination,
> It is their true spiritual experience
> Founded on aspiration."
that he was appearing to others in such a vivid way - but not able
myself to even feel him close just added to my pain and grief. It
suggested that my own lack of aspiration was to blame for my failure
to see my Guru. Jealousy was part of the problem but also this sense
of being to blame.
Again in the next part - "Well, if you are spiritually dead then I
will be a dead Guru to you. But if you aspire, I will be your living
Guru, I will speak constantly inside your Aspiration-Heart." -
may be all 'love and compassion' but it suggests that if we don't feel
Guru's closeness and hear him constantly speaking in our heart of
aspiration - it is our fault. It suggests that we are spiritually
dead. And that was also a cause of increased pain when I was really
crying and crying inwardly and outwardly for him.
Thankyou for the quotation on imagination.
'Imagination is not mental hallucination. Never! Imagination is a
world of its own. If I have a dear one in my life, whether it is my
mother or my father or somebody else, I want to see that person. True,
I may not be able to see him right now with my physical eyes, but with
my inner eye, with my inner feeling, I can easily imagine that person
to be in front of me. Then,let me make that person very real, very
concrete in my life...
"So in your case I am telling you, even if you are physically away
from me, if I am in one country and you are in another, you can easily
feel that I am standing right in front of you.' (unofficial)
I agree so much and do try to use imagination. But the dream was real,
that was not imagination. Just that because it was such a subtle
experience which Guru was showing me rather than a dramatic dream that
I remembered spontaneously...
The dream experience was important to me because it showed me clearly
that while my mind and outer life may be preoccupied with the
struggle to survive in my current situation with a crazy job full of
stress and impossible demands, far from my home with loads of
travelling, car problems, a job that's only part time so there are
money problems too - and people who are close to my heart who are
struggling with many undivine and difficult outer problems and think
that because I meditate and have a living spiritual life I can help
them out - so that they also take my energy..... while so much of my
life is difficult and uninspiring.... that is not the whole picture.
In the inner worlds - even if I'm too deaf and blind to be aware of it
- my soul is at peace with my Guru, at His Feet and utterly embraced
by His Love.
As this is true for me I guess it is also true for all the rest of us.
That was why I wanted to share this dream-experience. But I was
concerned that some of my brothers and sisters might think it was
arrogant or inappropriate. I'm glad you do not hold that view.
I agree fully that 'you cannot easily choose what you will think at
time of death! It will be what you thought about your whole life.
Therefore, when you are fortunate to meet a great Master like Sri
Chinmoy, it is being said to fill your whole life with thoughts of
him.' This is the same for dreams. We can not choose what we say to
Guru in our dreams. That is why I am so thrilled by the two dreams I
have written about because they show that when I am not in my
conscious mind, my soul is all love and devotion. I was so happy that
I had said these particular things to Guru, 'Guru, I want to realise
You' and 'Let me never loose You.' .... so simple and so pure. My mind
could never have been so eloquent.
Regarding the flowers I do not know all the names. But I know many
because my parents knew many and were always thrilled to discover new
flowers and learn their names. Flowers - well the wild ones I grew up
with - are special friends who come to visit and give me joy as the
Well, it's now nearly 3am. I'm just home from another weekend in
Birmingham, doing my best to support my Guru-loving and aspiring
friends there. I have just an hour before I need to get up to drive to
work in Norfolk so I had better get to bed. Did I say my outer life is
crazy at the moment?
Thankyou, Michael for sharing your inspiration, oneness and
encouragement with us all. Thankyou for being such a special
ventriloquist-poet so that through your work we really can hear Guru
talking to us still.
- Two updates.
One is that I slept till nearly 6.00 which was good for getting a
few hours sleep but meant a very rushed journey, not keeping to the
55mph limit Guru advises - well I often go above that but not
usually as fast as I had to go today - It's too heavy on petrol as
well as more tiring. anyway by Guru's Grace I covered about 140
miles and arrived 2 minutes before my first lesson!
The second update is that our colleague in Administration, who
processes the reports, did let us go into the year 9 file and ammend
them. It just would not have been right for everyone in that classto
About the flowers. I will try to borrow a camera as there's a field
I pass which is 'poppy glory' at the moment. I was thinking I would
like to choose something inspiring from Guru's Writings to include
here so this is not just a mundane and uninspiring post - the beauty
of the poppies is so truly inspiring I wanted to find a poem related
to them. I put 'flower' and 'beauty' in the poetry search and there
were over 90 hits. These are all just from the first 15! Which do
you like best, I wonder. I simply couldn't select just one.
All my love
this is my favourite.
We can easily find God
In the beauty-smile
Of the morning flowers.
but I love these too...
May my God-oneness-heart-tree
Every day produce infinite
Flowers of beauty,
Flowers of fragrance
Flowers of selflessness.
Excerpt from Seventy-Seven Thousand Service-Trees, Part 20 by Sri
Question: When we offer people flowers, what should we feel we are
Sri Chinmoy: Feel that you are offering them your heart's pure
fragrance, and you are hoping that their heart will receive it.
Also, you will pray to God at that time to give extra purity and
extra beauty, divine beauty, to your heart and to the heart of the
person to whom you are offering the flowers.
Excerpt from Sri Chinmoy Answers, Part 32 by Sri Chinmoy.
I see God's Purity-Face
I see God's Beauty-Face
Excerpt from Twenty-Seven Thousand Aspiration-Plants, Part 29 by Sri
We all are flowers
Of exquisite beauty
In the Heart-Garden
Of our Lord Supreme.
Excerpt from Seventy-Seven Thousand Service-Trees, Part 19 by Sri
- Hello Durga Mata,
I feel report card oneness with you. It was so much easier when we
could do them with pen and paper. We have had endless problems with
our computer reports!
And I can also to relate to your spending most of your time in the
non disciple world. Being teachers that is our life. I've struggled
with this idea and have often felt less of a disciple sometimes
because I am not in an enterprise or somewhere where Guru's presence
is always there. But I think I've come to realise that God needs us
everywhere. As Sumangali pointed out, we've all been given different
capacities and as long as we're doing what God needs us to do.
wherever that is, it's all good
And finally thank you for sharing this poem with us.
"We Can easily find God
in the beauty smile
of the morning flowers."
Every morning when I leave for work I water my small garden and say
good morning to all of my flowers. My neighbors must get a good
chuckle! It makes me so happy to see them. I feel like they're
smiling as they wake up to greet the day; especially my blue flax as
it slowly opens it petals in the morning sun after having closed up,
resting for the night.
Thanks for sharing all of your fun stories and life's little
- Hello Purnakama,
It's Wednesday 25th June, just after 4pm.
Thankyou for your kind message. First the great news. I just finished
the last of my reports! As soon as I had passed them to the office I
thought, 'let me just treat myself by spending a few minutes looking
at Inspiration Site. I will read some posts and reply to at least
three - just for oneness and not about myself for once.' But what
should I find? This sweet message to me from you! So I am indeed
answering someone's message - but it is also about me again! I will
answer a few of the points you mention.
....I can also to relate to your spending most of your time in the
non-disciple world. Being teachers that is our life. I've struggled
with this idea and have often felt less of a disciple sometimes
because I am not in an enterprise or somewhere where Guru's presence
is always there. But I think I've come to realise that God needs us
Yes, I do agree with you here. It can be lonely at times but I also
believe we have a particular role because Guru's Light has to touch
everyone. I sometimes wonder if one reason why I can't get a permanent
job may be because Guru wants me to work in a lot of schools and in
that way touch more kids with his Light than I would if I just worked
in one school for years. I know the outer reasons - of age, school
budgets (more experienced teachers like me are more expensive) and
weak CV due to short-term or part-time work - to say nothing of the
new data-handling skills that schools have started to demand - are
important factors - but I feel if it were God's Will I would surely
have found a permanent job by now.
Once I was really upset at not succeeding in an interview. I had
worked in the school for a term and they knew I was good but still I
did not get selected. In the evening, at my shrine, I was meditating
and felt a strong force from my heart crying to Guru and asking what
was wrong with me. Why didn't I get the job? It was one of those rare
times when you 'hear' the answer to a prayer. Guru said that 'the
politics of the position would have destroyed your aspiration.' I'm
not sure of the exact words but that was the gist of the message.
I could see it was very true as I was working that term as Head of
Department in a big school but one other teacher in my department was
an atheist and refused to follow my Schemes of Work or co-operate with
me. I'd taken the problem to the Head early on - but he just said that
teacher had worked there for a long time and got good results so I
should just let him carry on in his own way. It would have been
difficult to create a harmonious department there with the other
teacher's hostility and no support from the Head. I know a lot of
teachers who have real problems with the 'Management' and internal
'politics' so I guess my situation is a blessing in some ways.
....As Sumangali pointed out, we've all been given different
capacities and as long as we're doing what God needs us to do,
wherever that is, it's all good...
I agree so much with this. There are many things I am good at but
many, many things I am not good at. I am quite dyslexic and maths is
also not my strong point. In teaching my strengths are in my ability
to communicate difficult and abstract ideas, my endless energy and
enthusiasm regarding my beloved subject, my empathy and understanding
of young people so any misbehaviour doesn't stress me out and I can
connect with them and hopefully inspire them to co-operate, a high
degree of patience, humour and relentlessness in dealing with their
misbehaviour if they still don't co-operate... but maths - no.
But that is not the end of the story. I have found a way around this
weakness. My son once said he liked maths best because it is so safe.
You just learn a rule, apply it and get the right answer. In other
subjects you have to take a risk and expose something of yourself -
but in Maths there is no risk. So I tell my class this story and we
look for the rules together. Then we find who in the class can
understand and work the rule we need for the exercise they are working
on - and they become 'Peer Tutors' who can help others (like me) who
are still struggling.
In fact I found that my mathematical difficulty comes not from a
failure to understand the rules but because I'm dyslexic with numbers
just as much as spellings. I double and reverse numbers and letters in
a completely random way. What saved me in writing and becoming a
teacher was computer word-processing and spell checks but in maths
there is nothing to help. However hard you work at it you just get the
....And finally thank you for sharing this poem with us....
>Yes isn't it special!
> "We Can easily find God
> in the beauty smile
> of the morning flowers."
.....Every morning when I leave for work I water my small garden and
say good morning to all of my flowers. My neighbours must get a good
chuckle! It makes me so happy to see them. I feel like they're smiling
as they wake up to greet the day; especially my blue flax as it slowly
opens it petals in the morning sun after having closed up, resting for
I love your description of your garden-experience. I would love a
quiet regular peaceful routine like this each morning.
Your description of flax reminds me of the Blue Lotus. I had no idea
that there were such things as blue lotus' until I was in The Garland
of Divinity's Love one August, years and years ago. Kanan came back
from the market with one. It was amazing, love at first sight. I
bought it immediately and gave it to Guru for his birthday.
A few years later, when I had designed my Educational Games cards and
was inspired to try to make them into a real enterprise - I was not
even trying to think of a name for this project. Suddenly the words,
'Blue Lotus' came into my mind with a particular strength and
certainty. So my project became 'Blue Lotus Enterprises.' I went on
the Web to see if anyone else had this name for their business - and
was happy to find it was free for me to use - but I also found out a
lot about the blue lotus flower. It is strongly associated with
spirituality and in ancient Egypt it was a sacred plant which
symbolised life after death because the flowers close at night and
sink down under the water. Then in the morning slowly the closed
flower buds rise up to open again above the surface of the water in
When I came to New York the following April, on my birthday, and went
to The Garland of Divinity's Love, I found Kanan had some blue lotus
flowers again. This was only the second time I had ever seen them,
first on Guru's Birthday and then on mine. Kanan did not know I was
coming that day or that I had chosen that name for the enterprise...
but I took it as a sweet sign that the name was right. With Guru there
are no coincidences.
.........Thanks for sharing all of your fun stories and life's little
Thanks for your encouragement and oneness. I am feeling Guru suddenly
very close as I write. So instead of reading more and answering any
other lovely messages I'm going to go and meditate.
All my gratitude and love - to you and to all my divine family -
- Dear Michael,
Whenever I read your writings inwardly I see a brush beginning to
paint. I follow it's directions with my eyes and it gives me joy you
are using colours I like. When I discover my favourite colour here
and there and there and here it gives me even more joy.
It is nice you feel complimented that I mention you on my German
blog. In the 'worst' case only a few people are reading it. I didn't
say much about your writings there. Who am I to do so? And I know you
do not expect this from anybody.
I am aware that translation is a challenging work, I am not an
overconvident person. All translations I make from Sri Chinmoy's
stories Great Indian Meals I send for proofreading to a sensitive
translater who lives in Austria. I don't know exactly why, but I am
not ready to send my posts meant for the Inspiration Group to someone
for corrections. Sarah offered me some help but I didn't hear from
her for a long time and I also don't want to steal some of her
precious time. I hope she is doing well. In a way it is more relaxing
to write in proper German. But by translating stories and poems I get
a lot more out of them. That is one reason why I translate them. I
hope there will come a time when one of my translations will begin
with the line, "There was once a disciple..."
I tried what you suggested and keep you completely out of the poems
and it is my sincere experience that my joy and gratitude (also to
you) increased immensely.
I too found it was very beautiful what Kaushalya said in her message
Dear Michael, we are humbled even to be reading such a soulful insight
into our spiritual life as it continues to unfold. "Now is the time to
stay with the Divine in you, which is always close to My Soul": These
words are especially dear to me. There is no use trying to run away
from the pain which sometimes feels like a deep, sharp wound. The pain
invites us to take the journey into the Divine , make the quantum
gradually or quickly, as is possible, to honestly explore what we can
each do in order to live divinely. Guru always said that we get joy
only by crossing hurdles - and this is a most demanding hurdle, which
Guru would probably say is the greatest opportunity. Inspiration and
encouragement from each other is so helpful, and your self-offering is
surely that in glowing colours. It is so good to hear your voice
again. Gratitude, Kaushalya
I hope I am not wrong there was some humour involved in your reply to
my comment. I personally wouldn't want to waste time by exploring
artworks of their originality but rather enjoy them.
While I read your poem "Sweetness-Smile and Thunder-Drum" I was
moved to tears by the lines:
"Father, while You were on earth You suffered greatly. Please do not
let me bind You with my orphan-tears. Fly away to the highest Heaven!
You have earned the rest."
This is so beautiful. I feel so much sympathy for disciples who spent
many, many years in the master's physical presence. Many of us who
live in other countries and have not seen our master as often as you
and other American disciples have seen him may never really and
deeply feel what it means to miss his physical presence, though I too
do miss his physical presence as everybody does.
I hope you did not have an elephant trumpeting in mind when you asked
me to share your writings gently though it is true that I might have
even played a trombone by linking to your short story. In a touch of
enthusiasm (what is not at all a bad thing :-)) I had forgotten that
you made a request not to publish it on other websites. My only
consolation is that I realised my mistake before I read your message.
At that time I had already deleted the link and now replaced it with
another one. I was consoled the moment a little child came running
towards me and happily showed me a little trumpeting angel. Of course
this is not what I am. I was just consoled. I have an old flute on
which I sometimes play Sri Chinmoy's songs by heart. Recently I
joined Utsava's "Classical Flute Club" (I am joking, the title is my
invention only). It is a joy to practice with her and some
other 'children.' It compels my sometimes roaming mind to become
silent and be more focused.
Perhaps the Roches would have joy as well as I have by singing one of
Guru's songs that goes:
God is coming,
I hear His Voice.
God has come,
I see His Face.
God needs you,
Apropos trumpeting â" I think you have trumpeted loud enough now that
you are an imperfect human being (as we all are). :-) It is true what
"We are all stars in Guru's heart-sky. Each of us twinkles in our own
way. When we shine together, we illumine the night sky."
In our centre there is only one older lady I share your writings with
but I do not share all of your works that I read. I do not share any
of your writings in our Centre. Some of our centre members are silent
readers here, accept for Pranam and Nirmala. A few days ago when I
was sitting in her kitchen where we were drinking tea and had some
biscuits I asked her whether she was interested in reading a new post
of you and she said very warmly, "Oh, yes, that would be kind of you
to make some copies." It is possible she shares them with her
I vividly remember the day when I went to my very first Joyday in
1990. Wearing a sari for the first time I felt like Cinderella who
was allowed to dance at the ball when I walked up the stairs and
entered the hall where people were all dressed in whites and saris.
Cinderella loves beautiful garments but sometimes she also loves to
remember the time she spent with the Birds when she was doing hard
work (to understand better where Cinderalla's life ends and the
princess's life begins) and so she puts on her old and very simple
clothes though she could have made a better choice. Sometimes she may
put them on out of unawareness. Perhaps only the birds know how much
inner beauty there was envolved when she painted all those walls and
sang songs, God knows how many times she repeated them, like the
following one, of which she felt it was like a gift. It is a bhajan,
Sri Chinmoy composed on March 25, 1992 and which would be very easy
"Khulbo ami hiyar duar
Dekhte pitar kripar jowar."
This song would make her feel like a princess dressed in a most
beautiful garment, the one she was wearing when she went with her
king in a white carriage. Perhaps now she wants to save her most
beautiful garment for the "Last Waltz."
What more could she do than grateful sing back to her Lord:
"My heart's king, my heart's king.
Your Victory bell I ring.
You I love, you I adore,
You are my boat, You are my shore."
Now there is so much "I" in my post. I am sorry for that. I may
conclude with two more sentences that begins with "I".
I love the poem and will have to read it more often to fully feel it.
I have had a question in regards to Sri Chinmoy's song:
"I shall leave My Dream-Boat
Here on earth on the last day."
- Sri Chinmoy
It is being answered to my fulliest satisfaction and consolation.
P.S. You said in an earlier post that you are a hobby photographer. I
assume you have a gallery?
~ ~ ~
--- In Sri_Chinmoy_Inspiration@yahoogroups.com, assistantmummer
> Dear Doris,
> I'm so glad that you have your own blog now, where you can expand
> your thoughts and feelings, and also add photos and images that youcan
> like. I feel very complimented that you would mention me and even
> translate some of my writings into German. I know translation can be
> very challenging work, so if you ever find it difficult, maybe you
> check with other German speakers and see if they have suggestions.I
> I never want to create any misundertanding with anyone - just add my
> light to the sum of light. I call my writings poems and stories and
> sign my name to them. I never insist that anyone has to subscribe tothem
> any particular theory of what they are. One can say that they are
> "inspired by Sri Chinmoy." Just how deeply they are inspired, each
> person can decide for himself.
> Sometimes I provide a bit of "provenance." In the art world,
> "provenance" means "Where did this come from? Tell us what you know.
> You say it is a Degas, but why should we believe you?" So I try to
> explain as best as I can, but it is not an exact science.
> If you share my writings with others, I hope you will not trumpet
> loudly, but rather offer them gently.delete
> I see you made one link to a short story I wrote in 2005. That was a
> private project not much related to Sri Chinmoy Centre. It might not
> be of much interest to disciples, so maybe it would be beter to
> that link.and
> Thank you,
> --- In Sri_Chinmoy_Inspiration@yahoogroups.com, cott_doris
> <no_reply@> wrote:
> > Dear Michael,
> > I was very inspired and encouraged by Tejvan's comment.
> > On my German blog people can read now one of your essays, a story,
> > and poems, including the story fragment "The Reclusive Disciple"
> > the poem "Sweetness-Smile and Thunder-Drum."like
> > I began to translate both works of your's into German and would
> > to publish them with your kind permission on the German SriChinmoy
> > website.
> > Thank you for sharing more of the master's Light-offerings.
> > http://doriscott.blogspot.com/
> > Doris
- Hello again Durga Mata,
Now I will thank you for your kind reply to my post:)
I just read your description of the lovely footpaths in your area.
It sounds wonderful! And hearing stories of your mother is so
I want to give you some encouragement in the job hunt. I know how
frustrating it can be.
About 3 years ago my job as a jr high band teacher which I had
always loved became extemely difficult and the environment became
undivine to say the least due to an administration change.
I desperately tried to get a different job when the job postings
came out that year but to no avail. I was very depressed and
disheartened at having to go back there the next year, but back I
went for 2 more years and the situation became worse, and still I
could not seem to be successful at getting another job. I had
written a letter to Guru telling him about this situation so I knew
that whatever was happening was somehow all in the plan.
Then finally the third year something changed. All along I had been
applying for classroom jobs, to teach grade 5, or 6. I wanted out of
the rat race of having 200 children come through my room every day,
and wanted the peace and relative tranquility of having just 25
little souls to deal with on a daily basis, not 200.
Then one night as I was stressed over the new job postings coming
out, I had a dream. In the dream I was trying to get into a room in
a strange building but I couldn't find the right door. Suddenly one
of our secretaries from the school appeared in my dream and she
showed me a different door to go through, and it was glowing with
light. She said "you don't want that other door, you want this
one.This is where you should go."
I went to that door in the dream and indeed, it proved to be much
better than I imagined.
The next day at school when I was discussing and fretting over the
new postings,the secretary that was in my dream came to me and
said, "Purnakama, you're applying for the wrong jobs. You want these
classroom jobs, but there are these terriffic elementary music jobs
and they're in really good schools. You could work with younger
children and be creative and do the kind of music that you love.
They're perfect for you."
After the dream the previous night I couldn't believe my ears.
Maybe I was applying for the wrong jobs. Maybe hiding in the safety
of a small classroom was not what was meant for me.
So I applied for 3 jobs in the elementary music realm and I got all
3 jobs. It was a miracle! I got to choose, or rather God chose for
me and I ended up in the perfect position for me. I'm in a fantastic
school without a previous music program so I have free reign to
create what I want without any preconcieved notions from a previous
And I still have about 200 children coming to my classroom every
day, but now I love it!
I guess my point is, don't give up. I realise now that I had to wait
out that "hell" in my other school to find the exact right position
The exact right position for you is out there, it just may not be
ready yet so you just have to hang tight until it is, and it may not
take the form that you think so, be open to anything.
I wish you luck in your search, but in the meantime, enjoy a restful
- Again thankyou for your post,Purnakama.
My difficulty is not that I'm in a job I don't like - but that for the
past 10 years or more I've only had part-time, short-temporary or
supply work, none of which pays enough to live on, never mind get to
New York without going into deeper debt.
The job I'm in now ends in three weeks and I don't even know where
I'll stay next week as the colleague who I have been renting a room
from works at a College with earlier holidays. She's going away and I
simply have no money to pay for a hotel or hostel. I am tired of the
insecurity, of traveling long distances to work and having no place of
my own to stay. I'm tired of having no time at home to make it a home
and tired of having money worries.
I would so much like a regular job which I can get to from home. Most
people have that kind of ordered existence. But it seems that is not
what the Supreme wants for me. It has a positive aspect - I try to
identify with the Ultra Runners and just take each day as it comes -
and go on, go on, what ever the 'weather' or 'injuries' but I really
am tired of this kind of chaotic lifestyle. That's why I was drawn so
strongly by your description of talking to your flax and other flowers
This weekend I had a residential course which was related to
church-based spirituality and Christian education. It was held in a
big country house set in beautiful landscape, very peaceful and
inspiring. The people on the course were lovely and I enjoyed it a lot
- but under the surface I was struggling with my worries and
anxieties. I was saying to one friend that the comfortable faith
statement, 'The Lord will Provide' does not always work out. In the
Biblical story Abraham was commanded to sacrifice his son - but then
his hand was stayed and there was a ram caught in the bushes. The Lord
'provided' an alternative sacrifice. But surrender is not surrender if
you assume God will come to your rescue, just in the nick of time. If
you think like that then, on the occasions when things don't work out
and your outer world is full of cracks, it would shake your faith. But
outer difficulties do not mean God doesn't care for you - or that you
are a 'bad person.' Indeed, From what I've read of Guru's writings on
surrender, we are always tested on what we find most difficult, so it
could just be that you are in an 'advanced class.'
Anyway, It's been a long and exhausting year. My part-time wages
barely cover the costs of living and I'm so short of money that I have
to borrow for petrol at times, just to get to work. But I have
survived, stayed the course, honoured my contract and stayed faithful
to my colleagues and my students so I feel a certain sense of peace
and completion. However, knowing that in three weeks my job ends and
there is nothing on the horizon for September, It is hard not to feel
a few worries and anxieties.
On my way back to London after the course my mobile phone rang. It was
an organisation I'd never heard of called 'Academic Solutions.' It is
a new Supply Agency set up by someone who worked at the Agency I
worked for in Birmingham for several years. She remembered me and had
tracked me down because a school in her area needs a Religious
Education Specialist to run the department for two terms, starting in
September. She knew I'd be good for it, was I free?
I am not enthusiastic. It's in Worcester which is near Wales, the
opposite side of England from my mother's house. If I do get this post
I will miss the golden days and weekends with my mum and it will still
involve long drives every weekend. But it does seem that God has
something lined up for me and does not want to see me idle.
I stopped on the way home to put an advert in a shop window for
something I want to sell. When I came back to the car the bakery I'd
parked outside was just closing. 'Could you do with some bread?' the
lady asked from the doorway. 'They'll just be thrown out if you can't
take any. It's such a waste.' So I came home with a large bag of
loaves and buns. The freezer is now full and I gave some to a
neighbour. It seems God does not want to see me go hungry either! I
have said it before - there are no coincidences in my life.
all my love Durga-Mata
- Hi Durga Mata,
May I just say that Guru will be with you on your job search and I
wish you the best of luck!
I'm looking forward to sharing stories with you in August!
- Dear Sumangali,
I didn't find your reply belligerent (#22865), and can't identify
anything I disagree with. After all, in art, spirituality and life,
there are often paradoxes. Perhaps we're bringing out different
aspects of the same truth. I thought your comments kindly and
insightful; I did not feel pressured.
An interesting issue you've indirectly raised is the difference
between equality as assembly-line sameness, vs. equality of
opportunity. No two snowflakes are the same; how much less so human
There's a wonderful book by Ursula K. LeGuinn called The Lathe of
Heaven. It's based partly on Taoism. There's a character who has the
ability to change reality with his dreams. He comes under the sway of
an ambitious psychiatrist who wants to use and control this ability to
change the world for the better; but it never works out right...
At one point, the psychiatrist tells him to solve the race problem,
which the patient does by dreaming a world in which everyone has the
same ashen-gray complexion - in other words, a world full of dull
To take your side of the non-argument,* suppose I were to say: "If I
can sign my name this way, anyone can!" or "If my fingerprints can
look this way, anyone's can!" That plainly wouldn't be true, since
handwriting and fingerprints are unique to each person.
When people write dialog poems (I am not the only one to do so), they
are interactiing with Guru's consciousness. There is an element of
But while the results may not always be equal (meaning sameness), each
person has an equal opportunity to interact with Guru's consciousness.
That's what I meant by him not playing favourites.
It is also like a father with his children. The father loves them all,
and plays different games with them according to the capacities they
have developed. With one child he plays hide and seek, with another
football, and another chess. With another he plays musical duets.
Always there is the implicit feeling of love, and the implicit promise
that new and better games await as we learn to do more things.
In the physical world, we have lost our father. It is an unbearably
sad event. But in the midst of our orphan tears, we find that he is
inviting us out to an infinite cricket pitch and coaching us in new
skills that we can use to come ever closer to him. He is running
freely again as he used to, and we can barely keep up with him even
though he slackens the pace. He is leading us through an orchard of
sweet fruits that goes on forever - where it is always summer - and
teaching us to harvest happiness (to borrow a phrase from Sumangali).
You mention humility... I wonder if it is not some strange admixture
of humility and egomania which allows me to write and manifest these
poems. Certainly I do need to be very quiet and a good listener during
the actual writing. But if I were very humble, perhaps I would stick
them in a drawer somewhere and never share them. There is an element
of egomania in posting them on the Internet.
> The Game is more fun when the ball is caught as wellYou've got me pegged as a wide receiver, but I'm really more of a
> as pitched, but I will content myself with pitching
> for now.
> (Go long if you go at all.)
punter. Anyway, I shall don the equipment and try not to step in any
cowpats, cowfish, cowgirls, or other bovine entities. (Is it true what
they say, that cowgirls have short memories? And does their own
cuteness keep them out of danger?)
I suppose to avoid misunderstandings, we should stick to sporting
metaphors from games that neither Yanks nor Britons actually play...
How about curling, which I understand is popular in Newfoundland? It
apparently involves two codgers wearing kilts frantically sweeping the
ice in an effort to influence the trajectory of a metal discus.
Barring that, I challenge you to Australian rules dingo baby hunting
at sixteen paces!
*"Oh, you were looking for an argument? Sorry, that's down the hall.
This is Abuse."
--- In Sri_Chinmoy_Inspiration@yahoogroups.com, sumangali_m
> Dear Michael
> Yes I do know what you mean when you say it may be easy to write but
> difficult to be a writer. It may be yet more difficult to be a writer
> with a lot of capacity. I wager it is not only your capacity but your
> humility which allows you to write for God. Either way, it is a very
> rare combination. If you cannot accept my praise, do at least accept
> my gratitude for sharing your gifts with us.
> My compliments were meant sincerely, but of course carried the
> unspoken small print which accompanies everything we do in life: all
> is accomplished by God's Grace, and not by our capacity alone. If my
> words brought accidental pressure with them, then you are at liberty
> to overlook them, but I would rather not take them back.
> With utmost respect, I disagree with some parts of your message.
> I do not agree that if you can do it "anyone can". We are each a
> portion of God, thus at the root we are not just equal, but one. I do
> not therefore see the Master literally as having favourites, I know he
> is far above that. He gives what is needed, (not what is deserved or
> what takes his fancy), but that is not equal at every time and in
> every case.
> If God has given one person capacity in one field, and that person
> also has the willingness and humility to offer it for His sole Use,
> then will He not use that instrument with more joy, and more frequency
> than others? Of course God can do as He pleases, but the Cosmic Game
> follows universal rules and practicalities, or it would be no game
> Granted, nothing is impossible for anyone. God can do as He pleases,
> but He does not find joy in making us all alike, or the Cosmic Play
> would star only kings. Right now I tell you I could not run even 3
> miles without a sizeable miracle, let alone 3100. Following your
> theory you may say I lack only willingness to try, but I say that is
> not so. It is only a very few whom God blesses with that level of
> running capacity. Of course I will always try my best, and aim to
> transcend myself in any small way I can, but can I expect to excel in
> sports when I was built a poet? It is like trying to write with a
> You are right in that it is not about you, or about emulating you, or
> about weighing up your imperfections against your creations, "it's
> about the boundless love that Sri Chinmoy has for all of us", and that
> is worth celebrating in every achievement, in every field, in every
> unique individual. The Master lives on in those who love him. Now he
> is gone outwardly I am drawn most to those who remember him clearest
> and feel him closest. That does not mean I would make gurus of them.
> I still maintain that what you have felt and written is remarkable,
> and I am not short of people to celebrate it with me. That does not
> mean that it is the only remarkable thing in the world, or that I wish
> I could have done it, or that I'd like to put you on some bleak and
> draughty pedestal, but neither does it mean that your gift is not
> special. God may love us all equally, but are we all pleasing Him
> equally? I dare say not.
> Pardon my belligerence. It is kindly meant, only I am in a spate of
> rebuffs (yours a particularly gracious and eloquent example). The Game
> is more fun when the ball is caught as well as pitched, but I will
> content myself with pitching for now.
> (Go long if you go at all.)
- Dear Michael,
If I may be permitted to disagree with you on one more point (though
you will probably prove once again that I am actually in rankled
agreement), I cannot believe egomania is your accomplice. If you were
claiming your own brilliance, that would be an option, but as you
are giving credit to another Source (and as that Source is so clearly
self-apparent), I can only see it as an offering.
I believe it is a good writer's duty to share his inspirations, just
as it is a gifted plumber's duty to fix drains and a talented
dentist's to pull teeth (God knows writing can be like pulling teeth
too). By share I mean offer (as you have done); not inflict (as
Although I myself have not even begun to write, I have already spent a
long time asking myself the rhetorical questions you pose. I believe
the process of publishing may carry with it the risk of self-doubt and
pride, but the act of not publishing (and I do consider any
abstinence an act), risks cowardice and false modesty. None are
terribly attractive, but the former seems the least devious opponent.
As for sporting dialogue, I was already out of my depth, but count me
in. Perhaps I will research further the language of Nettle Eating,
Worm Charming, Snail Racing, Cheese-Rolling and Bog-Snorkelling (all
official British sports). You can beat me to it here if you like, but
as usual we will probably find we are already on the same team:
* For anyone who is not familiar with fictional British aliens, Vogons
(first discovered by Douglas Adams) torture their captives by tying
them up and reading them dreadful poetry.