Bringing my grandchildren to spend the weekend at a local fair, I realized how we've turned into something else. The child in each of us has grown up and turned into a beastly monster. It reminded me of Disney's "Beauty and the Beast". I regret every word I said and every action I took in my life in those moments when I turned into a monster. Sadly, these children who are angels are caught in the web that we adults have spun and made for ourselves. It is time we gave these children the space to grow up and be happy. We're always living in the past, talking about past stories, experiences, instead of living in the present, cherishing the moment, taking in the hot cup of coffee, the air, the spicy food, the silence, etc. The children teach us to live in the present if only we take a moment to watch them. We have much to learn from them. But instead, we think that we are here to teach them. If souls never saw freedom, they were oppressed and censored in the past; these days, they should be given the space to express their thoughts freely and lead a life as they wish and desire. We often pray that one's soul rest in peace upon his death, but the truth is that each of us and our souls are here to attain that peace even while alive. Missing to attain it, we often say the above prayer with our condolences. How do we attain this peace? Pretty easy - through acceptance that brings peace.
There are two walls on either side as we walk the path that life has to offer us. One is painted in bright colors with murals and looks attractive, while the other is blank and dark. We often choose to look towards the bright and ignore the blank wall. The painted wall is the work of Maya, or shall we call her the Paintress, as in the game "Clair Obscur: Expedition 33" while the dark wall is reality. I understand now why, when a foreigner and seeker came before Bhagawan Ramana and asked for spiritual guidance, Bhagawan told him to gaze at the blank wall. The latter left after a while. At the beginning of our quest, we are pointed to beautiful statues and paintings, and pictures, and told to pray to them. We soon take up the details in them and enquire about them. We are often told stories of how the deities took on these forms. When we are ready to embark on the next phase and journey, a guru in the physical form comes to lead us within through Yoga. Soon we find our soul or Atma, and it continues to lead us to the Heavenly Kingdom. Even there and then, we are shown a beautiful and colorful painting. This, too, is Maya. Our true home is truly empty, blank, and silent. No forms, no images, no noise, no sound. Just existence. From this existence came forth the breath. From the breath came forth all actions. From actions came Karma. We start the never-ending life and death cycle. We can neither beat the Ego nor Maya without the grace of God, Spirit, Heavenly Father, Mother, Prapanjam - call it whatever you want. We shall never know it. Ramalinga Adigal, after attaining 15 of the 23 stages he talks about, tells us that there is even more that words cannot describe. So who are we kidding? As a devotee and friend told me recently that the Gurus are lost, and so are their followers. Indeed, the idea of walking the spiritual path is to let go and lose oneself. But if we look around, Godmen are building empires just like the kings, emperors, rulers of the past who conquered and expanded their rule, power, influence, belief, and faith.
I am glad that I did not fall for the many similar traps laid on my path during my short span of travel here. Dropping all the supposedly assumed purposes that I either took on or were projected on my screen, rejecting all the gifts, positions, and authority that came with them, I thought that maybe I had to fulfill the wishes of Tavayogi and Agathiyar to expand the wings and reaches of the Siddha path. But I came to find out that even that was not my job. I had told myself that I had failed in carrying out this task to their expectations, as I did not see new editions of Agathiyar Vanam take shape before my eyes, hoping to see them germinate and grow in my lifetime. I was carrying the weight of this disappointment when a devotee and friend to whom I spoke over the phone last night brought relief and balm to the pain and soreness that I carried, telling me that the seeds were sown and that it was a matter of germinating, if not now, later. It could take shape after my demise. It made sense, and I dropped my guilt. If I were to pass away this very moment, I would be at peace with myself.
She had written earlier that,
I believe that...they are all good people...but I also know how challenging the path is...sometimes a time out or breathing space is necessary...I did budge through my challenges because I knew knew there was nowhere else to turn...they will realize it too and come back. It is necessary aiya time out will help them they were allowed to go...when they return they would have learned and acquired spiritual knowledge, experience and spiritual maturity then only they will stay.
She who wrote about three kinds of souls and individuals, namely her canine who lived a contented, healthy life; those who struggle through simple aspects of conscious living; gave a mention to this servant of God, in her blog "Aakshara Wellness: Is It About Life Or Is It About Death?" I wrote back to her, asking if I deserve mention, looking back at the numerous sins I have committed and the many instances where I had stepped on others and stepped into their lives, leaving behind damage and hurt.
We are given "work" in the spiritual field to do, just as we have work in the material field for our sustenance and enjoyment. Just as we get attached to them in our daily lives, those in the spiritual path, too, are caught in this web and find it difficult to free themselves from its clutches. I understand now why Tavayogi, on the very onset, had taken me to see three heads of missions or gurus. Though I opted to go into the jungles and caves rather than meet them, after our surjourn in the jungles, he "insisted" we see them. He wanted me to show and teach me to be aware of the traps that would come my way, too, though I never understood nor figured them out then. One was eyeing the seat left vacant by his guru, of a mission, who had passed away. The other was caught up and trapped in the rituals and governing of a temple he had built. Finally, Tavayogi showed me the true saint who was wrapped in a blanket and sitting on a bed in a home in the cold of Ooty with the rain pouring and the night approaching. His only need for the moment was a hot cup of tea that a volunteer came by to make for him, and for us too.