Must Read: Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda

You should get on Amazon right now and order Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda. The digital version will cost you nothing! (Self-Realization Fellowship offers it at their cost and for digital it costs them zero). Regardless of your belief system or lack thereof, you will be enlightened, encouraged, charmed and blessed by the words of Yogananda as he describes his unique and compelling journey through life.

It may even be a life changer, and who couldn't use that? For free, no less! Many times, my stone heart was moved to tears during accounts of Mukunda's young life (Yogananda before his innitiation in to Kriya Yoga).

Yogananda writes with warmth and vividity, making his readers feel the chasmic depth of his devotion to his long sought after guru, Sri Yukteswar. The details of his youth leading up to the zenith event of meeting his beloved guru will be found identifiable by every member of humanity in his/her own search for meaning and happiness in this world.

Comforted and revived by the wisdom and countenance of his words, I have developed deep and unexpected love for Yogananda. At a time in my life when I had begun to question the existence of any god but especially a God as described by my Christian knowledge (a male human image, passing judgment from his throne and allowing unspeakable atrocities, even sending them himself as punishment and limiting his love to only those who were scripturally deserving), the truth of Yogananda's message that all of us are united under the same grand and non-human, non-gender specific benevolent Infinite Source was exactly the truth I needed to hear and the same truth I had naturally felt in my inner self from the time I was a child.

In case some of my Christian friends are rolling their eyes right now, the book is not at all anti-Christian or anti-anything. In fact, many times Sri Yogananda explains the words of Jesus and other prophets in such a way that even I can digest them, even agree with them and put them to good use. His words melt away the human lense that has caused so much false information to be flung at us through our indirect God experiences, ie: looking for the moon in the pond (reflection), rather than in the sky (direct experience). Zooming out to a place where every life form can be regarded as equal, significant, insignificant and Holy all at the same time is what humanity is craving, whether aware of it or not, myself included. Yogananda provides that rare vantage point but it comes in the guise of heartfelt and charming accounts of his own life. Through these accounts I was sucked out of my self-focused microcosm into a grand arena with a broader view of the cosmic landscape.

Dogma, doctrine and other man-made ideaologies are examined and exposed through the wisdom of Yogananda and his direct experience with the Infinite. Instead of conveying the knowledge by description alone, Yoganandaji encourages each of us to seek our own direct experience of the Infinite through the use of Kriya Yoga, an ancient meditation practice that is still not exactly clear to me (which is why I have decided to study his lessons leading up to it). Yogananda insists that anyone who applies this method (referred to as the secret key) in earnest can expect direct experience with the Infinite Source of All Life. I have come to believe that allowing one's Self to be directed by the Infinite Source at all times is key to effectiveness toward peace and happiness in the world.

In the days to come, I look forward to documenting my own successes or lack thereof as I stumble through the lessons from this great guru and apply them to my disasterous life. Those who are not seeking God experiences, already have God experiences first hand or those who never thought about it one way or the other; all will benefit from the rare account of Yogananda. So I encourage everyone to give it a read!

Today My Daughter Wants a Cat

My daughter, spiritually linked and obsessed with kittens since birth, has been given the opportunity by a well-meaning, evil teacher, to adopt a male, black cat. Excited beyond rationality, she calls me from home last night to tell me all the awesome details. "He's black and he's much younger than Cosmo (our other cat), he's already fixed and Mrs. Ezelle says we can have him and she'll even deliver him to our house!"  Her excitement is uncontainable. "You've been looking for another cat, mom, and you said that the Universe would send us one when we're supposed to have one and here he is!"

Now how could anyone argue with that kind of logic? I calmly responded, "I have not been looking for another cat! And anyway, if he's already fixed, he must be at least 6 months old, Katy, he won't get used to the dogs easily and he'll already be set in his ways. We need a tiny kitten. One we can raise with our other animals so it will not be afraid of them. Tell Mrs. Ezelle thank you, but her cat is meant for a different family."

Then she turns it on. For twenty minutes she put the hard core press on me, listing viamently the reasons why she needs this cat in order for the earth to continue rotating on its axis and the sun to come up tomorrow.

"We'll discuss it in the morning." I said. I had already said no, but then I said we'd discuss it some more. Amature. But it got her off the phone so I could continue my dinner with my friend.

The next morning, the first words out of her mouth upon waking, "He needs a home, mom, we can't just turn our backs on him! He's the cutest cat in the world and I know he wants to come live here with us. Mrs. Ezelle said he's very sweet and would make a great cat for someone!" Her face is red and wet with tears.

"If this is such an awesome, perfect cat, why doesn't Mrs. Ezelle just keep him?" I asked.

"Because she already has a dog, and because she's not home alot." Katy explained.

"We have three dogs and a cat and we're not home alot either. Would it be fair to this cat to bring him into our family under the circumstances? There is someone who needs him. Someone who lives alone, with no other pets or people. Someone out there is lonely and needs this cat. But not us!" I tried to reason with her, but she was beyond hearing it.

Quiet Rage stomped away from me in a ball of frustration. "You always say no, I knew you would say no, I don't even  know why I even asked you!" She yelled and slammed her bedroom door.

"I never say no! That's why we have three dogs!" I yelled up the stairs at her. I know just how she feels, though; a fact which makes me want to say yes. I love kittens too. Probably as much as she does. I would save every one of them if I could. But as it is, we are doing our part already with 3 rescued dogs and a rescued cat. Hey, I wonder if the pound has any baby kittens.

Be Here, A 2 minute poem

BE HERE

by melody hall-fuller

 

Anywhere you go

there you are

and if you aren’t there

then you should be

instead of wanting to be somewhere else,

get to the next place,

the last place,

any place but the place in which are standing Now.

Now you are here, or are you not?

Where are you, then?

Are you anywhere at all?

Maybe you are, or maybe not.

So go there or stay here

or be here or be there,

be anywhere as long as you're where you are

right now.

Right now

you are here.

You are the great I AM

So, be.
 

Message to My Ego

Dear Ego,

I am consistently amazed at your unique ability to look a blessing in the face and call it ugly names. I am admitting this to the world because it strikes a swift and accurate blow to your nuts, which I believe you not only deserve but will find helpful in the long run. Having something to bitch about is your favorite hobby. Makes you feel important, better, smarter. You love to complain. But you have a problem now.

I see you there! Pretending to be me, trapping me with thoughts that distract me from the truth. But I'll admit, you were good! For years I believed I WAS you. Brilliant, your constant chattering so that I couldn't hear my own voice. The way you would keep me in chains with your constant self crucifying tone or your overblown self grandeosity.

But now I see that you're only a clown, a mime. You're humorous the way you pull those flowers from your jacket. Flowers that squirt acid words that say I am not good enough. Or maybe they squirt false bravado and awesomeness. And your mime act is equally amusing now that I am not mistaking it for my own identity, swallowing words instead of speaking the truth. Patting the inside of the box in which you said the world has had me stored.

Now, I laugh when you do those things you do. The things that used to make me cry or feel far more powerful than the ones around me. Pretty soon you will get tired, your arms are already becoming exhausted from your fruitless white gloved antics. Your clown makeup will run with your sweat. You will lay down and sleep and I will only notice you on occasion when you muster enough strength for a weak honk of your red bulbous nose for old time's sake.

Until then I will continue to be slightly amused at your attempts at trickery. But you should no longer expect my cooperation nor my identification. Good Day.

**Spoilers** What I learned from Madagascar 3

As you probably know, the first two Madagascar movies depict a group of comical animal friends trying to get back home to the New York Zoo. Stranded in an unfamiliar and untame Madagascar, they all remember the zoo as a place of perfection, provision and safety. Through a myriad of unfortunate events, they are ever prevented from reaching their only goal in life, getting home.  Throughout the first 2 movies the animals had experienced wild adventure, near death experiences, open wilderness and treachery of all kinds. Madagascar 3 is a continuation of their efforts to reach the destination that in their minds is ideal.
After succeeding in purchasing a dying circus, inspiring its tired members and transforming it into an amazing show, the animals finally made it home to their New York Zoo. Standing at the metal bars of the zoo gate, they gazed in shock at the smallness of the painted African mural and hard brick walls between their cages. Although the zoo had not changed, it was not what they remembered. Idealized for so long, the zoo fell short of each of their imaginations. It was not the open plains of Africa or the thrill of the circus high wire. The animals had grown too much to go back there. The dream was empty. All at once, they realized that the thing that was a mere vehicle to the dream of getting home, was the real source of their joy. They return to the circus, everyone is happy and the movie is over. Polka Dot Afro!

What does this have to do with anything? Well, what I took home from the movie was that its ok to change the dream, shift gears, admit its not what you want anymore and look for the joy. Evaluate what you're doing and why you are doing it. Wig out if you need to. Nothing else matters at the end of your life except whether you had any joy and whether or not you had any joyous effect on other people. We all belong where the joy is. Joy is a clue to your destiny. If you don't have any, that's your first clue!

Midnight again...but its different now

I'm supposed to be in bed, fast asleep right now. I tried, I truly did. But alas, I am back up after 2 hours of flipping and flopping in the bed. I stumbled upon my blog in which I have posted nothing for over 6 months now. Reading back through all of the entries, one word kept coming to my mind. "Pretentious." Everythng I had written up to this point was so pretentious, as if I were writing merely to get a reaction or to try and impress you guys. I realized how far I had come in the last 6 months and I had to write about it, even at the risk of losing some of you as friends (you might think I'm dangerous!)

Getting real with myself, a very painful thing to do if you haven't tried it, has left me kind of bitter toward that stupid me who thought she was the bomb, writing about "The Now" and broken coffee cups. Writing about "The Now" would have been interesting to read over the last 6 months if I had kept that up. You would have seen entries like, "Right Now...I have no religion, no support network, no means of self support, no talent, no job, no purpose, no peace, no balance and no self control", all in that old pretentious tone and with the expected sniveling and carrying on. Good thing I'm too flaky to keep up the blog, right?

Today, because I am still struggling with the circadian thing, I am frustrated, to say the least, with my inability to function during the day. Mostly, I sleep during the day. But that is small potatoes, and anyway, sleeping all day has its benefits. Being partially asleep and partially lucid lets one in on a few secrets that are otherwise locked away.  Such as, the fact that I was a very angry person. Over the last year I have felt as if I were losing my mind. Losing my ability to come up with any rational plan or method of coping with every day stuff. Things I see you all do with ease were getting hard for me, like getting dressed everyday or showing up for things. Not to mention the fact that I no longer knew what I believed anymore. When people know you're going through something that they can't solve, they tend to disappear, and I don't blame them. In fact, its good. Without the aloneness and rock bottom hitting, I doubt I would have ever made it out with what I needed.

Over the last 6  months, I filled 2 journals with whining, bitching commentary on how crappy everything was and how life had screwed me over. I realized that I was very angry. With what or whom I had no idea, specifically, and still don't really. It felt like I hated everything and everyone. Everywhere I looked I saw stupidity, inequality, dishonesty (even in the places I trusted the most), cruelty, suffering and pain. It became unbearable to be awake at times. I was angry because I had to be here, tethered to this sucky planet with no way out. Looking around at the "Stepford People" bopping through life happy to be alive, pretending (I thought they must be) to be thrilled to have the privelege of being moms and wives made me completely resentful and threw into sharp relief that which I was wasn't. Happy.

Why am I sharing this? I'm not sure. Maybe some of you are struggling with something too and need to know that you are not alone and that it can get better. (Or maybe I just need to write it for myself.)

How it got better:   I started reading alot, searching for some ideas that would pull me out of the funk. What I found out, after reading The Tao, The Bhagavad Gita, The Golden Present and many other writings, yes, including the bible, I realized that no one knows anything for certain. There is so much freedom in admitting that you don't know anything and in realizing that no one else does either (and if they say they do, they are either delusional or they are lying). Freedom was what I lacked, it's absence was why I was so angry. I began dropping the idea that I had to believe something. I dropped the idea that I had to BE this or BE that. 

Who was to blame for this lack of freedom? Me.

My imprisonment was self-inflicted. The bars were made out of my own ideas (and those pressed upon me over the years), the ideas that I had about what others expected of me. I began to think, "What is the worst thing that can happen if I just be who I really am, say what I know in my heart is right, do what I know in my heart is right to do, wear what I want to wear and help people in the way that I think is the right way to help people, treat people the way that I know in my heart is the right way to treat people".  Free from the worry that comes with not measuring up to what others want you to be. Free from the fear of being sent to hell by a god who supposedly loved me, that was a big one. Free from the cookie baking mom syndrome. Free from the comparisons. Freedom to be honest about my disagreement with issues that Christianity condemns, such as homosexuality and religious equality or free to simply love without condemnation.

 Once I dropped the ideas, what was left was love, truth and yes, surprisingly, joy. It feels like I am a different person entirely. One with no agenda other than to love everyone and everything, one with no expectations other than to be fully aware of the moment. One who does not pretend to know the truth about god, whatever that may be. Saving spiders instead of squashing them. Rescuing dogs even though its inconvenient and expensive. Saving drowning beetles from the pool filter. Its not stupid, its right, and compassionate and its me. Showing compassion when I feel it toward everything, whether society thinks its worth it or not.

What I learned:
Freedom is the cure, Love is the the same as god and joy comes from the freedom to love. Now if I can just get some sleep!

Breaking Hard Ground: A Commentary on the Writing Process

As I work on my first novel to be shared with the public in October, I am surprised that the writing process has very little to do with my own "effort" and so much more do to with just being willing to notice the truth when it appears in subtle ways.

Sometimes I hear people say that they get an idea so complete that it pours into this world like a waterfall from somewhere unseen and unknown. Mostly for me, an idea pours into this world more like tar; slow, sticky, messy and requiring much labor to force it into a form that will eventually lead to something worthwhile.

It is these tar ideas that are the most exciting and the most able to spark a shift in perspective both for myself and those who read them. These tar stories, however demanding and laborious, are the ones that grow me personally and spiritually during the writing process. Hardly ever do these ideas end up telling the stories I thought they wanted to tell in the beginning. Instead there is some larger truth that wants to be known through them; a truth that doesn't care what I started out to write about.

To be honest, tar is probably the wrong analogy because tar is man-made, lifeless matter. Perhaps tar ideas have to begin dead because of my own tendency not to recognize that ideas are, in themselves, living things. But once the tar is mixed with the gravel of my own experience a road can be paved that actually leads to something semi important even if it isn't alive.

But for the real truth, the life itself to appear, I have to wait. Just like wildflowers, real truth grows without actually being planted by any"body". In fact, this process has nothing to do with my own efforts whatsoever, except that I am open to seeing them. Not creating them. Not planting them or growing them, but merely noticing them there and then pointing to them so others can see them too.

Finally, wild "life" grows itself throughout the whole of my tar and gravel pathway. Those wild truths exist there on display against an unlikely habitat for all to see. A daisy here. A dandelion there. The hope is that they will be noticed and those who take the time to appreciate them will be a little better off for having had the chance to see. Otherwise its just a road.