Mirabai Sings For Me

Shiva Statue, Rishikesh IndiaI started this journey with a longing for simplicity: sit, breathe, and be present from moment to moment throughout the day. I really wasn't looking to replace the clutter of busy San Francisco life with the clutter of India's spiritual scene - more gurus, more techniques, more fast tracks to Enlightenment. In fact, I was a little resistant to come to India for this reason, and I was admittedly resistant to the world of Hinduism, Babas, and Swamis.

I walked into the English language bookstore yesterday near the Lakshman Jula Bridge, and after a couple of minutes of just looking at all the books, I thought to myself: "Wow, human beings really like to write stuff!" - more gurus, more catchy titles, more books books books. What was I doing here?

Well, a certain Hindu saint has been helping to melt my hardened resistance, and her name is Mirabai. She was part of the Bhakti (devotional) renaissance of India in the 15th and 16th centuries. I found a book of her poems in the corner of the store and soon discovered why I was in the bookstore.

I read the following poem and thought that it was the perfect description of the last couple months of my life (although maybe exaggerated a bit with poetic license). She has saved me the trouble of finding words and now she sings to me...
MirabaiO ye saints and holy men,
I have seen the world and it's ways
I left brothers and relatives
And all I possessed.
Dispensing with worldly shame,
I came to sit with the holy men.
I felt joy in the company of the devotees,
On beholding the world I wept.
I planted the creeper of love
And watered it with my tears.
I churned the curds
And drew forth the ghee:
The butter-milk I rejected.
The King sent me a cup of poison,
I drank it down with joy.
Mira's love has set in deeply,
She accepts whatever comes.
I must give credit to Open Dharma for softening me to the joy of a truly "open" dharma. During the 40 day Sat Tal retreat, they read from Mirabai, Khabir, the Yoga Vashisht, as well as many other non-Indian saints and sages. I'm now enjoying all the diversity of these teachers as music against the backdrop of a still present simplicity.

I'll quickly give some of the meaning of this poem for me, even though I could just let the meaning stand on it's own for you. Here goes...

"ye saints and holy men" - All of you out there reading this
"I left relatives" - yup
"I came to sit with the holy men." - Wonderful teachers I've been blessed to meet so far!
"the company of the devotees," - oh, such lovely friends too!
"On beholding the world I wept." - Free Tibet!
"watered it with my tears." - Not many tears on this recent retreat (except maybe day 29)
"I churned the curds" - Meditation
"the ghee" - Wisdom
"The butter-milk" - The more-than-enoughness of life.
"The King sent me a cup of poison," - The 'gifts' of the world, like stepping in cow shit or the smell of burning plastic.
"I drank it down with joy." - Oh, India!
"Mira's love has set in deeply," - Post-retreat bliss
"She accepts whatever comes." - Oh, India!

And, coincidentally, right now, in the internet cafe, they are playing a really funny song that the teachers decided to play at the completion of the 40 day retreat, the lyrics shout out enthusiastically: All Izz Well!
Here it is, enjoy~

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