Embody Shakti

Co-emergent Wisdom

I am more than immensely attracted to the images of funeral pyres, cremation grounds, rattles, bones, and the fierce Goddesses of Tantric lore. I feel the deep stirring of wildness in me when I view these symbols, or even read of them. Lately it seems some deeper karmas are up. Feelings and experiences coming up to the surface that I haven't been in contact with in a long time. They are almost like old friends. I am almost happy to see them. Almost. This time I know their facades and masks. This time, arising along with the confusions and deep emotions they bring, there is a co-arising of crystal clarity. Not from analysing or deduction. Not from hindsight. Right in the moment. Confusion and clarity emerging at once. A mirror of seeing exactly what is happening at the same time of being immersed in the emotional intensity of the experience. I feel these old karmas coming up to be liberated. But "I" do not liberate. This is Chinnamasta devi in my experience. Her sword cutting through all dualities and immediatley perceiving truth.  The experience still has to happen. No aversion, no repression. No embracing either. The same actions happen, but with freedom. The shift from one consciousness to another may be outwardly imperceptible. Actions look the same, yet their originating source is from a place of unbridled and un-obscured presence. Desire still looks like desire, grief still looks like grief, etc..There is no repression, no reaction. Only riding the purity of energy as it moves and changes.

Passionate space.

"Homage to the immaterial, immaculate, sky equilibrium.

Homage to the wordless illiterate entirety.

Homage to the utterly pure, transcendent and wordly.

Homage to the empty, absolutely everything."

-UMA

Hsssssssssss...........

Yesterday I thought of 5 different things to post. While driving. No place to write them down. Now they are gone. You just can't push a river. Its flow must be respected. However, this has left me with the inquiry into what those incredible moments of opening and flow are in relationship to. What is their source? I know, I know, the answer is the incredible, vibrating impulse of Shakti that pervades everything. But my inquiry has more to do with what makes me more open to that source at some times more than others? Yesterday, in the car, it was just open, flowing, tangible, textural. My passion was  open so wide I thought it would consume me. And I was giving myself willingly to be consumed. My own capacity for feeling almost overwhelmed me. And I was only driving. I did not set up sacred space. I did not have candles and incense lit. I was not doing mantra. I was bumper to bumper on the 5 South. It was exquisite. Life was touching me from the inside out. I did not need Rumi, Hafiz, or Lalla to create an experience of the beloved. I was in my own poem titled " Sadhana Side Effects." Have you heard the saying "taking your yoga off the mat?" This is what sadhana does. You begin to embody the qualities of the mahavidya you are in worship to. It just integrates. You express your life through the vehicle of Her consciousness. But even that last sentence is not entirely correct. "You" do not express anything. The consciousness you are in contact with expresses itself. Not a contrived stereotype or an emulation. Not to be "good enough" or "saintly enough". Not even to be "spiritual" enough.

It seems for me that, at this time, the consciousness expressing is the wisdom and power of passion. The movement of desire. Wildness, rapture, ardor and appetite. I cannot get full. I can only rest in the full feeling of these textures and apreciate the inner union, the flashes of insight, and respond to the inner touch. Its mystical and magical and smack, dab, in the middle of the 5.

Incandescence

in·can·des·cence

1 a : white, glowing, or luminous with intense heat b : strikingly bright, radiant, or clear c : marked by brilliance especially of expression <incandescent wit> d : characterized by glowing zeal

2 a : of, relating to, or being light produced by incandescence b : producing light by incandescence

                                                                    -merriam-webster

1.The emission of visible light by a hot object.

2.The light emitted by an incandescent object.

3.A high degree of emotion, intensity, or brilliance

                                         -answers.com

My work in the world is about guiding other women to rest in the depth of their femininity.  To touch the wildness at the center of their being. To feel the incandescence of their desire. The tricky bit is to bring in the awareness that there is a consciousness in all of this. There is a wisdom in which the way desire moves within us. Desire creates the bridge of connection for the yogini.  Its not escapism. It's not "girls gone wild." Egad, I hate that I even have to write that. Woman's wild nature is so misunderstood, so untapped, feared, ridiculed, belittled, must I go on?  Our wild nature does not lie in the gestures created by a culture that wants to turn women into the ultimate consumers by telling them constantly they are not thin enough, sexy enough, or desirable enough. Our wild nature lies in the incandescence of joyful experience of being a creature of nature. That we ARE nature. To recognize that we are un-owned, alive, and tremoring with the pulsations of life. Not some emulation of a perfected life with a frozen grin. We are blood and bone, fire and grit, saliva and sweat, encased around a pearl of such exquisite softness that it puts to shame those who look for the holy grail elsewhere.

Waking the Dream Mind

I am gaining my equilibrium from a very rich weekend leading a workshop in Big Sur. In alignment with the Fall equinox, we focused on our harvests and bravely spoke of what no longer serves us. The things that are just too heavy to carry for another turn around the wheel of the year.  And, of course, we danced. We danced what cannot be spoken. The places that have no language. Where duality ceases to exist. Where the dream mind and body opens sooooo deeply that the logical mind can't possibly interpret what happened. Where emptiness is no other than form and form is no other than emptiness? And, really, it doesn't matter because you are just in it. You are it. The looking, searching, analyzing cannot exist in this union. Its too spacious. The spaciousness renders these things insignificant. You see everything through this experience of direct contact. The trees, the smells of sage and brush, the ocean saltiness, and the reverberations of the sound of laughter that communicates to you that the whole universe is laughing.

Then.....how do you go back to Monday? Back into the segmented and fragmented realms of daily life? Back to the washing dishes, grocery shopping, bill paying?  Oh, and, yes, the helicopter I am hearing now. And so on and so forth. How do we bring the joy of the dream mind into these spaces?

Through practice and acceptance. Its a given that deep retreat will open up the sensitivities. We become a participating observer of the turbulence of re-entry. We used to like bumpy rides when we were kids, right?  Allowing, but not feeding, the bumps, stops and starts. Equanimity and breath allow the dream mind to pierce the veil of fragmentation of the logical mind. And then, perhaps, you notice something different when you are doing the dishes. You don't seem to mind so much.

Ashes to ashes

photo: Ritu Lahiri

Bhairavi Sadhana
Day 32

Today there was peace.

Today there was time stretched out as long as the horizon making me feel eternal and immortal.

Today there was awareness of the preciousness of life.
This awareness being carved by the contemplation and conversation of the inevitability of death.

Today there was deep silence broken by uproarious fits of belly shaking laughter.

Today there was birth of song and story.

Today there was baptism.
The foam of the ocean waves bubbling around our ankles

Speaking a secret language which beckoned us to immerse and awaken.

Today there was the infusion of earth, air, water and fire.

The fire.

Licking the air.

Consecrating with ash, floating like fairies on to my blanket.

Blessings from Bhairavi.

Destiny

Bhairavi Sadhana
Day 25

 

The Gods have meant
That I should dance
And in some mystic hour
I shall move to unheard rhythms
Of the cosmic orchestra of heaven
And you will know the language
Of my wordless poems
And will come to me

For that is why I dance.

                       -Ruth St. Denis

Behind the Veil

Bhairavi Sadhana
Day 16

Last night I had a dream that I was brought to a church. Upon entering there were 4 abbots there ready to listen to my lecture. Three men and one woman. I began. I spoke directly and from the heart regarding the feminine wisdom of Shakti traditions that I am being schooled in. Two of the men turned away. How rude! The dilemma was there. The choice. Do I stop in the face of their dis-courtesy or do I continue onward despite the challenge of not having their attention? Any of you out there who are teachers know how crucial a students presence is to the emergence of the teachings. I continued on. A text appeared in my hand. An old book. Ancient is more like it. Vibrant threads of blue, red and yellow were carefully sewn in the text. I spoke about these threads. The two men returned their attention. As the way dreams go, I cannot remember the text I was reading. But I knew it. I concluded by putting down the text and looking at everyone squarely, directly and with love saying, "I have studied and done worship to Goddesses from all different cultures. But it was Mary who brought me in." It felt strongly like a way of saying, "See? We all know Her. We know Her by different names, but we all know Her.

My first introduction to the Goddess was Mary. Both my biological father's and my step-father's family were catholic. The weddings were my favorite. I remember at the early ages of 5 or 6 sitting during the ceremony waiting on pins and needles for the song 'Ave Maria' to begin. The song was so stirring. That is when the bride would leave her husband-to-be and walk over to Mary, kneel and light a candle while everyone waited. This had the most profound effect on me. Who was this woman the bride went to go meet? Why did she kneel and how could such a simple act hold my gaze so transfixed? There was such a special, intimate quality between the bride and Mary. More intimate than the ceremony between husband and wife in my eyes. I wanted to get married. But only to have that moment with Mary. No other reason. These were the moments that devotion began to stir within me. The moments that I knew a veil existed between us and something secret, mysterious, and beautiful. It began so early. The desire to lift the veil. I have been on that quest ever since.

Yearning

Bhairavi Sadhana
Day 8

Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river
You can hear the boats go by
You can spend the night beside her
And you know that she's half crazy
But that's why you want to be there
And she feeds you tea and oranges
That come all the way from China
And just when you mean to tell her
That you have no love to give her
Then she gets you on her wavelength
And she lets the river answer
That you've always been her lover
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that she will trust you
For you've touched her perfect body with your mind.

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"
But he himself was broken
Long before the sky would open
Forsaken, almost human
He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone
And you want to travel with him
And you want to travel blind
And you think maybe you'll trust him
For he's touched your perfect body with his mind.

Now Suzanne takes your hand
And she leads you to the river
She is wearing rags and feathers
From Salvation Army counters
And the sun pours down like honey
On our lady of the harbour
And she shows you where to look
Among the garbage and the flowers
There are heroes in the seaweed
There are children in the morning
They are leaning out for love
And they will lean that way forever
While Suzanne holds the mirror
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that you can trust her
For she's touched your perfect body with her mind.

                                    -Leonard Cohen

Tripura Bhairavi

Tripura Bhairavi Sadhana.
Day Two.

How does one operate in life with such intoxication? I want to join the Sufi's and twirl with divine madness under the indigo blue night sky, the field from which Bhairavi emerges and coalesces into her ruby red essence. I understand what it means to be a Lover. I want to wander as She does roaring into the vastness of space igniting flame to reach up and touch the bliss of soma as it drips down offering itself into the consuming hunger of Agni. I want to walk up to strangers and stare into their eyes like a mad crone, lick them clean of their obscurations and invite them to join in the Dance. I want to ride upon the restless and wandering tiger of passionate space while the inner stillness unites me with my beloved regardless of reference or direction. Tap, tap, tap.......dancing the form back to its primordial elements and celebrating in the cemetary of all that is burned away.

Lalla's Dance

I was crumpled on the floor in a sweaty, exhausted, glowing mess. I still had my gaze fixed on the dance floor and the other members of the sangha I am in community with in my continued education with Parvathi Nanda Nath Saraswati Many of them were still dancing exuberantly while celebrating this previous year of sadhana and practices together. Joy. 

It was truly a joyous weekend for me. I felt so present and open. The synchronicity of Parvathi's teachings was that we were being given the practices of mahamudra. The teachings that point to the experience of presence. This was such a contrast to the Bagalamukhi sadhana I had done, that I found myself thanking Bagala continuously for my joy as I knew it was she who brought me to the ripeness of practicing mahamudra.

All this was swirling in me as I leaned into the wall for support while watching the dance of the other sangha members continue. Then a tall, slim, woman started to dance towards me. She was coming to invite me back into the dance. During the last 10 months I did not have much contact with her. I did not know her name. Such was the nature of the year. Long distance students coming in and out, that some of us would not encounter each other. But here she came, arms outstretched, reaching for my hands. In an instant, I could feel all the excuses (all legitimate and authentic) for not accepting her offer. I was exhausted. I needed to catch my breath. I was thirsty. I wanted to watch every one else for a moment. But when her hands touched mine, I went. I couldn't believe I went! I found myself back on my feet, back in the dance. I was amazed at my lack of hesitation. The way in which I glided to my feet with no effort or strain. How open my heart was and how willingly I went. This was an experience of pure presence. Life was inviting me back into the Dance  and I said Yes, Yes, a thousand times YES! There were no words spoken between us. Just the invitation offered and the receiving of the offering. Merging into the experience. In that moment, I had become naked, relieved of being clothed by my hindrances, obscuration and excuses. 

The soul.

Like the moon, is now, and always new again.

My teacher told me one thing, live in the soul.

When that was so, I began to go naked,

And dance.

         -Lalla