When the Saints Go Marching In

When the Saints Go Marching In

Tuesday, 26 August 2014: I have to say. This thing they call meditation? Pretty freaking cool.

Before the Siri Singh Sahib’s teachings and I found each other, I’d been fed all sorts of hogwash by all sorts of well-meaning people.

“When you meditate, you will be at peace”. “You will see a light moving towards you”. “Time will fly by.” “You will feel still and calm… completely relaxed.”

 

But but but…I am not at peace; rather my mind rakes up some serious filth from dark, scary corners that I didn’t even know existed.

Nope, no light moving towards me; only me running after random specks and swivels forming and vanishing under my eyelids.

Time most certainly NOT flying by; I mean, there is the Hare and the Tortoise, and then there is the Snail, you know? Every second.. every blistering second..!!

Still and calm? It’s like a bag of ferrets let loose in my body with all the itching and twitching. ANY excuse to take a break. Oh! Need to use the bathroom. Oh! Throat is dry. Oh! Hair on my forehead just moved. Oh! Ran out of excuses so going to go and look for another one.

Yeah, like that wan.

So either all those well-meaning people didn’t tell me the full story, or I’m just so damn cursed that nothing will save me.

Optimist that I am, I’m going with the first possibility :p.

I now know, thanks to the Siri Singh Sahib/ Yogi Bhajan/ Yogi Ji, that my experience is perfectly normal. The thought that I’m normal is as alien to me as it probably is to many of you, but I’m (obviously) inclined to agree with him. Not that it isn’t possible to have a beautiful and blissful meditation, which many do, and even I have been blessed to have had on some occasions. But on the whole, it’s a lot of work. The mind is like a pit with all sorts of creepy crawlies multiplying in there… cleaning it takes time, persistence, and perhaps most of all, constance.

You can ask a thousand people about their meditative experience, and probably hear just as many versions of it. Everyone has their own creepy crawlies, and every moment presents different ones. For me, in the midst of all the Filth and Specks and Snails and Ferrets, I’ve come to realise that meditation ignites the tiny (and suppressed) creative side of my (accountant) brain. Thoughts and sentences and projects take shape in my head, and By God I am a Genius for thinking up most of these. We’re talking some serious smarts here, people.

(Note to self: Ego getting out of hand… attention required! :p)

What I love most about these ignitions are the Lightbulb Moments that often follow. Epiphanies, revelations, perspective. They rush in; racing and stumbling over each other, in an absolute hurry to make themselves be heard and known. A reminder to this host body, wallowing in self-pity, consumed by negativity and engrossed in the “why me” complex, that you are so completely blessed it is almost ridiculous. Outrageous that one little person, in the context of this ever-expanding universe, can be so wholly bathed/ drenched (almost drowning!) in blessings.

And so it was Lightbulbed to me on this morning of Yogi Ji’s birthday, while (attempting; got to be honest) to meditate at Chayo. During the Guru Ram Das chant, I thought to myself, you blessed, blessed, blessed girl, everywhere you turn, you are surrounded by divine sanggat.

 

My own little Saints, EVERYwhere. Our home has always had a Darbar; I have known no loneliness amongst the pillars that are my family. I have the Ulu Yam clan; the laps in which I have grown. My Samelan community; from which has emerged a lifelong supply of friends and inspiration. My London soul sisters and brothers; whom I have no words to describe, but cherish with a London-shaped hole in my heart. My sisterhood from Women’s Camp; who make being beautiful, bountiful, and blissful seem so easy. The Setapak sangees; who I sing and seek with during rainbows and stormclouds. The Chayo family; that I cling on to for doses of sanity in the eye of the city-life hurricane. My husband and newly-gained NM family; which I’m so so so grateful for, knowing that I have the BEST company on the roads that lie ahead. EVERYwhere.

My markers, my checkpoints, my lift-uppers, my guiding forces, my rocks. There is no escape from these stalkers, I tell you. At every step of the way, every bend in the road, every climb uphill and every bumble down below, they stand there, glowing so bright that it hurts my eyes and brings me to my knees in gratitude.

My Beloved Guru, thank you, thank you, thank you, for marching in all these Saints to keep an eye on this little person.

I see you, each of you. I thank you, love you, bless you, pray for you, bow to you, and hold you in the lightest and brightest corners of my heart.

All my love.

Please read the original article here: http://www.sikhnet.com/news/when-saints-go-marching

---