journals

Excerpts from the Lost and Found

Here are a few poems and prose dedicated the return of my lost journals. These humble writings and musings would have been lost within the empty cell of my mind had they not made their way back to me after one full year of being missing. I simply flipped through at random and selected the 3 pieces below. This will be an ongoing series so stay tuned…

Two of my most prized Journals. The two books are full of writings from India, and my travels across the globe.

A Love that’s Hard to Come By

I curl up in the bed beside you and feel the warmth of your deep sleep.  For a long time I have dreamed of this dream I now live.  The comfort of your waking arms pulling me close is precisely what my heart dreams for them to do.  You are my embrace, you are my Queen.  Not a single pair of eyes have seen a fairytale like this.  The chance of our meeting and the passion that exists thereafter is truly hard to come by.

Tyagaraja and Gunjen in a taxi South Bombay

Going Home (this prose was turned into a song that was written in the Mic booth during recording sessions of “Open Book.”)

The Warriors have met their match no battle for the timid.  The mountain’s high and the moon is low, my blood is slowly thickened.  A question for my old man, “can you hear their footsteps?”  I wonder if we’ll make it back with a trophy I don’t feel like saving.  I’m sailing out to meet her now riding on a spaceship.   It’s the bluest sky I’ve ever seen, now I know that She’s my maker.  Going Home…  The palaces awaiting me are filled with all of the undead.  They’ve never lived and always were a homage to my forbears.  Simple men live out their lives no glory for their presence.  A photograph and a broken back is sounding just like heaven.  Is this Heaven?  We’re Going Home…  The calendar says it’s March I swear I have no reference.  I’m out of touch and I’ve lost my head thank God I’ve been de-programmed, you were programmed now you can let it go, and Go Back Home…  This one’s for all those I’ve loved I hold you in my heart’s blood.

Sirsasan in Rishikesh

Words from my Teacher’s Mouth (these words are unrecorded and have never been repeated.  It wouldn’t mean anything to anyone to have them disappear other than me.  I’m so glad to have these sweet pieces of truth back in my hands.)

-1,000’s of channels leading to the brain draw in energies of cosmic nature.  Whenever we have Divine attributes and our inner connection to the Divine cosmos, we grow spiritually.  Commotion begins with the end or discarding of spiritual practices.  This is how we loose our inner connection with the eternal Divine Spirit.  We must witness the Cosmic electrical energy working through the heart and creating Samadhi or Shanti in the mind spirit and body.  We make so many constructions and work in the world yet little work is done on the inside.  The nerves send messages to the brain and the body reacts.  If we focus our efforts in daily meditation to send our love and energy to our selves and to all of the world we are sending energy in the same way our bodies do.  This energy will be felt by all that cross your path and by all of creation.  This inner work is work worth giving the effort.

-A teacher is a noble post, a pillar in society.  A pure teacher is always thinking about the elevation of the student.  A Mother is always thinking about the care of Her children.  The Love of Radha is in all Love.  A bird Mother feeding her babies from her own mouth… a River Mother is with love and responsibility taking care and nurturing all along the banks of the river.  Like this, Love needs no language.  Love is felt in the heart by all beings.  Give love with every action.

Tyagaraja on tour with Amma Sri Karunamayi 2008

Click this link to read a piece called Dealing with Loss, written a week after my Journals were thought to be lost forever

Click this link to read Summer Fest a Day of Mourning, written 3 months before getting my journals back. I never lost hope

Summer Fest a Day of Mourning…

Keep your stuff in sight, some people just wanna steal thangs… One year ago this Summer Fest 3 of my journals where stolen in a laptop bag. I’m still in mourning. Summer Fest has bitter-sweet memories for me… I know it may be silly to mourn my journals when there is so much sadness and blood shed in the world, but I can’t help it, it hurts…

Let’s be honest, putting something together like Free Press Summer Fest is a huge undertaking.  Things aren’t made any easier if people jack you of your most prized possessions in the process.  Yes, this self proclaimed yogi has prized possessions and attachments.  Many people connected with me at that time to give support and lend some help.  Cactus Music even helped getting in the twitter game to bring them back to me.  I’m still not over it.  One year ago I lost my most precious musings.  3 full notebooks spanning over 8-10 years of my life… things I have written down from my teachers mouth, and priceless images of my travels in India.  Completely irreplaceable memories and some of my best lifelong writings.  There are no copies.  People told me there was a deeper meaning and that all that work was still inside me.  I responded to that in an earlier blog here: Dealing with Loss.  So Summer Fest in Houston Texas is now attached with these feelings for me.   We will be performing the festival again this year and I’ll have to dedicate a portion to my books. I am still hoping and praying that whom ever stole my precious books has been living with them, reading them and somehow reads this blog and decides that the best thing to do is bring them back to me.  If you have any information about where they may be, call a brotha…

Get Summer Fest tickets if you dare here:   Summer Fest Tickets

For now I’ll turn you to a poem I wrote while in India this last time around.  It’s more like a love letter to my books I suppose.  Sorry it’s a bit dim, that’s what blogs are about sometimes I suppose… a cry out…

My Darlings

I miss you my darlings.

Your words stay in my heart but your faces don’t show themselves long enough for me to make any sense of it all…  Will I ever remember those thousands of precious words?  Those beautiful words and their limitless meanings and potential.  I hold them so dear.  Are they within me?  Or are they in limbo lost in the dancing space?

I hear some songs ringing clearly reminding me of those precious experiences and awakenings.  Some tunes never come to mind they were never meant to be I suppose… Locked in a vault of the stolen prison of my mind on paper.  My hand transcends the message and the words lived and breathed the manifestation of my body.  Those soft pages held the fragrance of my soul.

The Books as a whole represent the legacy of my life.  Where are you my darlings??? I will forever be in search for you…

two of my precious babies, and the rare mercury sri chakra murti I found in India

starting over...

We'll be in the wooded area again this year trying to give some free yoga lessons and what not, maybe you could bring my books back to me...

India Journals 2010

“I was so touched by this revelation I released a few tears—of course at that moment I hadn’t slept in 24 hrs and I always get hyper-emotional when I’m depraved of sleep.”

 

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India Journals 2010

…After the long journey I’ve passed through two Northern Indian cities.  I’ve flown from America to Delhi, and traveled by train to Haridwar a city solely dedicated to the mighty Sri Gangaji.

 

 

 

Throughout the flight to India I made many simple yet profound discoveries.  My mental capacity and self awareness is expanding rapidly and can now be easily accessed.  There were many times when my eyes told me to sleep and my mind refused to listen.  I looked around and saw blood shot eyes and swollen blushing skin on the faces of my fellow passengers aboard the time machine.  I know I looked as beaten and exhausted as they did yet inside I was raging with power-stamina.  All I have to do is utter some simple words mentally and the energy not just to endure but to thrive with Golden Luster comes to rest inside my skin and bones.  All my fellows in the time capsule caused me to truly feel as if we are soaring to another dimension.  I wondered if this is what it will be like in the future, on a travel excursion to other galaxies—other dimensions.  Not to sound like a Star Trek freak but really!  Instead of stowing our luggage in the over head compartments we’ll lay down in them and hibernate.  The 1st class of course has the king-size chambers and all the untouchables will have to share space, all breathing each other’s anomaya kosha (energy that surrounds the physical body).  The flight attendants will not be pulling little beverage carts, they will be pulling their floating bodies along, responding at any beckon call to the hibernation units.  (My dyslexia is dramatically enhanced when I come here like being on the other side of the world makes my brain think backwards.)

                I saw something of a deep yet simple lesson in the flight attendants.  Long after finishing my meal and having the hallucination about the futuristic time travel machine I arose to stretch and use the lavatory.  I came upon the flight attendants sitting in the back of the plane finally having their meals and the lesson is obviously this:  They served everyone else on board first—and not just served but smiled and glowed and made you feel like your comfort and happiness was of upmost importance to them. And yes they receive payment for their service, but not enough to suffer through hours long flights, some overnight with some patrons are no so loving and kind… some patrons harass and cause problems and still their service is done with full smiles and loving hearts. And just like mothers they don’t rest or eat until every last one of us is cared for.  I felt inspired to be that selfless with my life… to share more to love.  To place others before me—even in simple circumstances.  I was so touched by this revelation I released a few tears—of course at that moment I hadn’t slept in 24 hrs and I always get hyper-emotional when I’m depraved of sleep. 

SPONTANEOUS POEM

We are held captive to our own beliefs

Shatter the foretold with a surprise

Minds mixed with words during the sunrise…

a heart that longs is a heart that carries on

So much to see, so much to experience

So much living to be had

The course of time stops a hear beat

Save for the rebirth?  Can we make it?

 

IMG_4206I’m wearing the same sweat laden close for the past 3 days now simply because I don’t wish to keep washing clothes everyday—besides it helps me fit in with the backpacking hippy scene here.  I came by way of Delhi then Haridwar to Rishikesh—a mountain town that I am taking a supreme liking to.  Continuing my experiment, I allow my feet to be guided by the energy of Mother Earth to lead me home to other energies that suit me in many ways.  I first tried this with my hotel in Haridwar.  Not knowing at all which streets to turn I found my Hotel with ease.  Straight after arriving by train (at a place polluted with anxiety, pushing and shoving, people jumping out at you for “Rickshaw!”, selling things, the smell of waste and urine…) I would just breathe deeply and listen to the beat of my heart in relationship with the rhythm and vibration of the earth below me.  I’m repeating this same experiment, as silly as it may sound, with anything I might be doing while here in Rishikesh.  The reason for that is if anything at all should become a part of your everyday world be it clothes, a stranger, a book, a statue, an opportunity, whatever it is, you must connect with it deeply.  All too often we invite things into our lives unnecessarily, and while impulse is an important part of my method, it can also lead you in wrong directions.  It’s more like engaging your sense with the senses of the Mother Earth, and your surroundings.  Never counting on outcome, and pulling or pushing—allowing your soul to be a receiver of the light that pulls it.  Our souls being pulled into the light is the endless dance of lifelight in the form of knowledge, music, meditation.  Our souls are being pulled out of darkness and into light, like a supernova, enveloping all darkness around, and leaving space open for unpredictable experiences.

View from my the balcony of the yoga ashram I lived in while in Rishikesh

View from my the balcony of the yoga ashram I lived in while in Rishikesh

And now after a deep breath and landing back on the ground, I was thinking on my search of very specific items.  Most importantly I was on my search for the nose stud.  A piece of jewelry only meant for one, special in all ways of love, forever and undying, love of a new life.   About six months ago I knew deeply within the soul of my heart what I wanted to do and how I wanted to do it…! 

There is a South Indian past time about a Lord Siva Temple in Andra Pradesh.  In a strange way this story is what inspired me to find the nose stud as the perfect gift.  There was a woman very devoted to Lord Siva.  Her pure heart would sing and perform puja to the Siva Linga every day.  She was unaware that Lord Siva could hear her prayers and was deeply moved by her pure devoted heart.  (I have to leave a lot out of the story here.)  Lord Siva manifests a brilliantly beautiful nose stud.  This auspicious piece of jewelry would be fit for the Deities to wear in the temples.  The devoted girl had a very jealous sister in law.  Her sister in law devised a plan to steal the sparkling nose stud.  She convinces her husband to steal it in the night.  He was successful, and when the sister in law placed the Divine Nose Stud in her nose, she immediately turns to skeleton.  The point of the story is that the devoted girl was so pure and divine in her love for God that her purity was far too strong for any negativity and would turn it to dust with the bat of an eyelash. 

                The meaning and purpose in find this nose stud for me is entirely different, yet I feel so passionately about the sacred energy in my love, and I wish to pass that love into the nose stud and gift it away to be received with all equal parts.  The story however does provide a certain glow around me finding it, and the rest of the story that develops from there.

                For now let’s return to the intense story of my first bath in the Sacred Holy Mother River, Sri Mata Gangaji.  

               

Sivji statue at the mouth of Mother Ganges, iSivji statue at the mouth of Mother Ganges, in Rishikeshn Rishikesh

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