Happy Shivaratri!
Last night was Shivaratri. “… it is white night, it is not dark night. Shiva means white. Ratri means night. It is that night which is bright night, it is white night, it is not dark night, it is not black night. Shiva Ratri means white night, where there is drama, where there is light, it is briliant, all things are visible, there is no need of torch, light bulbs. And in other words it is Shivaratri, that night where you are graced with Shaktipata of Lord Shiva.”
(Swami Lakshmanjoo on 23rd of Feb. in 1988, in the first of a series of tape recordings of lectures given in Nepal, where he was meeting devotees who could not come to India.)
And there I was thinking that I would be in Jammu/Kashmir to celebrate this occasion with my Kashmiri friends plus attend the wedding of a dear friend, plus deliver the just finished publication of the Bhagavad Gita to the Indian devotees, but “man purposes, god disposes”, only made it to New York and back. Had a frantic day, running around in sunny and not too cold NY, trying to get my visa verified to no avail, but counted my blessings. I didn’t get lost in busy, chaotic NY, found a nice hotel with internet access, lucky to take my laptop was able to color print many pages of old visa copy, new visa applications and maps, got on and off all the right trains and subways, to the embassy in time, met lots of friendly and helpful people going out of their way to lead me to the ticked counters or the train. The airline put me on a flight already the next day and even my luggage made it all the way and back within the next couple of days, although damaged, still everything came back in the end. What I learned? That there are the most helpful people in the most busiest city of this world. That 10 (!) elevators full of people coming out of the World Trade Center train station and being amongst them is quite a humbling experience. They are still rebuilding the place but it sure feels spooky. Flying over the desert (and most of North America crossing from LA to NY looks like a desert perhaps only in winter) I was in awe of gods creation, how he painted with rivers, mountains and different colors of soil the most beautiful pictures. Then comes the patterns created by man, square fields and streets that go on for miles in a straight line, round plots of irrigated lands that look like bubble wrap, and on goes all the lights in the big cities by night. And how insignificant and small we are compared to all that.
Reminds me of a song (Ong Namoh, by Snatam Kaur) that has captured me, where she sings “…this is Your way” towards the end. So true!
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