
In my last writings, I shared an experience of words pouring forth onto my blank journal page, seeming to come from the great saint Ramana himself, that basically said, “You’re good enough; you’re pure enough; you don’t have to keep trying so hard.”
The next day I wrote this poem:
The Light That I Am
The beauty is opening up inside of me,
Shedding its luster
On everything.
Trees pulsate with life,
Dragonflies kiss the breeze
With their wings,
Then dart away
To the next rendezvous.
The light that I Am
Sits at the center,
Singing hymns of gratitude
For the grace
That has brought me
To this eternal moment,
Where peace and tranquility abide..

I went to bed early as per usual that night and woke up sometime in the early hours of the morning in an astonishing state: I was totally awash in a profound love, more deep, expansive and unconditional than anything I had ever experienced. The closest I had ever come was holding my beloved daughter when she was an infant. But this wasn’t a love FOR anything or anyone, or love FROM anyone, it was just love – unfettered, unattached, unbelievable! The mind was completely stilled – not a thought crossed my awareness -- and I was totally at peace. Even with my eyes closed, I could see/feel a radiance, a pulsating luminosity. It seemed the grace of Arunachala, of Ramana, of Devaji was being poured into me, and it was so pure. As my understanding has deepened, I have come to realize that this state is my true nature -- everybody’s true nature -- which for most of us is almost totally masked by our busy, active minds and our conditioned automatic response patterns.
I lay basking in this miraculous bliss for I don’t know how long – it could have been an hour, it could have been three, before it began to dissipate. I wrote some poems by flashlight, and then tried to get back to sleep, but that wasn’t happening, so I finally took an allergy pill. I drifted off, only to dream about all the mind’s schemes and strategies to get what it wants. It was very humbling. I tried not to beat up on myself too much, but it wasn’t pretty observing how the desire mechanisms work. And it felt like quite a fall to go from that truly amazing grace to all the conditioned behaviors that drive the personality.

I awoke at 7:56, which was the latest I had slept since arriving in India, with only four minutes to get to breakfast. I scurried and somehow managed to get dressed and out in time to get something to eat. That morning in satsang, I went up and sat in the chair with Devaji, saying little but feeling such enormous gratitude.
The following day the theme of not being able to connect with anyone was back. I watched jealousies and stories about others having more, getting more than me, play across the screen of my consciousness. I opened to it as fully as possible because it was so very persistent and because it was the work I had come to do. According to the non-dual teachings, these painful, contractive experiences recycle until we can see them for what they are: conditioned responses laid down in early childhood that create a protective shell around the true Self. The challenge is not to judge them and not to judge ourselves and try to push the feelings away, but to explore them with acceptance, curiosity and kindness. When they are held and seen through all the way, they dissolve, and we are set free.
It was also interesting how as every day went by, I became more and more comfortable with my surroundings. I had stopped putting on insect repellent -- quite a change from the anxious woman who was wearing mosquito netting over her head in her room at the beginning of the trip. That day I did a complete cleaning of my room and felt even more at home. I cleared off the small built-in shelf and created a little puja (altar) alongside my bed that included a photo of Ramana, the small statue of Ganesha (remover of obstacles), some found peacock feathers and mango leaves arrayed on a glittery pink pillowcase that I had bought. It offered an island of beauty and calm.
The love continued to flower the following day. “Everything has taken on a luster,” I wrote in my journal. “The sense of isolation and rejection has been replaced with a feeling of being at peace with everything. The environment no longer feels hostile and threatening, and I am flourishing in a very narrow universe. When there is silence, so much can be felt and known without words. I am physically feeling better than I have in years. The burning sensation I have been experiencing is at a minimum. I am eating everything and have a good appetite.”
I was still having some trouble sleeping but I found that I needed less of it. I was waking up most mornings before daybreak when the chanting started. Ironically, as time passed, when the early- morning chanting did start, I found I could actually doze off and get more sleep despite the cacophony, which on some occasions was piercing, sounding like shrieking accompanied by persistent thumping drumbeat
Open, Shut
Open, shut, open, shut.
A smile, a cross word.
The light flickers on and off.
The glance of another,
Friendly or hostile
Cannot slake the hunger
For what is real and lasting.
That One sits quietly,
Waiting for the true seeker
To stop being beguiled
By every comehither look.
A golden crescent moon
Smiles down from the
Velvet night sky
And welcomes the dawn.
Next: More on the Inner Journey