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Svasti: A Journey From Assault To Wholeness

~ Recovery from PTSD & depression + yoga, silliness & poetry…

Svasti: A Journey From Assault To Wholeness

Tag Archives: Sadhakas

Why I have a Guru – part 4

19 Tuesday May 2009

Posted by Svasti in Spirituality, Yoga

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

Astronomy vs Astrology, Chile, Essence Nature, Guru, Love, Meditation, Norse mythology, Overseas travel, Porridge, Runes, Sadhakas, Scotland, Snubbing your Guru, Summer gathering, Tantra, UK

This series of posts has once again, sat idly by for a few months now! For the full story, I recommend that you read part 1, part 2, and part 3 first… ‘course, if you don’t want to, then just read this one…

I didn’t see my Guru for two years, and it’s not that he wasn’t in town or I that didn’t know about it.

He was, and I did… A (my ex, and one of his kung fu and rune students) took great delight in telling him – she doesn’t want to see you – which he told me about after the fact.

A’s actions didn’t make me happy exactly. But I’d been a little miffed at how hard it’d been to contact my Guru when I thought something kinda serious was happening (in retrospect, all I can say is… it wasn’t that serious). And that when he did get in touch, his letter didn’t really help me. So, I consciously avoided spending time with my future-Guru.

Then, in late 2000 I planned something of a whirlwind trip – the UK, Scotland and Chile. The runic tradition I studied (as mentioned in part 2) was based in the UK, and was having a summer gathering of sorts, somewhere mid-north east of London.

Scotland was for spending time with friends and extended family, and Chile was to hang out with a friend who’d moved there to be with her astronomist husband (note: never ask an astronomist their star sign!).

Little did I know my Guru would be attending the same gathering. He was there to see his runic teacher – another pretty amazing person – actually descended from Norse nobility; the family tradition of this man (rune breathing, weapons-based martial arts, healing, mythology, trance work etc) was what we’d all been learning. He’d originally taught my Guru and three other people his family’s oral tradition, and then asked those four to spread the teachings.

It was via this rather circuitous path, I’d met my Guru. And this gathering was to pay our respects, learn from the master himself, and train with others who studied the same thing.

Thousands of miles from home, somehow my Guru and I both ended up in the same place at the same time. Camping in a field opposite a very old church and eating stodgy English porridge for breakfast.

We re-connected immediately, as if the last two years never happened. He asked why I’d stayed away, and although we talked about it, those reasons no longer seemed to matter – our connection was unblemished.

That week, luxuriating (NOT!) in the damp English Spring weather, we bonded again practicing martial arts, and discussing Norse philosophy.

At the end of the gathering, I found myself on a train back to London with my Guru and two Scandinavian guys, with an offer to share a couple of days and a room with my Guru before the next part of my journey.

It’s a time I remember with much affection. All teachers have their ‘teacher’ mode, and then there’s off-duty time. This is what we shared, and I delighted in his goofy silliness and incredible curiosity.

We did martial arts training in Hyde Park, tracked down a funny little shop that sold hand-carved walking sticks, did laundry, watched movies, listened to music in a Virgin megastore, went into expensive hotel lobbies to find out the cost of their over-priced rooms, ate out and of course… just talked.

We discussed Tantra, Hindu philosophy and our future student/teacher relationship. He did his practice at night on the edge of his bed, while I slowly faded into dream-ridden slumber, the kind that means I get sonambulently talkative. Awake or asleep, there was no mistaking my fear.

Yet he answered all my dumbass questions, and was outrageously indulgent of my desire to discuss every inane detail of my relationship breakdowns. I spilled my guts about things I never tell anyone! He listened, didn’t judge and slowly kept bringing my awareness back to one or two small practices he’d already got me working on.

Here was a clearly remarkable man. Definitely, not like any person I’d ever met. And for some reason, our paths crossed not once, but twice. He offered mysteriously enticing knowledge, the details of which we only lightly touched on, and for good reason (it’s not easy for the untrained western mind to grasp the multi-layered nuances of yogic philosophy)…

More, he never really seemed to look at my my external physicality. It was as though he saw something behind material form (I’ve noticed him do this many times since then).

But I was scared and uncertain, which of course I expressed. He said there was no hurry, and I shouldn’t take initiation unless it was what I wanted. In the mean time, there were things I could do to explore this new knowledge.

He gave me book titles to find and read, preparatory exercises to do (with a much fuller explanation this time), people back in Sydney to get in touch with, and there would be a retreat the following year in Canberra he wanted me to attend – so I’d see him again within a few months.

After two full days of being roommates, we parted company. I, to South London on an errand for my mother before I flew to Scotland. He, to Canada – he’d invited me to join him but regrettably I already had other plans.

Yet I was over the moon, joyous to have shared private time with him like that.

Years later, I remember my Guru speaking of the moment where sadhakas are suddenly faced with a reflection of their Essence Nature looking at them from the eyes of another. Immediate knowledge descends, that the person attached to those eyes can help you eventually recognise this within yourself – no longer just a reflection.

Although it would be another four years before I took formal initiation, I count our shared time in London as my first concious moment of recognition. But definitely not the last, or the most intense.

To be continued…

~Svasti

Losing, letting go and surrender

02 Thursday Oct 2008

Posted by Svasti in Learnings, Spirituality

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Anger, Awareness, Emotions, Enlightenment, Lost things, Meditation, Road rage, Sadhakas, Spirituality, Surrender

The yogic spiritual path is really no different in a lot of ways to those on any other path. Stuff still happens, life goes on. Its the orientation to what happens and how you meet those things that is the difference.

People are prone to saying: “Oh, but you meditate. You should be so calm, never angry”. Well get this people – that state of calm that everyone imagines all people who meditate should have… isn’t that simple! That “everything’s zen” persona many people like to portray is usually bogus. Unless its not, in rare cases.

When I first jumped on this path some time ago now, I had this idea that having that floaty, happy calm feeling was the goal. That if I can induce that state (easy when around some of the great masters), then I was on the way. 😉

But guess what? This state, this sattvic (balanced) way of being can only be stablised 24/7 after a great deal of journeying – in some cases a life time. But always at least a good 10-20 years worth of practice for most people.

In the mean time, those moments where we experience that state (or something we imagine is that state) are precious and inspire us onwards. But then life gets in the way and we’re back at square 1!!

Not to mention, that sadhakas (spiritual practitioners) can and do undergo depression, sadness, anger and every other human emotion – in the process of purifying their karmas. However, the practices learned are meant to be applied to these states so that each time you do find yourself at square 1, its really not quite the same place. Instead of simply being reactive, there’s a process in place.

Remember this – its the birthright of every human being to eventually achieve enlightenment, even if its not in this lifetime.

And now to discuss “losing, letting go and surrender”. Yes I seem to lose a lot of stuff. My lunch – going from the bakery to my car. $15 in change whilst at a cafe. A button off a new top, a day after I thought I’d lost a button but really hadn’t. A prize of 4 movie tickets that I was awarded at my last job (whilst still in the building), between where the party was held and walking back to my desk. All crazy stuff right?

Over the years I’ve lost quite a few things I’ve had attachment to – great relationships, friends, pieces I jewelery I adored. And I have driven myself nuts fretting over those losses.

Then there’s my recent loss of pretty much everything that represented the “form” of my life. Those material things we all identify with. Kinda different to losing ‘stuff’ but not completely.

Right now as always, my spiritual path seems to be addressing this. Sometimes we just have to learn to relax and let go – surrender. Actually, its a little bit more like “struggle, struggle… surrender”.

OK, so I lost stuff I thought was important, I cared about or just bought/received. Each time I lose stuff now I’m noting my carelessness and how this could have been different if I’d had more considered awareness. And then I let go.

I still wish I hadn’t lost the stuff. But I’m saving myself from going crazy. And in three cases the ‘lost’ stuff I mentioned did eventually turned up. Like my lunch (down a space in my car), my button (inside the front door of my house – how lucky is that?) and my movie ticket prize (honest co-workers). But instead of spending the day thinking about what I’ve lost and draining my energy that way, I’ve thought about the pattern of what has happened. And that if stuff is meant to turn up, it will.

What can I say? It makes my day less stressful. And it makes me more aware of the little actions I take or don’t take.

Then there’s the common experience of struggling with traffic. We all do it. Get impatient, swear, shout, give dirty looks to someone we think is an idiot and shouldn’t be allowed on the road. Hmmm.

I started to notice the more I struggled with traffic, the more I was annoyed or tried to get around someone, the more strung out I was. Now I’m talking a pattern of days, weeks, months. I noticed that whenever I didn’t hold a vested interest in how fast the traffic was moving, things flowed better. Moment-to-moment stress about traffic is counter-productive and takes you away from what is – here I am in a car in traffic. OK. So its still something I have to work at but such a relief when I do just… relax…

Awareness, after all, is not just about meditation. Its about every darn thing in this world.

~Svasti

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