Wild Calling

The more I immerse myself in Yoga, the more Yoga fills my life to overflowing.

And it is an immersion .. a diving into Ganga .. being caught in the current that is Brahmanda.   Sinking down and looking up.   Wholly engaged and steeped in the steepness.   Fully absorbed so that every particle of being is flowing involvement, is engrossed purification, is engulfed in the saturation of the ineffable.

But .. Ive wandered .. like the gentle stream across stone.

A few years back I wrote about the Six-Mile Radius and the importance of it in our daily life and sustainability.   I then heard this was called ‘bio-regionalism‘.   Then, I came upon the idea of having only 108 objects .. just 108 personal possessions.   I then found out about the 100 Things Challenge.

Its all in the Great Void .. so many floating ideas, ready to be plucked and participated in.

Unknown to us all where the road will turn.   Unknown to me that the course of a Six-Mile Radius would lead to downsizing, would lead to minimizing, would lead to considering being a full-time wandering Sadhu.   To being off-grid once again.

So here I am .. spring cleaning an entire life.   Again.   This being my third such purging .. purification.

What to keep and what to throw away is an amazing exploration into self.   Into who I am, into why I hold onto certain things (physical and mental), into the value of value .. of sentimentality .. of sadhaka (‘intelligence, knowledge, memory, enthusiasm, consciousness).

Thought fly far away, but woe to loose memory.

For me, memory is the true value of a thing, an object, a bauble that can be held in the hand.   What memory does this thing contain?   How important is that memory?   Where did that memory come from?   I mean, that memory has been there all along .. yet, it has not risen to the surface of conscious thought until just now .. this very moment .. holding this object.

Is that then the value of an object?   The many treasures that we surround ourselves with?    That it calls back memory from afar?

It would seem so.   Cleaning out a closet or a drawer reveals a memory .. complete with emotion.    Some objects bring tears, some joy, some neutrality, some indifference, some a question ..

A question.   So many different questions, so many layers being pulled back and revealed, so many conveniently set aside matters – conversations and deeds – neatly laid to rest, only to rise up and stir the depths of chitta’s well .. the well of memory.

Are the waters muddy?   Or are they clear?   From where I stand now .. how do I perceive myself then?   From where I sit – comfortably holding an object not held in some years – do I judge or condemn, do I muse on the value of countless interactions .. the why’s and wherefore’s, and wonder:  ‘What now?    What samskara (impression) remains?’

Every remembered thing is held high in the mind’s memory.   Within the depths of every remembered thing resides – for all time – every moment, whether recalled or not, whether neatly forgotten or not, whether chokingly painful or not, whether joyously embraced or not .. IT is still there.

Not in the past, in some forgotten realm, brushed aside like a page in a history book, but still there.   Sharp as any sword it is .. ready to re-heave you anew or cut through the dross that has been holding you back.

All will be revealed ..

This is why Mahakali has three gunas, for one cannot separate the past from the self, no more than one can cancel the future.   Nonetheless .. its still dead weight, unless its picked up and re-evaluated.   Its value determined, its weight on current affairs measured.   Only then can it either be tossed aside as having no more impact, or carefully set aside to be brought out again at some unknown time in the future.

So I sit with a box on one side, a garbage bag on the other, and a pile of memory before me.   More goes into the garbage .. for it is but an object. Its real worth resides within.


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