Jimi, Mom, is out of town for a week or two; I don't know exactly; she wants to come home the day after T-Day, because Veronica washes her hair on Saturday morning. "Mom, Sabrina can wash your hair, I can wash your hair, ANYONE can wash your hair." "Oh,". Too many names?
I am using this as my daily diary; and that's okay. I don't know why exactly, but it seems like the place to be. I said this before, but, I live in this wonderful purple room and I need to be connected to the world. I 've been- I moved home when I was 40. 40 was 19 years ago. Time does fly, go faster, just like my Nana told me, she died at 101. "the 70's were fantastic, the 80's were great, and the 90's stink", were some of her last words to me.
She wanted me to take her home, when I visited her in that assisted living facility in Oregon. But there was no home, no trailer left to take her home to, and I lived in Florida at that point. I would lay next to her, and talk into her one good ear and sing to her, and she would recite the Gettysburg Address to me; she'd been a school teacher. In the end, she slept mostly, except when they woke her to eat or shower/bathe. She swore like a sailor and spoke Russian, they told us; neither of which I had ever heard her do in her life.
Mom, my little mommy. I just have to remember she's still 11. Yes, we do become our parents parent in the end, but, this has been true with me and Jimi for way longer. and, I'm finally hip to it- thank you, Diana, my therapist. I'm in therapy- yes, I've done this before, but have never needed it as I do now, or wanted it as I do now; it's now, that I need to understand and get through this thing called 'Olga's life'.
This rage toward Mom. It's just too much. and I do meditate daily, religiously without a religion; through my Guru's Grace, which is God's grace, which flows freely through us all. Period. end of sermon.
I know when I haven't meditated deeply or longly enough; I start to notice the sound of the bells on her houseslippers hurt my ears.
When the noise of her practicing piano is noise and not practice, I need to go sit in my meditation corner and close my eyes, again, even for a few minutes. To come back, new. Come back, with patience, come back with humor, with even love sometimes. That is the Guru's grace.
I remember the day I heard this voice from within tell me something; I'd been sober a couple years, or a few, I dont' know. I had changed my diet, I was eating brown rice and miso soup; I was feeling this Presence which I did not know what It was. And then, as I crossed Columbis Avenue at 69th Street; my street; from within said "to feel and to see are the same". Knock me over within myself. I felt something, and now I am told, I didn't have to see IT actually, both were equal. I felt, ah, thank you, whomever YOU ARE.
and in the Spring of 1981 I did somehing I hadn't done since I was 18. I got on my knees and asked to be shown where You are, whatever You are. I had no attraction or faith in religious concepts. I had no joy toward the word God. But I was trying to meditate and I would sit for 15 seconds and feel I had sat for 30 hours. and this Voice that had spoken to me, kept pulling on my soul from all directions and I knew Something existed outside myself that was indeed very close to me.
6 months later I walked into the Siddha Yoga Ashram on 86th street and saw the photo of Baba Muktananda on the back wall of the basement lobby. I looked at his smile; and saw the most natural real smile I had ever seen. And for me, an actress who'd had her headshot retaken yearly, to see such a smile, relaly wowed me. But, I know it was more than a real smile. It was a genuine connection to God that I felt at that moment. and as I stood in that basement lobby I began to feel giddy, and I smiled and felt a joy. I felt totally at home. and I signed up for the next Meditation Intensive, which the girl behind the desk told me about.
The next weekend I spent two days with Swami Muktananda with Gurumayi as his Interpretor. I experienced something called Love. Divine Love within my being, I felt love for this human Baba who walked like an Emperor. I experienced my heart cracking open and I heard Baba speak about my most innermost quest "Know yourself". My secret wish for years; my only wish. He knew what I wanted to know and he seemed to be the one to answer my question.
He did.
Now it's 2008. I have his picture, that same picture on the front of his book Play of Consciousness, I play harmonium at our chanting and meditation satsangs and I get to look at Gurumayi's face daily, in the pictures throughout my life. Why do I look at her face often? Because she is One with God. she has crossed the ocean of worldliness and lives in Bliss and awakens this state in others. Because it's a good choice for my soul.
I always think I have nothing to say to myself and then, something happens. The bancha tea awakens me and I remember.
So, in therapy we are finding out what my life was - because I do not remember growing up or living with others and it's time to. and I feel safe enough to. And I know it's all okay today to know where I've been without judging harshly.
No comments:
Post a Comment