The early part of yesterday was a typical last-day-of-work-day-before-Christmas break....lots of scurrying around trying to finish up nagging little things that I don't want to carry over into The New Year. Isn't is ominous and such a task to consider all that we know we must leave behind, that which we know in our hearts belongs to the past? I don't know about you, but I always feel a bit overwhelmed by the task, even just with temporal things, never mind the big metaphysical things like past hurts and dealing with losses. And then there's the Grand List of what I want to implement and accomplish and experience in the year just on the horizon. Another big deal.

However, yesterday afternoon and evening were so different from my norm. I went with a lovely friend to a retirement home to give a little first time talk on the importance of teeth (me) and good nutrition (her).  My friend did a  beautiful job talking not just about what to eat, but about how it should be eaten. And an important part of this 'how' is eating in community. She mentioned, in closing, a few pieces of general advice....one of which was 'to love hard'. One of the little ladies who heretofore appeared not too interested in much and maybe a little cranky, suddenly piped up with a question for my friend: "How do you love hard?". Wow. My friend asked: "Do you have people you love? Yes, she said. Do they know you love them? Do you tell them? Do you spend time with them? Do you communicate often with them?". Yes, she said, to all of these. My friend then concluded that she thought the little lady was doing it.....loving hard. 

I've been thinking about this all day today. I asked myself: how hard am I loving? Do the people in my life know it, and not only because I say it by rote, but because I show it and vibrate it? Do I love even when its difficult for me because I feel misunderstood, or unfairly criticized or I don't understand someone's actions or words. I've come to the conclusion that loving hard is sometimes itself very hard! But also that its the only thing that makes this human existence truly worthwhile. And I resolve to do better and better at it. We absolutely cannot, in my opinion, purport to love God if we do not learn to truly love each other, especially when it is the most difficult thing in the world to do.

We are about to celebrate the birth of the Maestro of Love. He who was born in part, to give the world a magnificent example of how to love in the midst of the most heinous of circumstances. He was left alone, betrayed by those he called 'friend and brother', unfairly accused and debased. Yet his last words were "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do". I'd say He knew how to love hard!

After leaving the retirement home, we went to have a chat over tea in an adorable little coffee shop. (Why are places that sell coffee AND tea mostly only ever called "coffee shops"?) It was wonderful to reconnect and trade stories of recent adventures had. The entire time, I was so delighted to really See this soul sitting across from me- it was a blessing. I hope I never stop really seeing her, or anyone I love- it'll make me miss all that magic that never stops tumbling over in every one of God's creations.

Speaking of magic, an adorable little boy came in with his mama, just as we were getting ready to leave. Our eyes met and I smiled and he smiled back. What is it about a little kid smiling at you that makes you feel like a million dollars? And that's not all!  When we walked past where he was sitting, on the way out the door, I leaned over and said goodbye to him. He waved this teeny tiny hand at me- now I felt like TWO million dollars. And that's not all! He then, unprompted and of his own volition, put the teeny tiny hand to his mouth and blew me a kiss. Officially the very youngest guy to ever hit on me. Go ahead, be jealous. 

We walked outside and were treated to a beauteous winter sky- sort of a light midnight blue with a perfect silver crescent moon in a cloudless expanse. More magic.

This story ends with me driving home and the license plate of the car right in front of me read "1Journey". I promise I didn't make this up.

I wish you all the most joyous of Christmas celebrations. May we all claim the peace and the love and the bliss that are our birthright. May we See the Magic that is sprinkled everywhere if only we take the time to Look. May we hold hands and 1Journey together. May we always, always, always choose to Love Hard. 
​                                                                                                      - Siri Amrita Kaur

You might not know this about me, but I love fireworks and routinely embarrass my po' Hubs with public displays of fireworks shenanigans: squeals, jumps up and down and involuntary giggles. Yes, very unadult-like behaviours. But I honestly can't help myself. There is something so glorious and majestic about fireworks. I love their exuberance. I love their explosions of colour and patterns. I love how they utterly illuminate the darkest night. I love how they "die" spending their short "life" making beautiful light. 

So last evening, Hubs brought in some white sheets I'd forgotten on the line until it was night-night and I was laying on my bed. Lights went out and almost immediately thereafter, my eyes, heavy with sleep, saw a sudden flash. It appeared a firefly had come in with the laundry. And we were gifted with a private laser show by which, I discovered, I was as delighted as by fireworks. For many of the same reasons I mentioned, despite the fact that there was only a singular colour: phosphorescent greenish-yellow. Which unfortunately, sounds a lot like puke or bile, but so isn't!

He or she flitted around in the dark, putting on a heck of a mating display, with no mate in sight. Unless of course, John or I have a heretofore unknown sexy firefly vibe :-). I guess it finally figured out it best conserve its strength to navigate this new indoor wilderness and it stopped glowing after about five or so minutes. We tried to find it to release it back outside, but without its lantern on, we could not. I was so sleepy that I gave up, saying a prayer that it would somehow survive the night.

Early this morning, I spotted it on the screen over the open window. Poor thing, tortured for who knows how many hours, so close to freedom, yet so far. Smelling the wind, seeing the non-incarcerated fireflies flitting about and being taunted by their passionate dancing and wanton copulating! 

I wondered if it had an existential crisis, asking questions like: What's my life worth if I don't fulfill my destiny to multiply?Will I ever fly free again? Have I lost my Light? Will I ever know true love? What kind of God would let this happen to me, when I've tried my best to be a good firefly?

Or was it occupied with more mundane thoughts like: I'm so hungry! Am I just gonna freaking starve to death? I wonder how much phosphor I've got left in the tank? How should I best ration it? Will I ever have sex again? I really have to pee...should I just go here, in front of God and everybody? 

The long and short of this story is that it was freed (I don't know if it ever gave in and peed, YUCK!) and took off like the lightening after which it is nicknamed. As Hubs was opening the screen, I noticed how very plain looking it was in the daylight. Nothing at all special, certainly not attractive by normal standards. A kind of dour, longish dusky-black cockroachy (again, yuck!) body with a dull reddish-orange head and a wing-fissure stripe along its back.  

But oh man! Come dusk, fall night, when you can't see its form, only its Light....there is nothing more beautiful. Like the full moon, these never fail to make my breath catch.

I think there were profound teachings here. Simpler ones like not judging a book by its cover and looking before you leap, so you don't land up in an inadvertent pickle (coming indoors on a sheet!). More complex ones, like freedom being requisite to shining brightly and fulfilling one's destiny; like abandoning oneself to a universal dance and that joyous movement then has myriad ripple effects and the world is never the same again. 

I ended up asking myself: what does it mean to be free? What does it look like when the illusory veils are removed and the soul is allowed to simply shine? Is there anything more lovely than something arising out of life bursting out of itself? Is this bursting forth, in those rare relationships where there is little 'mind-drag', where we are blessed simply to witness the Pure Light in each another, what we humans experience as "Love"?

And a few last compelling thoughts:  Was this firefly born and destined to end up in my bedroom last night, and stay 'til morning, so I could ponder these things? Was it able to perceive my Light, just as I perceived its Light? Thanks for reading and Happy Almost Summer Solstice, when light and dark are in perfect balance. I bow to my Shadow and to my Illumination. I Dance my version of the Dance of the Firefly, I witness yours and am in awe of both: for they are nothing short of Divine.

The day of Resurrection has arrived, ironically, born out of some of the worst acts of mankind. Once again, the darkness unknowingly served the Light. I love Peter's words in this line of scripture, for their inclusiveness. In this one simple but powerful statement, he encapsulated a potent message of the ministry of Christ, then and now, in a totally non-sectarian way, applicable to all.

Jesus' willing sacrifice showed us how to escape a life of EMPTINESS. 

The tomb, which held Christ's body yesterday, is empty of it today. He is Risen. In union with God (ha! a "yogi", showing us how to levitate)....he shows us how to elevate above pettiness, possessiveness, insecurity, slander, gossip, envy, betrayal, competition, hatred, anger, hypocrisy, materialism, emotional blackmail, judgment, the desire to be right, the madness of revenge and retaliation, violence and bullying. 

The fearful human psyche holds all of these low vibration traits, which we inherited from our ancestors, who became obsessed with survival, and then with greed, and simply forgot that they were Spirit templed in flesh for a time. We buy in to the insanity hook, line and sinker (wheh-heh-hellll- a fishing image was apropos, for after all Jesus was the "fisher of men" :-) ) until we awaken. The small, egoic self we are protecting, hypnotized by the illusion of the material, is actually killing us, slowly and painfully. We go through mechanical motions of life, joyless, dry and vindictive...and there is nothing more wasteful or sad. If there is such a thing as "sin" then I believe this must be the greatest of them.

It is only when we have suffered enough and are sick and tired of it that we will muster the courage to throw off the shroud and to roll away the stone. Then we too may Arise and prefer the vulnerability of life to the slow decay of death-while-breathing. We too may leave behind all that is of the Shadow, accepting the painful lessons of the Cruxifiction, and enter fully and consciously into the Light. We will know the Bliss of the Resurrection only by allowing the Fire of Love to burn untamed in the now-empty tomb of the heart. 

Happy Uprising to you all, with all of my love, holding your hand as we Journey Home
                                                                                                                                                                             - Siri Amrita Kaur                                                                   

Today is Holy Saturday and Jesus is entombed. My thoughts today are on His mother, on this day when she has borne this seventh sword piercing her heart and now fully 'earned' the title Our Lady of Sorrows- an accolade I am certain her human heart would rather have avoided if not for her incredible obedience to the Will of God.

There is a beautiful account of Mary standing in a doorway as Jesus was processed through the streets on the way to Calvary. She looks upon the body of her son: He has been beaten, He has been scourged, His head is pierced by a crown of thorns, His blood is flowing and He is so weak, yet forced to carry his patibulum, bowed beneath its punishing weight. As their eyes meet, feeling the intensity of His mother's pain at the sight of Him, Jesus falls to the ground for the second time. No words are spoken but the Mother's heart breaks wide open yet again, pierced by this Fourth Sorrow. Oblivious to the personal danger to which this exposed her, she ran to her son, threw herself on her knees at His side and embraced Him. I believe she did this instinctively, to bring HIM comfort.  And I believe she was able, by this, from deep within her own pain, to give her son the courage to get up and finish the Work before Him, in the way in which it had to come to pass.

These, from my perspective, are Mary's everlasting and most profound teachings to all of humanity (actually, regardless of our religious persuasions, or if we haven't any at all): how to obey Divine Will in a state of Perfect Grace; how to stand steady in the face of ridicule, opposition, hatred, at the foot of the Cross (symbolic of whatever our personal human suffering), out of Perfect Courage and her ultimate lesson, the greatest of all- how to do this from a place of Perfect Love. 

Mary, Divine Mother of Sorrows, bless us who sorrow in any and all ways. Teach us how to live with Open Hearts despite the pain and vulnerabilty that often goes hand in hand with this. Teach us how enter and dwell within a Space of Grace. And thank you for the Lesson of your life. 

Reflecting this morning on these penultimate words of Jesus on the cross and wondering how He uttered them. Was it with resignation, as He knew His physical death was immiment? Was it with pride, that he had shown no cowardice? Was it with sorrow, for all from whom He was parting...his mother and his friends? Was it with resentment, for the way in which he had been betrayed by Judas, a man he called brother and disciple? Was he angry at having been falsely accused and murdered for fictitional crimes?

I think that perhaps earlier in the cruxifixion process, He might have had all of these feelings, for after all, He was human, the Word made flesh. We are told that at about the ninth hour of His ordeal, likely at the pinnacle of physical pain and mental anguish, Christ cried out "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?". In this, and by those words, He gave us, forever, the gift of perceiving His humanity, whereby we can can embrace ours. We see this avtaar, this enlightened Being that was Jesus, descending into a time of despair, struggle and darkness and feeling cast off by God the Father....and it resonates with us so deeply. We who so often doubt, we who so often fear, we who so often feel betrayed and alone.

But I believe that by the time he uttered the words: "It is finished", he had processed through his humanity and reconnected with his Divinity. So it was said with acceptance and an incredible amount of Love. Love for God, Love for Self and Love for all others. He had already forgiven the betrayals and all of the ugliness which represented the worst of people acting out of their smallness. He was invested with a a great peace, I think, for He had done what He was sent to do; he had obeyed Divine Will. And He proved that all of the concerted efforts of the dark are ulimately ineffective in extinguishing The Light. They killed his body, but they could not kill his message: the Good News, whereby the Via Dolorosa was transformed to the Via Delamor.

As the time of testing drew to its end the scriptures say He uttered: "Father, into Your Hands I commend my spirit"....ex-pire, His breath left. And the sense I have is of triumph (without pride), merger with God and overwhelming peace for a destiny fulfilled.

He has shown us how to go Home...The Way, The Truth and The Life. Now is the time of Resurrection. Death, and all that is of death, has no power over us. Life is meant to be lived in truth, walking the path of the Spirit. We were created out of Love and are meant to Love, such that there is none held in reserve by the time we draw that last breath. Then Let There Be Peace, within and without.  

Happy Easter, with all my love....
Siri Amrita

Last Friday evening,  I taught the first in a 4 week Friday Kundalini Yoga class series.  There were several new and very beautiful ladies, in a group of other very beautiful ladies not new to the practice (along with my Hubs, valiantly representing the male of the species).  One of these was actually a "Lady-In-Progress", a little girl named Halla who came with her mama to class.  She was sitting next to her mom, in the very back left corner of the room.   I want you to remember I said that.  

I noticed many things about Halla: she was extremely well behaved; she had an aura of 'quiet' around her; she had the most lovely skin and the prettiest, shy smile. But her eyes....wow, her eyes were absolutely entrancing.  You might be thinking I am about to say that they were a pair of those coloured eyes (which her mom has and I also love!)...but she has eyes that reminded me of obsidian. Dark, intense, but somehow full of sparkling light.  The Light of Consciousness.  The Light of Innocence.  I was really happy that she was in that room with us...I had the feeling that her presence was a gift to the group vibration, representing and holding for us the Purity of the Divine Feminine.

At the end of class, she came up to me and showed me the picture above.  "It is you", she said.  I looked down and indeed, it was, except that she somehow captured the essence of the perfect stillness for which I long and the reason why I practice Kundalini Yoga (as taught by Yogi Bhajan).  She'd managed to depict my ongoing goal as a yogi and a soul.  

The other phenomenal thing about this picture is that is it filled with the most incredible detail.  She noticed and drew every object I wear at my wrists, some of which are unusual.  She drew my turban pin, something quite new, that I love and which holds special memories of a recent trip to Nepal.  She drew my moon pendant which also holds deep symbolism for me.  There are details of the wall and the various lights in the room around/behind me,  the hint of the yoga mats of  the ladies in front.  All spoke of an intense Observer, with an amazing talent for seeing everything but also knowing how to focus on what was most important in the scene.  Obvious things that "set the stage" and the very subtle things that told a story.   And her mom says she did that entire drawing in about fifteen minutes!  And remember I said she was sittting at the back of the room, not right up near to me where it was easy to see the finer details.

How much there is to learn from this about being in the present moment and Looking Intentionally with Eyes That See.  We all knew how to do this instinctively as children to some degree, but we lose touch with the ability as we become teenagers and even more so as adults.  Usually, around the time of puberty, the small ego starts to become self-obsessed.  Then on top of that, 'responsible adulthood' with all its challenges and the busyness of life in general, puts up roadblocks to our expanded Vision.  We have to relearn the skill of paying attention to Now: in this, Halla was our teacher last Friday.  And today, thinking of the March of Women yesterday, and of her, rekindles in me, hope for the future.

I asked her the meaning of her name and she told me what she thought it was, but that I really should check with her mom :-).  I did. Turns out she was right and it means "Unexpected Blessing" in Swahili.  I would say that this child has been perfectly named.  It also reminds me of "Hallelujah", which is entirely apropros. 

I hope she comes back to class every week!  And I am told she intends to colour this picture and mom is to send me that version too, which I will then share here for you to see.  For now, I cherish the original and am grateful for the unexpected blessing of it and her.  

Today, the Winter Solstice in our hemisphere marks the shortest “day” of the year. For me, it will mark a rite of passage of sorts: an emerging from a period in the tomb. Or, on my more optimistic days, what I have thought of as yet another chrysallis phase.
 
This last quarter of 2016, in particular, has been intense on many levels. I have been stretched, to what I felt was my limit and sometimes, beyond my limit. I have encountered my own inherent darkness and of course, my instinct to run from it. I have done so before: I know how to run reeeee-ally well.
 
This time, I decided to face my darkness, to stand it down, with no crutches. I will not lie: it has been difficult. I have been brought to my knees, I have railed (not rallied!), I have cried, I have felt sorry for myself, I have been pissed off…sometimes all of these in the same hour! From time to time, I fantasized about my personal favourite ways of anaesthetizing psychic discomfort (like eating obscene amounts of chocolate and hiding for long periods under the covers). I even daydreamed of using some escape tactics I’ve never before tried :-). 
 
One of the things I have been catapulted into, in this Dark Night, has been a deep examination of relationships important to me, precipitated by a recent loss of one. That is the subject of this post.
 
​I have been called to re-assess what “love” means to me and have had to ask myself what are the things I would personally do to serve it. I have become more educated, of late, as to what often masquerades as love, but in truth…never was, never will be. I will tell you my thoughts and my hopes and my dreams about all this.
 
I believe that the Divine, in Its incredible wisdom, gifts us mere mortals the possibility of understanding... just a tiny bit... the All-Encompassing, Unconditional love It has for each soul, when we are called into meaningful relationship on a human level with another being.
 
The initial euphoria and the sense of connection and blossoming (the feeling of being in love with love) is needed to get us to set our feet on the Path of Love. Frankly, this path is actually often more of a rocky obstacle course of the most heart-opening and gut-wrenching kind. Were it not, at first, appealing and “pretty” in those ways which best sync with us, we just wouldn’t be inclined to go there!
 
Given enough time and enough investment of self-in-relationship, the trail narrows and the way becomes more difficult. Not so much euphoria now. Not quite so pretty. We encounter rubs, at the very least….and the dark side of the other person-who-is-us, at the worst. Eventually, we arrive at a crossroads and we must choose. The time taken to arrive here varies widely, but in my experience, it always does and when we get there, the question inevitably arises: how much are you willing to risk to continue? (Naturally, I am not talking about allowing physical abuse or deviant behaviour or betrayal of vows-these are not found on the Path of Love).
 
What usually happens at this juncture is we become so afraid, or we think we are being used, or we decide we are bored, or we get so wrapped up with being right, or so angry about real (or imagined) trespass, we decide to run away from what is essentially an invitation to more intense interpersonal encounter "in drag". We return alone to the trail-head: drained, sad, disappointed, heartsick, aware of a hole in our chest and knowing that we are still longing to belong. Time passes, again less or more, and we seek, or it seeks us, yet another opportunity in the form of human relationship and the cycle begins anew.
 
Once in a magical while, and maybe this is purely based on karma….or maybe the stars and planets all align, or maybe a heavenly host of angels goes to bat for us….and we travel the all-too-familiar earlier parts of the trail with someone new, except this trip out, it is Someone who matters so very much that none of the usual triggers actually fire the loaded gun of destruction which we pack for “safety” every time.
 
We stay the course as it becomes unknown to us, we conquer our impulse to run and somehow overcome the obstacles impeding progress. The ground underfoot is treacherous; we are aware of insecurity and of being so tired sometimes and we wonder if we will be lost forever. But instead of bolting back alone to known and comfortable zones, almost in desperation, we catch hold of  the hand of the other-person-is-me and decide, choose, to keep going forward.
 
We decide that it is worth the risk to see what may be revealed as we journey, because in our heart of hearts, our own Supreme Wisdom Knows that these revelations will be just as much about us as about the other. With this soul-choice made intentionally, suddenly the trail widens again, the sun rises after a long dark night and we glimpse blue skies.

We have been so engaged in the effort this part of the trail required, we did not notice, and so are surprised to find, we have ascended and only now can we see clearly that what was left behind was mostly our fear. We look ahead and wow….from up here, the view is spectacular. It takes our breath away and we understand we were born to embrace this experience, to find the courage at last to make this climb.
 
In joy, we turn and look at the one we love, our hands still joined, and at last, we know we love truly because we have been tested and confirmed. We look again more closely and behold!....what we see is the Face of the Divine looking back at us, through the eyes of our beloved. We See.
 
We see that for which we longed, the belonging we have craved for as long as we can recall, was not for that other person per se, but for the Divine Lover within them.
 
We understand as much as we possibly can whilst our souls are still confined in these bodies made of stardust and elements, how the Divine Sees us and Loves us.
 
Love-in-relationship is about so much more than the ego would have us believe. Naturally, it does not always “feel good” but who was ever promised that evolution would be painless?

Love-in-relationship is a gateway, a yoga, a conduit between the world of form and the world of spirit. To know and live true commitment is The Way of The Seeker and to experience true and lasting human communion is to experience, in flesh and bone, none other than the Divine.
 
So on this day of long darkness, at the tail end (I pray) of a long personal night, I offer my gratitude for those in my life who have walked, and are still walking, The Path of Love with me. My Bearers of Light. My gifts from God. 
 
I See the One I Love in you Forever. I thank you for your faith and your loyalty and your perseverance and your affirmation that I am worthy, even when I don’t feel like it, and particularly when I don’t act like it.
 
I thank you for remembering the Song with which I was born and singing it back to me when I have forgotten it. I thank you for reminding me of my purpose and my dreams when I am low and small. I thank you for carrying me when my legs won’t go any further. I vow to do the same for you.

I thank you for never letting go of my hand. I promise I won’t let go of yours.
 
I’ll end with a poem I wrote this morning, around this topic and by saying this: I hope in love. I believe in love’s potential to lift us higher than we ever could ascend in its absence. I pray to always retain the courage to open my heart to it.

​"Me, spinning 
On my axis here
You, on yours there
​Particles of Light in motion
As Life experienced Itself
In two singular ways
And that was Good
And there was some Delight
But then...by happenchance
(Or was it?)
We collided.
Surprised and a little scared
Our hands found each other
And suddenly our feet were
Lifted off the very ground!
We discovered that alone,
We could Dance...
And that was Good
And there was some Delight
But together, oh together…
We discovered we could Fly!
And that was Incomparable
And there was Purest Incandescent Joy."