back to India...
I never EVER thought in my life I would go to India, despite a childhood fascination with Kipling's Rikki Tikki Tavi.... India was not a place I had any desire, attraction, or intention to visit. nope, not me.
(so of course the exquisite divine irony is: I wound up living there for pretty much five straight years.)
that being said, it's been a year, now, since I've been 'home' in my soul home, Mother India, and the idea of going back is a beautiful nostalgia already -- the divine fragrance is in my nostrils already, the scent of jasmine and rose flowers redolent in my mind.
I can already taste the divine nectar that is always flowing on that ground, in Penukonda, and around my teacher, Sri Kaleshwara.
and more -- the greatness, the spiritual power, the astounding vibration that IS India -- I can feel it already. in my heart, under my feet, in my inner Self. there's a steady flame of excitement, burning just behind my eyes. at times, I'm certain the whole world can see it.
a few days ago, someone shared with me "My India," the incomparable poem written about and from and from within India's great spiritual tradition by one of the greatest souls who ever walked this planet, Paramahansa Yogananda. (for those of you new to Yogananda, check through the archives of this blog and you'll find material aplenty on this maha-atma.)
I'd read the poem years ago but not recently. as a younger person, and a far less spiritually mature one, I enjoyed the poem but really had no idea what it was addressing, or how deep it really goes. I was touched but not overly impressed that Yogananda had been reciting this exact poem when he left his body in the early 1950s, in Los Angeles.
a few nights ago, someone handed it to me and I read it aloud to a few folks -- and by the end of this call to spiritual arms, I was in tears.
NOTHING, absolutely nothing, expresses the experience of Spiritual India better than this poem, in the words of a true spiritual master who had tasted all the flavors of the world's countries and continents, nations, and human beings.
when people ask me, "why do you spend so much time in India?" from now on, a copy of this poem will be my standard response.