She

She


One of her names is All. With capital “A”. She has a sonorous body. All sounds are Her body. She is all the notes of music. In a single twang of Her musical instrument, there is an entire symphony. May you hear the symphony in a twang.

Light I Her body. Sound is Her body. Words are Her limbs. When she becomes the day, she illuminates. When she becomes the night, she is the place of repose and rest. Her nights are not of darkness. When she becomes the night in us, all senses come to rest.

In that restfulness, she lights our interior chamber. All the glories then come to dwell within us. She has filled everything with Her magnanimity. The immortal one, she spreads and scatters Herself in places high and in places low and wherever there is a treat of darkness, she stands and impedes the treat. She herself made for Herself a sister – the dawn.

 

The robes she wears at dawn are different from the ones she wears in twilight. The very colors of the universe are Her robes; not the garments that are colored therewith.

When she comes and is seen coming from the distance, upon the very glimpse of Her all darkness Vanishes.

Oh, Mother, give us rest. As birds at the evenfall find a tree for a night’s repose, may we so find you, Mother, for the rest through this night into which we have fallen.

Ah, the villages are resting. Those who walk with feet are resting. Those who fly with wings are resting. Those who hunt as hawks are resting. Those who seek are resting. Those who give are resting.

For, you have removed from us, all threat to our peace; you have made our minds restful. Ever, ever, ever, do remain so beautiful to us, Mother. I thought the nights were dark, but when you, the Night, became the womb for me, I knew, Mother, you to be light.

As someone magnanimously charitable may pay off someone else’s Debts, so Mother, pay off my debts. And be a milk cow who gives in abundance, oh, Night, oh, Mother, grant me conquest. The territory I conquer – may that territory be nothing but the hymns that are sung in praise of you. May I know those hymns.1

“Ah, yes, you have found me, “ She says. While others smother, she alone mothers. She has said, “ I am the one who bears all the pairs of opposites. I am the one who has filled herbs with herbs with their juices.

I am the one who has given shapes to worlds. For one who sacrifices, I carry treasures. I am the shining nation. I am all nations. I am the gatherer of all treasures. I am the one in whose presence all doubts vanish. The gods carry me within themselves.

He who loves me, he whom I love, I make him a sage. I make him a saint. I grant him the greatest treasure of intuitive wisdom. In the oceans is my dwelling place. The oceans that are beyond stars. No one wafts me. I waft myself, the self-impelled, the self-propelled being of light, energy – as a wind blows all by itself.

Beyond this earth I am, beyond heaven. And yet, with my power, and with my glory, I am all.”2

When S/he is mother, Her offspring are Her sparks. A spark is no different from mother. Therefore , Her offspring also is She. She’s both the fetus and the mother. I, Her fetus, am Her.

For I am the spark of that fire. And a spark is fire. In Her, I am both other and fetus. So are you all. Mother and fetus, together, the one who nourishes and the one who is nourished. The one who guards and the one who is guarded. The one who helps grow and the one who grows. You are both. You are the spark of the Mother. Spark is not a part from fire. Therefore, spark and fire are one. And the mother and the fetus are one. And you and She are one.

Therefore, wherever you walk, She is there, In you. In others. And in this eternal company, there is total solitude, for there is no other. There is no companion. If there were companions, there would be another. But there is no other person but Her. And yet, she is companion to Herself… that is you.

When you walk in this knowledge of oneness, you know that charming Mother. When She flows outwards, She becomes communication. When She flows outwards, She becomes communication. When She flows inwards, She becomes silence. It is the same flow from the depth of silence to that which communication evokes.

It is a single current, from the depth of silence within you and the sentiments that your words evoke in another mind. Speech  and silence are Her two faces. When a ripple arises in silence, it becomes an awareness in you.

When that awareness dwells there, it becomes self-awareness and becomes the moment of contemplation. When the awareness awakens the mind, it becomes a thought. When the mind moves the speech organ, she is robed in the robes of Word, the Word touches the sound. The sound touches the ear. It becomes an awareness in the mind.

The mind sees the ripples, experiences a sentiment, silently. Therefore, all communication is from silence to Her silence. All communication is form silence to Her silence. And all the notes of Her music are universes. As the same note, in a different place, sound different, so the same one in all forms looks different.

When She gathers all Her energies, She becomes a single point. When She scatters all Her energies, She becomes the world. Again She scatters all Her energies, and She becomes the living beings, you and I. The living beings swell in the living worlds, and the worlds dwell within Her, and She dwells within the living worlds.

We think we know, all of these to be, oh, so many realities. But in truth, there is only one. This light that is the sound. Sound that is the light, which is Her body.

In Her power to play, and in Her playing, She becomes incarnate beings. She becomes Sophia. She becomes Diana, she becomes Isis. She becomes Sarsaswati, She becomes Jesus, She becomes Mary. She becomes Krishna. It is She and they all as so many notes in the music that is Her body.

God may be father , but his masculinity is  a feminine force, without which, She cannot becomes a creatrix, This proud being in us, that sees long hair coming, calls it. “woman;” sees a beard coming on the roads, calls it “man.” is blinded. For there is no man. There is no woman. There is only the vibrant She.

This is the vision of reality that the yogis carry: that the creator and the destroyer dwell between Her two eyes. Red and blue circles joined to a white one. The creator and the destroyer dwell between Her two eyes. And all fultes, the sounds that ripple, are Her charms.

Her flutes take many shapes, many forms. Hear them in the throats of myriad birds in the groves at evening. Hear them in the sounds of the waking beings in the mornings. Hear them in rocks falling. Hear them in silent caves. Hear them in the ripples that arise at the depth of 36,000 feet in the ocean. Hear them in the heart of the sun. Do not see lighting hear it.

Hear it with your ears. Hear it with your eyes. Hear it with your hairroots. And when you have learned to hear lightning with your hairroots you become lightning. You become a being who is a lightning. A living lightning. Sometimes.  Sometimes. Sometimes a living moonlight.

Learn to hear lightning. Learn to hear moonlight with your hariroots. For it is when you hear these, that you hear Her, hear your mother. Some say where there is pleasure there is no spiritual liberation. Some say where there is spiritual liberation, there is no pleasure. But unique are they who are devoted to Her, for to them are granted both pleasure and liberation together. Granted in abundance. For their pleasure is liberation, their liberation is pleasure.

When She sends forth Her rays, the form a net. We are fish gathered in Her net. The net remains in the ocean, for the ocean, too, is Herself. The ocean is Her fishing net. The ocean of existence, bhaba – the ocean that is called being – is Her fishing net, in which she keeps Her pet fish.

Sometimes we make a likeness of Her and think we have captured Her in our fishing net. She smiles as a mother smile at a toddler painting Her face even though it is not in Hers.

It is this vast vision She the yogis carry. She has made us in Her own image. Medically speaking every fetus is first a female. Only later, it becomes specialized every fetus is first a female. Only later, it becomes spcialized as male or continues to be female. Therefore, She has made us in Her own image and has granted us this resilience. So that the mind never becomes static. Whatever comes its way, to that it responds.

We complain at mind’s resilience. It is thus we see the contrast of the strength of the resilient and the weakness of the brittle masculine. Wherever She is the resilient strength is to be found. There emanates a light; that is a light of love.

Where am I to find Her? Where am I to see Her? As in a tiny seed the entire mighty banyan tree dwells, so in my heart, the whole universe vibrates and in the core of that universe dwells She, the still point from which all things emanate and to which all things are gathered.

When She’s known, the sorrows become pleasures. The poisons become ambrosia. The worldliness becomes liberation. The world being within Her, when I dwell in the world, I dwell in the realization of Her. Hence the worldliness becomes spiritual liberation.

It is quite a secret. All things lovely. All things moonlike. All things waterlike. All things herblike. All things like twisting, turning vines. Streams and rivers. Are her own energies. Her own weave and interweave. One of Her names is knowledge, science. When She touches a tree, it blooms. When She touches a rosebush, it flowers.

When She place Her hand over a plant, it becomes fragrant. As to the eight snares by which we are bound – hate, doubt, fear, shame, aversion, loyalties to little tribes, identity only as one mere species, and traits of character – when She stretches to us Her fingers, these eight snares are loosened and we are made free.

 

One who has been thus touched by Her becomes a master of his senses. Seek that touch. Seek that thrill. That trill flowing outwards is your desire. That trill flowing inwards is celibacy. That trill flowing outwards is passion. That thrill flowing inwards is stillness.

The home becomes heaven. The proud bow. The worldly unions become liberations. The hateful become amicable. The sinful become saintly. The ruler of the entire earth becomes your servant. Death comes as a physician. The flaws become marks of perfection – if you have one found, touched, and grabbed Her feet, and have held onto them.3

Her dwelling place is an island. The entire island is a jewel. So the meditators say. Her home is an island. The entire island is a jewel. It is surrounded by a milky white ocean of light. One may sail for many lifetimes in body-boats rowing with sense-oars of many shapes and forms. Rowing day and night on this milky white ocean of light one will yet not find the island that is the jewel in the heart which is her dwelling place.

One may row and row and will not find it till Her own ray of kindness and compassion and grace, emanates and touches and, lo, the ray becomes a rope that pulls your body-boat to the shore of the island that is the jewel in the core of which is Her dwelling place. So, the meditators say.

That you may sail and you may row on this milky white ocean of light for eons upon eons, changing from one body-boat to another, and not find it, not find it, till a single ray of compassion, kindness, and reasonless grace, causeless grace, grace invoked b no act of yours, may emanate forth and the ray may touch your body-boat and become a rope and gather your boat and pull it to the shore of the island that is a single jewel in the core of which is Her dwelling palce.

Some have seen her. As an explosion of sky-lightning. In that sight, an eternity reveals itself. When you stand in the presence of that sight, in that light, in the sight of that light, the times of all the worlds that have ever been , of all the words that shall ever be, all, come together in the moment.

Some have seen Her as a drop of ambrosia, falling through the tenth gate, the solar gate, in the top of you skull and then entering you. In that drop, all the grace that has ever been in the palms of ll the incarnate beings that have ever been and that shall ever be is granted there in that moment. All incarnate beings come to dwell within you. And you become their home.

On your face, then, people can see Jesus, or they can see Krishna, or they can see Buddha, and all the enlightened ones that have ever been and that shall ever be. Creating, maintaining, dissolving.

Creating, maintaining, dissolving, withholding, revealing. These are Her fine games she plays with us. Plays within Herself. For, we are the sparks. She’s the fire. The spark is not apart from fire. When this fire plays with its sparks, the fire plays with fire, and the fire is not burnt. When fire plays with fire, fire is not burnt.

When one ocean wave overwhelms another ocean wave, the second wave is not drowned. When darkness touches light, darkness vanishes. When light touches light becomes twice what it was.

This game goes on in the bosom of infinity. You forget that you were water in the ocean, so when the large wave came forth, you thought you would be drowned. That is called fear. You forgot you were a spark, so when a huge flame came to make you large as itself, you thought that death, and not life, was approaching you. But when you know all of these to be Her forms, Her bodies, Her play, and know yourself as water in that ocean, a flame in that fire, then there is no fear, as there is no other. One fears only an other.

Will you then understand what you are, who you are, lonely soul? For whom are you lonely? For your own true self? Who She Herself is? Him? In the first, muladhara chakra She dwells as the earth. In the second chakra, svadishthana, She dwells as the waters. In the third dwells as all the airs. In the throat She dwells as all the spaces. Between the eyebrows She dwells as all minds, which is one mind. In emanates myriad rays. Fifty-six rays, it is said, from the earth. Fifty-two rays, it is said, from the waters. Sixty-two rays, it is said, in the fires. Fifty-four rays, it is said, in the mind. Penetrated together by a single ray which is Her own being. Do not ask me the secret of these rays. For when you are in touch with your emanations, you know them.

Who else emanates but yourself? In each breath, all of these rays emanate from you. Then the world is seen as triangles upon triangles, upward triangles penetrated by downward triangles penetrated by upward triangles – all held within a single circle with lotus leaves emanating and you enter the central point of that universe and become one. Do become the One!

Oh, you are so many. Sometimes you are a body. Sometimes you are your breath. Sometimes  you are your fear. Sometimes you are your doubt. Sometimes you are your strength. Sometimes you are your weakness. You cannot make up are determination or you are absence thereof. You see with your eyes and you becomes an eye. You hear with your ear and you become an ear. You speak with your tongue and you become a tongue. A certain feeling, and you become love. Another emotion and you become hate. Oh, so many. Each one at war with all the others.

The newspapers are filled with wars among nations and within nations. No one speaks of the war that we carry on within our persons. Cease these wars. Let all the warring zones unite. Know that you are fire. You are spark. You are drop. You are ocean. Know that and your loneliness will become your peaceful solitude. Your passion will become your celibacy. Your verbosity will become your silence. Your agitation will become your stillness. The many will become One, that one which actually never ever became many.

I wish you this day a glimpse of the light of this inner woman’s eyes. I wish for you a baptismal immersion in a wave of beauty of your own fulfilled self.

 

  1. Paraphrase of Rig-Veda X.127.1-8
  2. Paraphrase of Rig-Veda X.121.1-8
  3. Paraphrase of a verse quoted in a Sanskrit commentary on Saundarya-lahari

 

 

Leave a Reply