The God Within

The frigid temps, early snow and blustery wind had me huddling in my bed yesterday with a small dog seeking refuge under warm down covers. It was a day that my friend Lourdes and I agreed upon - melancholic. But sometimes you need to reach blue depths in order to sustain those flights into the stratosphere.

Reminds me of one of the inspiring lines from Elizabeth Gilbert's book - Eat, Pray, Love. In it she describes a simple mantra: Om Namah Shivaya which translates to "I honor the Divinity Within Me". What could be simpler or more powerful? Funny thing about meditation. The act itself of stilling the mind brings about the exact result that one is usually seeking. In my case, respite from the scatty, bratty thoughts roaming my mind. A cease fire or sorts that allows purity of focus. Ah, could there be such a thing? There could and is. It just requires the removal of mental detritus to get there. And to remove gunk you've got to be very still, very quiet. Banish thoughts of what to wear tomorrow. Rid thoughts of what to prepare for dinner. Forget the dentist appointment. And finally it's there.

Om Namah Shivaya - try it sometime.

Om is where the heart is

Om seems to be a trend of late. I've written about the birth of a wee boy name Om. And this weekend I had the distinct pleasure of experiencing a tuning fork set to the frequency of Om. The location was Newark, NJ - my friend Lourdes' home. I know what you're thinking - driveby gunfire, car alarms, thugs on the street corner. Oh no no no. First of all, she has priviledge of living in the uptown part of Newark. More importantly, her home couldn't be further removed from inner city violence and ugliness. Imagine an English cottage garden in the front yard. Think on flowering perennials and herbs tilting in the breeze. Sage so pungent that she dries and ties it with string for homemade smudges. Then picture a cosy house painted in brilliant colors and festooned with Disney characters. How un-innercity can you get? Moreover, the staggering supply of crystals, dieties, candles and assorted talismans keep this home as safe and protected as the Rosetta Stone.

It was in this setting that Lourdes brought out the tuning fork, informing us that it was set to the frequency of Om. Of course we had to test this declaration by thumping it vigorously to hear the low decibel vibrations. Placed to the hand the emissions went straight through bone and muscle. We thought it capable of breaking up muscle distress, memories and even disease. Perhaps you would like to try it yourself?

A Child is Born

My dear friends Rupa and Kiran welcomed their second child into the world yesterday. While the wee lad doesn't have a name yet, he certainly does possess a personality - at only 18 hours old! He fluttered his wispy eyelashes, although infants can not see until a few days after birth. I was so moved by watching the new mother, battered by the ravages of birthing and yet proud of her grand creation. The father was also exhausted but soberingly vocal while speaking to a group of visiting men.

"You can't imagine how much a woman goes through. You can't imagine the pain she has to endure. I couldn't handle it myself at first. Imagine having to endure that for hours is crazy."

Hats off to Kiran for voicing a tribute the creative force and endless strength of womanhood.

But the visit wasn't all about the gore of delivery. There were sweet spots. Rupa's aunt bringing in a tupperware full of her favorite Kitchadi, sour rice flavored with nuts and seasonings. Kiran's brother and fiancee - looking longingly at the little man with cherished dreams of their own. Rupa's father, cradling the newborn after swearing he wouldn't touch him until the age of 6 months. And Rupa herself, reigning over her guests as majestically as a queen. Handing out Indian sweets - Misurpak, Ladoos, Rasmali - as is the Indian custom. Sweets made from milk and sugar to celebrate a birth.

And as I finished this post I got a call from the happy Mama, notifying me that baby was indeed christened with a name, that being Om. The all-encompassing symbol of mystical entity. How fabulous is that!