Rebecca Jane

Meditations on Stories 18

March 18th, 2021

18 of 31 Questions for Reflection. Today’s question is inspired by reading Dṛg Dṛsya Viveka: An Inquiry Into the Seer and the Seen alongside the biography of Swami Vivekananda.

What questions arise when I focus on the “sisters and brothers of America” as objects of Vedanta meditation?

In 1893, Swami Vivekananda traveled by boat from India, through Hong Kong, Japan, and to Vancouver, and he finally made his way to his destination: Chicago. Though he was not formally scheduled to speak as a delegate, Professor Wright of Harvard University assured him, “To ask you, Swami, for credentials is like asking the sun if it has permission to shine.” On September 11, 1893, Swami Vivekananda stood before a large crowd who was attending the World Parliament of Religions in Chicago, and he said, “Sisters and brothers of America …” And the crowd burst into an uproar of thrill and applause at the simple utterance. It was a well-worn phrase for opening up a speech, but the way Swami Ji said it, with his projection, the wisdom that supported every word he spoke, and his presence transformed a common speech opening into a statement of simple truth: our humanity makes us kin.

I’ve been spending time just sitting and imagining the scene at the Parliament of Religions in Chicago in 1893. With three words, Swami Ji convinced us we are family. I’ve been repeating the historic moment in my head, letting it run through me the way I practice mantra japa unto embodiment of the mantra. It is refreshing to deeply meditate, to repeatedly conjure that feeling that we are sisters and brothers.

Meditating on sisters and brothers, a Jnana yogi might ask, “Oh Sisters and brothers of America, are we experiencing our kinship as real right now? Sisters and brothers of America, are we feeling strong desire to know Advaita (non-dual reality)?”

#AdvaitaVedanta #stories
Meditations on Stories 17

March 17th, 2021

17 of 31 Questions for Reflection. Today’s question is inspired by reading Dṛg Dṛsya Viveka: An Inquiry Into the Seer and the Seen alongside a story by Gyӧrgy Dragomán called “The Puppet Theater”

What questions arise when I focus on the “scarcity and abundance” as objects of Vedanta meditation?

Olgika takes the narrator by the hand and leads him through an outer courtyard then an inner courtyard to a big, iron door. She pushes it open, telling him that she is going to show him something he has never seen before, something quite extraordinary. They walk through a large space with old puppets hanging from the ceiling and crates stacked on top of each other. Then they get to another door. They greet the godmother, and she pushes them into a huge space with endless shelves stocked full of packaged food, candy, chocolate, toilet paper, coffee, canned fish, etc. etc. etc. They stand in awe at all this abundance, especially after years of living with stores that had empty shelves, food items had been so scarce. Human beings would murder each other that one tin of fish. So when the godmother is able to offer the younger generation all of this abundance, she feels overcome with emotion and love. The godmother and Olgika embrace one another while eating chocolate; the crumbs fall to the floor. Meanwhile, the narrator feels compelled to tear open every package, knock items off the shelves, toss the abundance in the air. The narrator feels a strange sense of wanting those abandoned puppets, the horse, the owl, the bird to carry him away from all that abundance that seems to him too sweet, that easily turns nauseating.

Meditating on scarcity and abundance, a Jnana yogi might ask, “When scarcity arises then dissolves in awareness, how can this prevent hunger? When abundance arises and dissolves in awareness, how can this prevent over indulgence? When we see once-starved godmothers bestowing over-abundance upon young people, does identifying with illuminating consciousness reveal oneness or variations? How does this set us free?”

#AdvaitaVedanta #stories
Meditations on Stories 16

March 16th, 2021

16 of 31 Questions for Reflection. Today’s question is inspired by reading Dṛg Dṛsya Viveka: An Inquiry Into the Seer and the Seen alongside a story by Gabriel Garcia Marquez called “Blacaman the Good, Vendor of Miracles”

What questions arise when I focus on the “miracles” as an object of Vedanta meditation?

A con man named Blacaman takes on an apprentice. He is cruel to the boy, and this cruelty somehow makes the boy into a great miracle worker. The boy can heal the sick. He can bring back the dead, but he doesn’t like to do that because the dead prefer their eternal rest. The boy helps the con man restore his wealth and reputation. However, when Blacaman dies, the boy does bring his mentor back from the dead and leaves him living in a tomb as a way to take revenge for all the tricks and deceptions he played on people who were willing to buy his snake venom antidotes. Ultimately, this whole story is a trick of the author’s genius to try to fool death with narrative.

Meditating on miracles, a Jnana yogi might ask, “If a con man stands before me, charming me, trying to convince me that his product can solve all my problems, and then I just close my eyes for a moment and mentally remember Aham Brahmasmi, will that be enough to ensure I am never deceived? Hey, con artist, aren’t my problems also Brahma? Why does it too often seem the only immortal thing is the con in infinite forms?”

#AdvaitaVedanta #stories
Meditations on Stories 15

March 15th, 2021

15 of 31 Questions for Reflection. Today’s question is inspired by reading Dṛg Dṛsya Viveka: An Inquiry Into the Seer and the Seen alongside a “The Tale of King Pariksit: Cursed to Die in Seven Days.”

What questions arise when I focus on the “curses” as an object of Vedanta meditation?

The Bhagavata Purana tells of King Pariksit who was out hunting deer when he became tired and hungry. He stopped at the hut of the sage Samika and expected the customary hospitality any priestly sage would show to a warrior king. But the king was not offered a comfortable place to sit, a bite to eat, nor tea to drink. Samika was sitting in samadhi. All of his sense perception was shut down, and he was merged in Purusa, pure consciousness. He didn’t even notice the king’s presence and was not able to host him. The king grew angry and used his hunting bow to pick up a dead snake, and he placed the snake corpse on Samika’s shoulder. Then he left.

When Samika’s young son returned and saw this, he cursed the king. The boy sent out a snake bird to deliver a lethal bite to the king. The king had seven days to live. The boy cried loudly over the offense to his father, and his cry roused Samika out of meditation.

When Samika learned that his son cursed the king, he scolded his son and told his son that brahmans don’t curse kings. He explained that saintly people don’t get easily offended because they have realized atman situated beyond the gunas.

Meanwhile, the king felt bad about his behavior, learned he was cursed, and accepted his fate. He returned home to consult with sages who helped him answer his question: when a man knows he only has a limited time left to live, what is the best way to spend that time?

Meditating on curses, a Jnana yogi might ask, “If I don’t have the resources to ‘be the better person,’ and if I am not ready to ‘forgive and forget,’ would Brahmavidya be enough to help render someone’s offense against me less hurtful? Or, if I can really see that the hurt I feel is also Brahman, then wouldn’t that be like giving people permission to hurt me?”

#AdvaitaVedanta #stories
Meditations on Stories 14

March 14th, 2021

14 of 31 Questions for Reflection. Today’s question is inspired by reading Dṛg Dṛsya Viveka: An Inquiry Into the Seer and the Seen alongside a story untitled tale told by the Taoist philosopher Chuang Tzu.

What questions arise when I focus on an “unfinished story” as an object of Vedanta meditation?

A kuai is a one-legged creature whose existence was recorded in an ancient Chinese text called The Mountain and Sea Scripture (Shan Hai Jing 山海经). The ancient philosopher Chuang Tzu told this tale about the kuai.

The kuai envies the millipede; the millipede envies the snake; the snake envies the wind; the wind envies the human eyes; the eyes envy the heart – mind.

One day, hopping on down the road, the kuai encountered the millipede and expressed admiration, “Wow! You look so graceful. How I wish I could move with many legs instead of being clumsy as I hop along on one leg. How do you do it?” The millipede said, “It’s my nature.” Down the road, the millipede encountered a snake and expressed his admiration. He asked the snake, “You move so smoothly without any legs! How do you do it?” The snake said, “it’s my nature.” Next, the snake encountered the wind and said, “Wow, you move so quickly without a body! How do you do it?” The wind said, “it’s my nature.” When the wind encountered the human eyes, in awe, the wind said, “Wow! You reach distances without moving! How do you do it?” The eyes said, “It is my nature.” The eyes then turned to the human mind – heart … {The rest of this story is lost to time. We can only guess how it ends. Or, we have to accept it as incomplete or an unanswerable mystery. Note, too, that in Chinese, there is only one word that means mind – heart together (心 xīn). The Chinese language does not make a distinction between mind and heart. Vedanta makes such a distinction; plus, Vedanta distinguishes four parts of the mind: 1. The manas is the sense perception 2. The ahamkara is the feeling of an I or ego 3. Buddhi is the intellect 4. Chitta is the storehouse of memory.}

Meditating on an unfinished story, a Jnana yogi might ask, “What would the story be if the one-legged kuai had turned her vision within, and the first being she encountered was her own heart – mind? What would become of the millipede, snake, wind, and eyes in such a story? Won’t you please tell me that story?”

#AdvaitaVedanta #stories
Meditations on Stories 13

March 13th, 2021

13 of 31 Questions for Reflection. Today’s question is inspired by reading Dṛg Dṛsya Viveka: An Inquiry Into the Seer and the Seen alongside a short story called “Real Women Have Bodies” by Carmen Mari Machado.

What questions arise when I focus on the “faded women” as an object of Vedanta meditation?

A young woman, Lindsay, worked at a dress shop in a mall. Her boss liked her. Her co-worker had a bad attitude. Young men working in the photography studio taunted her. The dresses sold well, but something was strange about them. The news of the day reported a strange phenomenon. Women were fading away. No one really knew how it happened or what fading meant. First, the women couldn’t pay their rents. In one case, some heartless landlord captured on video a woman in her vulnerable, early stages, of her fading state, and the video went viral. Nothing could explain this phenomenon of women fading. Then Lindsay met Petra, whose mother was the dress shop’s seamstress. Petra showed Lindsay where the dresses were made and stored, a place where the faded women liked to hang out. The faded women liked to be sewn into the dresses. No one knew why or how to stop it. Lindsay and Petra began a love affair that ended when one of them fades. The news eventually started to report stories about faded women connected to terrorist attacks. Meanwhile, Lindsay grieved her lost love and wanted only to free faded women from being sewn into formal dresses. But even after all the dresses were destroy, the faded women stayed in the dress shop. They didn’t move.

Meditating on faded women, a Jnana yogi might ask, “When we see the gross realm of physical reality as the ever-changing mirage, and we see the subtle realm of Being, Consciousness, and Bliss as unchanging truth, doesn’t fading become a superpower?”

#AdvaitaVedanta #stories
Meditations on Stories 12

March 12th, 2021

12 of 31 Questions for Reflection. Today’s question is inspired by reading Dṛg Dṛsya Viveka: An Inquiry Into the Seer and the Seen alongside a sacred text from the origins of Tantra called the Yoga Spandakarika by Daniel Odier.

What questions arise when I focus on the “sacred tremor” as an object of Vedanta meditation?

Once, a woman who was poor and suffering encountered a man who was a wealthy pleasure seeker. The man felt compassion toward this woman, so he invited her to join him for a warm meal at a cozy inn. Over the meal, he told her that his spiritual practice had brought him prosperity and solutions to his problems. He told her, “if you follow the spiritual path, I am sure it could really turn things around for you. It could turn all your suffering into good fortune. Would you like to follow me?” The woman looked at him and said, “Never.” He asked, “Why not?” She said, “There is nothing to turn around. I happen to love my suffering!” When the warm meal arrived, the woman overturned the table, laughed heartily, and left the inn. The man sat amidst the mess, baffled. He asked the innkeeper, “What’s her problem? Do you honestly know anyone who loves their suffering?” The innkeeper replied, “Sure, we see plenty of people come in here who say they love their suffering because what is suffering to one who feels the sacred tremor?”

Meditating on the sacred tremor, a Jnana yogi might ask, “The yogi says still the mind. The devotee says love god. The tantrika says transcend opposites. The swami says destroy ignorance. What do you say, dear One? How do you confront suffering?”

#AdvaitaVedanta #stories
Meditations on Stories 11

March 11th, 2021

11 of 31 Questions for Reflection. Today’s question is inspired by reading Dṛg Dṛsya Viveka: An Inquiry Into the Seer and the Seen alongside listening to Padraig O Tuama tell the story about the first time he kissed a man. You can hear this story on the tenX9 podcast.

What questions arise when I focus on “men kissing” as an object of Vedanta meditation?

In 2002, Padraig O Tuama moved back to Dublin, Ireland from living abroad, and he was determined to kiss a man for the first time. He identified as gay but had only shared this with a few people. At that time, homosexuality had not yet been decriminalized in Ireland, and Padraig had not yet decided whether or not he was going to become a priest. In Dublin, he reached out and found a gay support network and was casually connecting with a man named Jimmy. At this time, Padraig was also hosting an anti-gay houseguest, a very religious friend who was visiting him from abroad. To escape from the social pressure of hosting this intrusive houseguest, Padraig snuck out on a date with Jimmy. Padraig and Jimmy had a drink at a pub. When Jimmy said, “You want to do something else?” Padraig said, “Should we take a walk on the North Strand?” The men learned nice things about each other: Jimmy liked Michael Jackson; Padraig liked poetry. Jimmy liked Maeve Binchy; Padraig liked theology. They didn’t have much in common. No matter. They kissed. After the kiss, Padraig, nervous, talked on and on about his life and his fears and his ambitions and his concerns. He realized, much later, that he talked like this because he was both elated and nervous, having just shared his first kiss with a man. Jimmy, being kind and understanding, responded to Padraig’s existential passion by simply saying, “let’s go have some tea.” And so, they did. They talked and all was friendly and gentle. The two men ended the date with a hug. That was the end of it. Later, Padraig realized that though he and Jimmy had little in common, they both really liked that kiss. He also realized that when Jimmy had said “you want to do something else,” he might have had a certain imagination about what something else might mean. That meaning was lost on Padraig at that time. But that kiss meant so much to him. Mostly, he remembers Jimmy’s kindness.

Meditating on men kissing, a Jnana yogi might ask, “Is a kiss a shared intimacy between two hearts? Or, is a kiss a gentle reminder that we are one pure being?”

#AdvaitaVedanta #stories #mahashivratri2021
Meditations on Stories 10

March 10th, 2021

10 of 31 Questions for Reflection. Today’s question is inspired by reading Dṛg Dṛsya Viveka: An Inquiry Into the Seer and the Seen alongside listening to Swami Sarvapriyananda tell the story about the laundry man and his donkey.

What questions arise when I focus on “the tied donkey” as an object of Vedanta meditation?

A village laundryman went from house to house collecting laundry to wash at the river. One day, he realized he forgot to bring the rope with which he ties his donkey to a tree. If he didn’t tie the donkey, he was sure the donkey would wander while he washed the laundry. The laundry man didn’t know what to do until a fellow villager told him, “Just pretend to tie the donkey.” So, the laundryman went through the motions of tying the donkey to the tree with an invisible rope. He went down to the river to wash the clothes. At the end of the day, he was glad to see the donkey had not moved. He packed all the clean laundry on the donkey’s back and mounted him. He urged the donkey to go, but the donkey wouldn’t move. The fellow villager reminded him, “Well, you also need to pretend to untie him.” So, the laundry man went through the motions of untying the invisible rope. He remounted and urged the donkey to move. The donkey followed the laundryman’s command. This Vedantic story serves to illustrate that which binds us is an illusion. We are essentially free as the untied donkey. Realize we are not really tied. Realize the rope is invisible.

Meditating on the tied donkey, a Jnana yogi might ask, “What in this life now feels binding? Will seeing this tie as an illusion help to ease any troubles?”

#AdvaitaVedanta #stories
Meditations on Stories 9

March 9th, 2021

9 of 31 Questions for Reflection. Today’s question is inspired by reading Dṛg Dṛsya Viveka: An Inquiry Into the Seer and the Seen alongside reading a short story called The Hunger Artist by Franz Kafka.

What questions arise when I focus on “the hunger artist” as an object of Vedanta meditation?

A man in a cage makes a spectacle of his ability to go 40 days without food. Crowds of onlookers respond in various ways from admiration to scorn. Some suspect he may be sneaking food. Women wish to be the ones to help him out of the cage to walk to his first meal to break the fast. The impresario advertises and dramatizes the spectacle. Inevitably, over time, crowds lose interest. As the hunger art goes out of style, the artist can find no other way to be. He joins a circus where the supervisor places his cage near the menagerie. Crowds pass by with little or no interest. The hunger artist eventually achieves his glory of fasting ceaselessly, but by that time, no one cares. He’s forgotten and casually replaced by a beautiful – and hungry – panther.

Meditating on the hunger artist, a Jnana yogi might ask, “Whose gaze do you perceive to be most real: is it the eyes of others looking at you and reacting to you? Is it the inner eyes of your own mind judging your performances? Or, is it the gaze of the Witness that remains unimpacted by life, remains in continuing Existence, Consciousness, Bliss?”

#AdvaitaVedanta #stories