Sunday, June 26, 2011


October 6th, 2008 is a day I will never forget. My husband and I were packing to fly to Santa Monica, California to attend the wedding of a close friend. After years of what she termed as being, 'maritally challenged,' my friend had met a wonderful man and we were looking forward to witnessing their union.

However, on the eve of the trip, we turned on the television and with shock and disbelief, listened to a newscaster announcing that our bank had dramatically collapsed. It was surreal. Alongside the sickening awareness that our life savings were suddenly swallowed up, was the searing insight that I was looking into the face of my worst possible fear. As a child, I had inherited two things from my father, one a strong work ethic and two, the belief that,

"Money does not grow on trees and is hard to come by."

In the past, this kind of situation would have thrown me into complete turmoil and prompted an inner tsunami. However, after years of meditation practices and having learned to view everything as an aspect of my own consciousness, I knew what needed to be done.

First, I accepted the situation as a gift, immediately creating an intention to turn it into a positive, abundant experience.

Second, I wrote a statement in my journal declaring:

"Fine! If we have lost everything, then let this be a beautiful starting point. How do I wish to spend the remainder of my life? What is it that I have always wanted to do and never had the courage to initiate?"

Third, I began to work on the situation energetically.

When I sat quietly and asked:

"How does this financial situation manifest in terms of an image and a metaphor for my life?"

I saw a huge, dark pit, descending deep into the ground. It was potentially terrifying and I knew it had the power to suck me in, draining all my energy and resources. The title I gave it was:

"Bottomless Pit."

Now that I could 'see' it, I declared that I was choosing to respond positively and began directing light to the image, working on reducing the size of the opening. For days and weeks after, every time fear began surfacing in response to lack, I would visualize the hole becoming smaller and smaller until it was completely gone. In its place, rising up and out into the universe, was a strong web of light, like a vast tree, spreading golden limbs into infinity reflecting the truth that the universe gifts us with limitless resources if we believe we are the source of abundance, rather than believing in lack.

The gift of losing everything was amazing. I was finally forced to face my subconscious fears around lack and I had to access the courage to take ownership of what I most wanted to create in my life, centered around sharing my spiritual gifts, skills and talents. Since then, I have come to realize that when we have the courage to BE who we are, rather than hiding in fear, we become the embodiment of abundance and the universe can not help but respond in kind.

Excerpt of Lesson Two: 'From Turmoil to Transformation'-

in conjunction with Daily OM at:

Monday, June 20, 2011


What can be said of love?
That has not been spoken of,
In a million ways,
And on a million tongues?

In vain,
We try giving form,
To the formless,
Like attempting,
To capture light,
In a small glass jar.

Many moons ago,
I thought,
I knew what love was,
But thinking,
Has no part in this.

When I looked,
Into the eyes,
Of the Beloved,
I gave myself,
To infinity.

Once there,
I was captivated,
By the mysteries,
Of worlds,
Within worlds.

There is,
No hope,
For me.

You see,
I am gone,
Having realized,
I am drunkenly,

Monday, June 13, 2011


For one sweet moment,
Just let go,
Of the million thoughts,
Dancing around,
In your mind.

Though enticing,
They will wear you out.

In truth,
You are not,
The captain of any ship,
Deciding where to go.

You are,
The vast ocean,
Of limitless,

There is no need,
To try,
And control,
The stunning beauty,
And mystical nature,
Of who you,
Really are.

Monday, June 6, 2011


Moonson India is not for the faint of heart. Before the rains fall, marked by a sky slashed with fierce lightning and roaring thunder, moisture hangs heavily, pushing through skin, muscle and bone. The body feels as if it is submerged under the weight of an entire ocean and even the smallest movement requires effort.

In truth, I had gone to India with that intention in mind. I had gone looking for the limitless ocean of consciousness, which I was told I already was, yet I was soon challenged by the heat, constant diarrhoea and the rigors of having to admit I was filled to the brim with a slew of dark emotions. In short, Nirvana was not exactly the word I would have chosen to describe the state I was in.

One oppressively hot afternoon, believing I had twenty minutes grace before the heavens opened, I made my way to visit someone I admired enormously. Mr. Patel was a sinewy little man who had set up shop across the street from where I lived and for as little as three rupees, he would iron any item presented to him. Yes, iron! In unrelenting heat and humidity, he would energetically press wrinkles out of fine Indian cotton using a dense, skillet-looking iron.

Mr Patel greeted me with a broad grin, sideways shake and wobble of his head and the usual, "Very good! I am happy to be seeing you!" Then he took the scrap of paper I handed over, noting the clothes I had left with him and disappeared behind a dark curtain.

Several slow, long minutes ticked by interspersed with Mr Patel calling out, "Sorry! Looking, looking," until lightning began filling the sky, seconds ahead of ominous thunder. With that, rain began cascading down, bouncing knee-high off the dusty streets and rattling off cars and motorcycles as they raced by. A welcome and refreshing breeze blew in with the deluge, growing in such strength, the sound began shaking the room with deafening intensity.

Finally, Mr Patel appeared with an armful of beautifully pressed shirts, punjabi's and scarves dangling delicately from metal hangers. He carefully proceeded to take each one off the hanger, laying it flat and folding it with neat precision before placing it on a pile. Then gently wrapping the bundle in thick brown paper, he secured everything together with a length of fine string, knotted and tied in a pretty bow.

By the time he was done and I turned to face the door, the road was awash with knee-deep, dirty water, swirling and cascading in a torrent as it headed downhill toward a nearby village. Behind me, Mr Patel called out, "Monsoon! What to do! Must accept, must accept!" And that said, I realized, there was no option other than to take off my sandals, roll up my cotton pants and wade through the muddy brown river that had formed right outside the door.

Cautiously stepping into the flood, precariously holding my sandals under my arm, brown paper package in one hand and an umbrella in the other, I began laughing at the absurdity of it all. I had given up my job, my friends, family and the comforts of life to come to India and be with an Enlightened Master who I had hoped would show me God.

However, instead of swimming in bliss, my mind had been over-run with doubtful thoughts describing the physical, emotional and psychological distress of being outside my safe, comfort driven environment. Now, here in complete contrast, was a simple 'ironing dhobi,' happily embracing his lot, enjoying the challenges of his life and offering a profound teaching.

With the words, "Accept, accept!" ringing in my ears, I suddenly realized Nirvana was not to be found in exalted states beyond where I was right now. All that was required, was to accept whatever was presenting itself, to really welcome it in and let go of all resistance. Only then, would I be able to be at peace with all that India was generously offering, including intestinal amoebas, oppressive heat and the dramatic, unexpected and delightful wonders of monsoon.

Friday, June 3, 2011


What of success,
If you,
Do not know yourself,
As the limitless One?

What have you attained,
If you have never,
Longed for true freedom?

And what have you gained,
If you have never felt,
The joy of surrender,
And become,
A bamboo flute,
In the hands,
Of the Beloved.


Where I end,
And you begin,
There is no saying.

This is an ocean,
With no shore.

When the small shell,
Of understanding,
Is broken;
We realize,
Everything is You,
The I Am,
There is.