“Do not be concerned about such things as
differences of nationality, of age, of colour of skin,” the carpet seller told
me, “the only one difference that matters, is the closed heart or the open
heart. When I sell my carpets, I charge a much higher price to those with a
closed heart and cheap, cheap, cheap for those with an open heart.”
The experiment he requested of me, to maintain
an open heart, was to walk amongst the poor in the city. “Make human contact!”,
he told me, “connect without the dismissive act of simply handing over a few
rupees.
A blind man I encountered was begging with his
hand out, taking his hand in mine, as we sat together on the pavement. He
touched my head, slowly. A little girl I met spontaneously kissed my arms and I
kissed hers. A wandering Sadhu and I held eye contact for what seemed like an
eternity.
One day, when I returned to the carpet man, an
American tourist was insisting that he buy a particular carpet hanging on the
wall. He proclaimed, rather verbosely and stamping his feet that he would pay
any price, but to no avail, he was told it was not for sale. My carpet friend
explained to me that the man’s heart was very closed (if not his mouth) and the
carpet would not be happy with him. “It
will be good for him not to get his way,” he told me, “This way, perhaps he
will make a little room for God in his heart.” He then poured more tea and
another day passed as they always did, without me ever buying a carpet.
Most religions of course, call upon us to
surrender to a higher power, to live beyond merely self-driven goals and
the endless pursuit of trinkets, carpets, dramas and other
worldly ideas that in our deluded way, we believe will bring us
contentment and peace. In the Bhagavad Gita it says, “Who so foresaketh all
desires and goes onwards free from yearnings, selfless and without ego – He
goes in peace.” These were the words chosen for a remarkable and loving
woman with whom I spent many hours of silent eye contact and laughter and who
passed away this year. Whatever matter we discussed, she would either ask you
to focus on gratitude or simply say, “God is great.”
A Course in Miracles, not
unlike the Gita in some respects, reminds us that the first obstacle to peace
is the desire to get rid of it. In the text, the ego part of ourselves is
portrayed as a somewhat greedy adolescent, thrashing around, with endless
self-centred desires to manipulate, control, stand-out from the crowd, get what
it wants regardless of others, all of which fail to bring any sustainable
happiness whatsoever. In the teachings of Jesus, who I confess I had a huge
crush on as a child, the ego is essentially a revengeful character – if I don’t
get what I want I’m coming after you. This ego of course, these desires, these
yearnings, only exist in the mind, hence, why the traditions of mind-training
are such a central idea in most religious practices.
In meditation, India’s finest tradition of
mind-training, one is taught to observe, in physical stillness one’s mind, the
antics of the adolescent ego and is various wailing demands for attention. A
simple way to experience the utter insanity of your own mind is to sit still
for about 20 minutes and simply focus on the movements of your breath, in and
out. Notice what rubbish enters your mind, how the ego loves to inflate itself
in grandiosity, self-pity and irresponsible mutterings that the world isn’t
doing what you want it to do! The ego loves to complain about what it is not
getting, rather than a firmer voice that asks if you are not getting, maybe you
should ask how you are not giving. In the Buddhist traditions of
non-attachment, including non-attachment to thought of course, I remember a
teacher explaining to us, “Treat all your thoughts as guests at a dinner party,
do not spend too much time on any one.”
The idea that in order to be happy, you need
hair extensions, hair implants, a fake smile, a young attractive girlfriend, a
fast car, drugs, diamonds, five apartments and bar in your living room that
would shame the British Raj, are merely thoughts that arise firstly in the
mind. The biggest con of the ego, it’s favourite devise is that of comparison,
the idea that if you have more than someone else, work harder, achieve
more to run away from yourself, you will feel an elevated sense of who you
are. Perhaps you do, fleetingly and can swagger for a moment as a winner for a
while. However, such feelings are never sustainable, because deep down, you
know that this happiness is fraudulent and merely based on destructive or
distancing urges and a deep sense of not feeling good enough at all. In
short, you smile to the crowd, and cower in the mirror, if you dare look that
is. What appears as a call for some change of things in external manifestations
is perhaps really a call for an inside job, a change that begins in the
interior, in the mind. But changing the internal thoughts of matters regarding
self-worth, one’s very ideas of what we need to be happy, requires reflection,
being still, a rather ruthless interrogation of oneself and a commitment to
peace. What a blessing though, our evolution is in our own hands! It means I
can indeed to choose to change my thoughts, and indeed what I utter. Or
as Marianne Williamson, a teacher of A Course in Miracles puts it, the devils
not out there in the world – it’s worse or better, depending on how you look at
it - the devils in your own mind.
Many years ago, I was asked to give a talk at
a New Year’s dinner hosted by one of the American Investment Banks. “On what
precisely?” I asked my client. “Anything inspiring about the New Year,” he
replied. So the topic I chose was the “The Seven Gifts of Choice.” These Seven
Gifts I talked about are the gifts we give ourselves: (1) The willingness to
consider that you do not necessarily know what is in your best interests, (2)
That maybe there is a greater plan to events and occurrences that you do not
understand, (3) Whatever you choose to do begins first in your mind, from
either a closed or a loving heart, (4) Purification of the mind is always
necessary, through meditation or contemplation, (5) To hold any grievance
against another is like eating poison and hoping they will die, (6) Whatever
shows up in your life that you do not like, take a ruthless inventory of how
you yourself have manifested the problems you have, (7) The best gift you can
give yourself is to live with gratitude for all the wonderful people and the
gifts that have come your way on life’s journey.
Happy
New Year!
Julia
ReplyDeletewhat a sad news for us that u r moving back to england and will not longer write 'Bewildered in Bombay'. I used to wait for your mail alerting the blog update. Will miss the intellectual stimulation,clarity of thought and the marvellous insights ur blog to me. Hope u start another blog 'Engaging with England' and add me on the mailing list!!
Priya