Beyond this, Beyond that and Beyond Fear

I often write about the Brahma Kumaris because they are some of the spiritual treasures of today.  If you came to St Martin-in-the-Fields on November 26th to Just this Day you will have heard Sister Jayanti or you may have viewed the film? If not, here it is. 

If you would like to hear Sister Jayanti speak about harnessing the power of Silence to banish fear, she will be in conversation on January 14th with Paul Palmarozza, author and Director of If I Can and a tutor in philosophy at School of Economic Science and Lynne McTaggart, author, lecturer and journalist.  Why not go along at 7.00 pm to the welcoming Global House, UK centre of the Brahma Kumaris, Global Co-operation House, 65-69 Pound Lane, London NW10 2HH 
To register for this event click on this link

fishfingers creep into meditation at Christmas time

Cheerio cousins

Fishfinger dream

Have you heard of the theory that all this life is a dream?  In ancient texts there are stories of how Kings discovered this through the  experience of finding themselves in a dream propelling  them through whole lives with dramatic twists and turns. They may end up killed/crowned/married and then just as the axe is about to fall or the bride walk up the aisle, they wake up and find that only a few seconds have passed.  Well don't you find that Christmas is like this: you get started on December 21st,  stocking up for the Christmas seige with the giant pack of Cheerios, party poppers, satsumas, extra potatoes, stocking fillers, turkeys, sausages, breadsauce and fishfingers too.  You make up the beds, wrap up the presents, decorate the tree, hang up the mistletoe, polish the floor, the furniture and everything else in sight including Grandpa! Then you open the door and in they come and the fun begins and goes on with paper and string and games and little snoozes for Grandpa and the occasional film on the telly and you try to keep up your meditation practice.  But then the dream creeps into your meditation and suddenly in place of the proper focus of your attention being a mantra or a silent presence, you forget you are free of all care and think...fishfingers will do the trick tonight...and your peace dissolves into planning the fishfinger supper.

We are about to say goodbye to the last visitors and take down the holly and the Christmas tree and the dream which was Christmas 2014 will disappear just as the fishfinger dream disappeared.  Lucky for this dreamer that Grandpa will still be here to say that the dream was good fun and to help with the clearing up dream which is next.

Is that Grandpa in the corner

hoovering almost as good as meditating!

When Christmas gets to you and your peace of mind is shattered, get Henry out and as he busies about sucking up the bits of jigsaw puzzle and cracker contents you may rediscover the peace of mind which got lost under the Christmas arrangements.  But watch out, he has a mind of his own and as you are rediscovering the simple pleasure of hoovering and going for the long wire, he suddenly stops and the rest of him won't come round that corner and you have to go back and persuade him by straightening out the wire and coaxing him into position.  He is your mantra while you hoover, you depend on him to keep a singleness of attention.  Clearly he has his problems too because he tunes in rapidly to yours and he knows just how to trigger your irritations and equally how to soothe them.  Let Henry test your powers of detachment, he knows what it is to be connected!

God is a feeling, a Christmas blog

I may be wrong but this is what I feel.
I have heard about God and read about God.  I know that God has many names in many cultures and in many religions, many interpretations of what God is.  I have searched for God, prayed to God and wondered about God.  Is God male? female? personal? impersonal? Does God inhabit a place? or is God so ineffable that he/she or it can never be known?
But once this year I felt what God might be and here is the story in a Christmas blog special.  This year, in the autumn I was on a Sinai desert adventure and woke up early under the great big clear sky all set about with stars.  All my worst and most unhappy thoughts came roaring straight at me.  What was I to do?  I was under the marvellous canopy of heaven and here were the few things which had the power to snatch away comfort and sleep!  So, I lay there saying the Lord's Prayer over and over again and all of a sudden, instead of the Our Father being a concept, the Our Father was Father, was the feeling you have when you consider someone who loves you with no questions asked, the supreme parent.  He/She/It was the feeling you have when you are loved just for your self.  Where was that feeling? It was both inside and outside, both personal and universal, it was every single being's parent.  It was a feeling and the feeling was real, as real as the stars in the sky. It was a real Christmas moment.

Starry sky

Santa's little helper has trouble with a mantra

Watch out for this fellow, he's after you!

It's that time of year and my inner Santa (note not my inner centre) is calling the shots!  I am that inner Santa's helper and my goodness Santa keeps me busy.  I get that morning meditation in but as soon as that's over, the list of tasks begins to fill and Santa is so repetitive, no request comes singly, it's over and over again..."Have you got mistletoe? Have you finished the Christmas cards? Have you remembered him or her or them? Have you ordered the turkey, counted the glasses, cleaned the silver, the windows and oh yes, have you decorated the tree?  And when you have done that, don't you think you should start the wrapping up?
So, out of the window goes the mantra and into the space slots that insistent Santa.  It is that time of year and I can feel Santa ratcheting up the demands.  Sometimes Santa wins but just sometimes, I get through meditation, mantra in place and no jingle bells at all.
Good luck to everyone else dealing with that red hatted old tradition, keep him in his place and once Christmas is over, make certain he goes back up the chimney.

Oh dear King Lear! a poor old Grandpa in a wheelchair

This trendy Granny went to Islington to see an all women play based on King Lear.  Lear's Daughters is set around the presence of a King who isn't really there and it is the empty wheelchair that sets a Granny thinking because the whole play is set around that empty space.   The all women theatre company, the Footfall theatre are impressive, their footfall is quietly powerful:  whilst using Shakespeare's words they weave the story from their own perspective as Lear's inheritors. They are inheritors not just of his kingdom but of his welfare.  He has handed his kingdom and himself over to them in the vain hope that the gift will insure his future.  But they and we are facing the whole question of caring for the older person (the Grandparent!!) especially now when the grandparent is likely to live for some time.   While you watch the play, you are thinking that the wheelchair is empty, you are with the daughters dealing with the content of the wheelchair, they have their different stories as you do about their life in relation to the old man, he is an object with needs but his existence isn't his own, it belongs to them, the inheritors.  But they have their own lives with their own problems and their own tendencies to contend with.  And it suddenly dawns on you, that you and everybody else is the person or will be the person who inhabits the wheelchair.  And it suddenly dawns on the daughters that they have killed their own humanity in dealing with Lear as an object.
There are going to be so many of us grannies and grandpas shortly because we will be kept alive and we may be thinking we deserve good treatment because after all haven't we given them our kingdoms whatever that kingdom may be?   BUT what will they do, the inheritors, they won't know that the empty wheelchair is waiting for them as well, they won't necessarily know that this is "the promised end"  So if you are free over the next week or so, get along to the Hope Theatre and feel yourself edging towards the empty wheelchair.

crisps and red wine don't improve meditation

Those who advertise crisps and red wine entice us by making us think we will feel better when we open the packet and eat the delicious crisp made from an innocent potato grown in our good old English fields!  The wine advertisements show happy merry people sipping ruby red wine and having conversations round a polished table with all the people we might like to imagine ourselves to be friends with.
Government health warnings say something different:  they say that we are much more likely to be overweight from all the saturated fat in the enticing crisp and we are much more likely to suffer diseases from drinking too much red wine or any of red wine's alcoholic relatives.
So, as we reach out for the glass and open the packet of cheese and onion crisps we are torn between our desire for the first and a slight concern that we might actually be turning into a roly-poly alcoholic medical statistic.
There is a third point...and this is familiar ground...How does crisp eating and red wine drinking affect my spirit!  Not good say I!  My good friends the Brahma Kumaris don't drink wine, I am not sure about crisps and I know that they are up earlier than me, the red wine drinker.  Their discipline gives them more time for God and more time for helping others.
Watch the film from Just this Day 2014 on You Tube, you will meet Sister Jayanti and two other speakers.  I don't know how many crisps the other speakers might munch or how many glasses of wine they drink but I do know that Sister Jayanti keeps clear of the enticing messages of the advertisers, you just can't imagine her WITH a packet of crisps let along eating one nor could you see her with a glass of wine, it just wouldn't fit.