Samsarā - No longer an ocean but just a notion

The sorrow go round of samsarā stake

Keeps Jivā in the cycle of give and take

Lack of discrimination between real and fake

Makes the projections bake the cake

Freedom from wants emerges as a small thought

But soon is overpowered by numerous other thoughts

'Likes' manifest as passions and ambitions

'Dislikes' expresses as aversions and frustrations

Validation for this is provided in family festivals

Appreciation is rendered in potluck gatherings

Flash flood of samsarā sinks the Jivā down

Cry for help emerges in desperation

A paper boat of 'good karma' is not enough

It can sink Jivā with weak strings of fear

Lotus leaf is the age old nonstick pan

Floats in samsarā flood like a Zen

A strong desire to be free is needed

That desire can propel the journey

It burns like a coal fire in the head

And the ignorance has to be shred

The U turn happens towards self knowledge

The samsarā ocean suddenly dries up

It is no longer an ocean but just a notion

This radical change is a promotion

Guru is the chef who serve this preset menu

This priceless feast feeds the real 'you'

An age old root cause analysis is done

Freedom is felt right here after the spun

Swamini Svatmavidyanada Mundakopanishad class 3 Jan 30 2022

Comments

A Tale of Two birds

A Tale of two birds Old Īśvara had a farm, And on this farm He had a tree, And on this tree there sat a bird, With a coo coo here, and a coo coo there, Here a coo , there a coo , Everywhere coo coo ! This bird eats the berries, Some are bitter, some are sweet. Fluttering here, fluttering there, Restless in its endless search. Old Īśvara had a farm, And on this farm He had a tree, And on this tree there sat a jīva, With a glub glub here, and a glub glub there , Here a glub, there a glub , Everywhere glub glub ! The jīva whines in sorrow, The jīva whines in fear. Forgetting its true nature, It suffers birth after birth. Old Īśvara had a farm, And on this farm He had a tree, And on this tree the jīva met the Guru, And the jīva turned into a bhakta. She asks, “Give me this, give me that,” She prays in sorrow and distress. She makes her bargains and deals Slowly c...

Opening the Inner Temple of Knowledge

Opening the Inner Temple of Knowledge The rain falls at the Bay, yet no single drop claims authorship. Clouds gather -dense and dark, but none declares, “I give.” Oceans rise as vapor, trees breathe out their offering, sunlight fuels the cycle— and yet none stands apart as the doer Where does money truly flow from? From the labor of the body? From the power of thought? From the ego that claims ownership? Who is the giver? Who is the receiver? The body moves, the mind conceives, the ego asserts— while I simply witness. Everything resolves in Me- There is no separate giver, no separate receiver all arise as one, within one, from one. When everything arises from one indivisible source, the giver and receiver dissolve; Action happens, without an actor Aim for Seva continues , the window of opportunity lights up from within, the door of the inner temple opens to the truth of knowledge.

Tiger’s Nest Monastery Hike — An Adventurous Awakening Journey Within

Tiger’s Nest Monastery Hike — An Adventurous Awakening Journey Within Paro Taktsang , famously known as the Tiger’s Nest Monastery , is one of Bhutan’s most sacred and breathtaking places — perched on a cliffside at an altitude of around 3,100 meters (10,200 feet) in Paro, Bhutan. It’s not just a hike; it’s a pilgrimage. We began our hike from the base around 7 AM. Wooden walking sticks rented from locals in hand, Strava app turned on, and spirits eager, we followed our guide, Kinzan, who kindly guided us along. We took a “before hike” photo — smiling, unaware of the lessons waiting ahead. The winding path stretched ahead, shaded by tall trees, strings of prayer flags, with hundreds of steps ascending through the forest. Around us, travelers from all over the world climbing along—each group led by its own local guide. Step by step, one foot before the other, the hike began. With every upward step, doubts crept in — Will I make it? The walking stick ...

Atmānanda- Laharī

Search This Blog