Self-Help

A little girl from my hometown spills her heart to the United Nations

Mother: “Never mind, dear. You’re too young to understand the difference between heaven and hell.”

Child: “I know the difrinz! Heaven is where you have lots of love and fun, and hell is where everybody just stays serious.”

We get a great variety of small birds here in our corner of the Vienna Woods, but this morning brought an eerie stillness. Just one tiny fellow made his way nervously through the garden, grabbing a quick last meal before the storm hits.

As the ominous wind begins to rise, we’re once again reminded of the delicate balance that exists between us and our perishable environment. Throughout this day, as blasted trees sever human power lines, and roofs are torn from human homes, we can look ahead and worry; or we can look within and change.

My young son mentioned yesterday, how dramatically the world is splitting between the very positive and the very negative. On the one hand, people are religiously killing themselves, children, and even the Earth, as if life no longer has value – and the corrupt just keep getting more selfish and powerful; and on the other hand, universal cooperation, communication and understanding is at a record high. If we could just go a little bit deeper into the vast reservoir of wisdom inside ourselves, the benefits would spill out into this life that we know and love. We give our children presents on religious holidays and birthdays, but do we give them that basic requirement – the obvious – a safe future on an abundant planet?

Climate is a reflection of our collective, inner state. It’s time to tidy up in there.

As mentioned at the beginning, the human heart is a veritable treasure chest of wonderful surprises, still lying buried under our layers of conditionings and projections. When the subtle key rises up the spine to unlock the gate at the top of the head, we start a new, enriched life full of the treasures of joy and spontaneity. Once released from it’s bonds, it will fly you on to beauty undreamed of. . . .

Eight weeks after my fifteenth birthday I swallowed a massive dose of LSD and went temporarily insane. I still sharply recall the feeling of sheer terror when I realized that I was losing my mind. The demons moved in to possess my soul and I was plunged into a sadistic hell; my mind on fire and my heart torn to pieces in my chest – and then weeks of utter emotional darkness. Nine years later, hard drugs and alcohol had almost extinguished what remained of the small, comforting light somewhere inside me, but at one point a motherly hand reached down deep into the vacuum that was my life, and pulled me lovingly up into the fresh air and sunshine. When I see photos of myself as a teenager, I’m surprised to see how young and vulnerable I looked. I had thought that I was grown up and master of my world. How very sad to be so completely lost in the midst of a civilization that is supposed to be advanced.

I come from a broken home – not in the sense of bombs exploding and loved ones killed by war or hunger, like some children; but an almost mundane, commonplace sort of broken home: one cracked by Drunkenness and Divorce. My parents are lovely people; sensitive and kind. But sensitivity has not been a virtue cherished in our society. Escape into intoxication has rendered most of us numb to the terrible norms of our lives – child abuse, mockery, violence and the like.

I’ve been clean for almost twenty-six years now. In this time, I’ve reached peaks of joy and clarity that I didn’t believe were available to normal human beings like myself. When you feel the presence of that person beside you on the bus, or you hurriedly brush past your child or spouse, ask yourself what they might be feeling. Could they be in a desperate state of inner need? And should they require your loving attention, would you have the capacity to quench their burning thirst? It’s up to each of us to attain the beautiful Unlimited in us and share it as unconditionally as possible. It’s time to find out just how amazing we really are.

Hi . . .
This is just a little Christmas greeting – taking an opportunity to wish you well at a special moment in time. For some, this particular moment won’t seem significant, that is, if you find in yourself no particular reason to especially enjoy the birthday of Jesus Christ, possibly because of other religious beliefs or out of disdain for the materialistic attitudes it brings out. Personally, I also respect and enjoy the special days set aside to honor others who deserve our admiration and gratitude: Buddha, Mohammed, Nanak, Moses, Krishna, Lao Tse and the many more who came, in indescribable compassion and wisdom, to guide us on the long road.

But I take this moment to honor the universal child in us – Shri Ganesha and Lord Jesus – with the sincere hope that we may all soon enjoy the unlimited joy and clarity that only a balanced child can know. And I honor universal motherhood. There are many who look forward with dread and insecurity. When I look forward, I look also inward, and I know that there is much to be enjoyed coming our way. That’s not a hunch but a certainty. I wish for you this comforting light, not just at this moment, but for always. It’s growing in our midst, uniting and strengthening us. The road leads to inner freedom. That is the wondrous beginning.

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Have you loved your Heart this day?
Held it like a tender Child,
Beheld pure Innocence at play,
Shared Its laughter, bold yet mild?

Have you turned your eyes within?
Seeing Goodness spread Its wings,
Breathing deep the cool, soft Wind,
Thanking Love for all good things?

Have you felt Her Lotus Hands
Carress the Child who dwells within,
Bathing It in Amrit sweet,
That flows as joy from Love’s Ocean?

Have you loved your Heart this day?
Have you sung Its Song of Bliss?

Take this moment now to pray
That we may all now share in This.

- Edward Saugstad

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Girls are crazy,
They’re always so lazy.
They walk around logs
And hate big bull-frogs.

They think boys are brats
Because they like rats,
And bring home dead snakes,
And make some mistakes.

In school they chatter,
The teacher’s no matter.
They try to look wise,
And watch you like spies.

The older you grow
The more you will know:
Girls are crazy!

- award winning poem by Eddie Saugstad, 1968, age 11/grade 6

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. . . At least, that’s what I thought about the snobby or flirty creatures in my eleventh year. I did grow to respect (some of) them. I remember a couple of instances in my youth when I found that a girl looked up to me as a supportive brother figure. It gave me an unaccustomed dignified feeling inside. I still enjoy similar relationships to this day, and find them a relief and stabilizing factor in a world of promiscuous addiction.

Here’s a nice article by – at the risk of sounding cliche, but meaning it from the heart – a wise sister:

Does male-female friendship exist?
That is one of the questions that preoccupies the pretty heads of the western society in the last centuries. . . .

(By the way, the indignant little girl with the exclamation mark is my wife.)

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I was visiting friends the other day. Their daughter, who I know since babyhood, just graduated from high school. She is now tall and smart, but just as much a free-spirited child as she always was. She has always nurtured her spiritual ascent, meditating regularly to enjoy the daily inner clearing and centering effect that this inbuilt connection, this sahaja yoga, has on her. Her classmates never showed any particular interest in her. But on the last day of classes, she was approached by the other girls who had been shocked to hear that she was not going with them on the graduation field trip. She was moved to tears when they started crying with dismay at the prospect of never seeing her again. They probably didn’t know themselves why they were so overwhelmed with emotion at this loss. The subtle vibrations that emit from such a person, like a comforting, familiar fragrance, sooth the energy centers and channels in others. This is not a theory, but a well documented phenomena which has been occurring with increasing frequency. I remember when another born-realized toddler made friends with an elderly lady on a return flight from India. Leaning against her knees, he sweetly smiled up into her face, radiating joy and thoughtless awareness. Then he played nearby, sometimes involving her in his games. By the end of the journey, the woman was beside herself with mirth. As they wheeled her from the plane, she was heard to exclaim, “I don’t know what has come over me. I feel so good!”

Such is the nature of the higher state we are approaching – a state of boundless benevolence that benefits everyone, regardless of race, age or social class. Its range of influence is limited by only one factor: human free will. A person with an honest and humble desire to attain freedom from blinding conditionings and misleading ambitions – one who feels, or at least hopes, that there is something more to life than what we’ve known so far – is destined to attain this treasure. It’s easy to reach, but sometimes a challenge to maintain in this chaotic world. At work and school we have to engage our brains in mundane, and often frustrating, routine. And the landslides of thoughts that bury our attention don’t vanish of their own accord when we come home to rest*. This key to freedom from random mental chatter is only ours to use when it once rises from its hiding place at the base of the spine to open the highest door at the top of the head. With minimal daily effort of the newly enlightened attention, you can permanently escape the burdens of the past and future, and settle into the playful present. If this is such a universal principal, why don’t we learn it in school and practice it in the workplace, you might justly ask. This knowledge and technique is now being implemented in many such institutions, but you know what they said about the early inventions of radio and television (and the later innovation of Apple digital devices): amazing, but will they ever be accepted into common use? Sometimes we humans stick to the old familiar and try to ignore the improvements we could embrace. May the essential joy and inner peace become the familiar that we get hooked on, leaving behind the dead-weight and noise that holds us down. Absolute freedom is just a breath away.

(*In sleep we can step out of this mental traffic, but the third state, that of meditation, is by far more deeply nurturing and liberating, in a permanent way.)

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The Earth where we live is a very old place.
She has seen many things come and go.
From the left to the right, and right to the left,
The people have moved, fast and slow.

Here is a story about someone who’s left,
And someone who went very right.
And how, when they met, everything for them changed
And they came to the center of Light…

There once was a boy called Billy the Bull
Who walked with his nose in the air.
And when someone tried to show him their love,
He said that, “I really don’t care!”

But deep down inside Billy cared very much
And he wanted to show that he cared;
But when he was small he was hurt and abused,
And now he was angry and scared.

Every time big, bad Billy went out in the world
To find someone small to pick on,
He hid in his heart a big ocean of love,
And wished that the hate was all gone.

One lonely night, as he lay in his bed,
Billy felt he’s the worst in the world.
And as he sat up to shout out his shame,
He saw the small shape of a girl.

“What – who are you?” asked the boy in the dark.
But the little white shape hid and cried,
Till he walked ‘cross the room and sat on the floor
And told her to sit by his side.

There in the dark, on the cold bedroom floor,
Sat the bully and the white fairy.
Billy was trying to stay calm and strong,
But really he found her quite scary.

“You need not fear me”, came her quivering voice,
I’m a soul who has gone from this Earth.
When I was alive I was treated so bad
That I left, for I had little worth.”

And as she moved o’er, as if to fly off,
Billy begged her to stay and cheer up.
“Just because you were hurt, it’s no reason to die.
Why didn’t you fight and bear up?”

“You think it is better to fight like a fool?”
Asked the shimmering shape by his side.
“It is better to run and hide from the world,
Than show off your hate and false pride.”

“What do you mean? Running off is for fools!”
But before he could say any more
The room filled with golden, grand, sunny, warm Light,
And the children were filled with great awe!

Before them, a Boy with an elephant’s head
And the crown and the jewels of a king,
Stood smiling and shining like sun on a stream
With joy and sweet love o’erflowing.

“Take not to heart, all the pain that you’ve lived.
The dark ages of fear are to end.
For, coming to Earth, is the Mother’s sweet Realm.
All the wounds and dark thoughts, She will mend!”

“Little sister, fly up now and wait till you’re called.
A dear family is waiting for you.
You’ll come back, a baby in loving, warm arms
In a world with hearts clear and true!”

“And my brother, you’ve also been lonely too long.
Come with me and I’ll show you the times
That are coming to Earth, when innocence shines,
And all heart-songs, together, will rhyme!”

And up they did fly through great, wondrous dreams,
Till the whole world was laughing with joy.
Then down Billy bounced, into his soft bed,
Where he cuddled his favorite of toys.

When he awoke, with the sun in his eyes,
He looked out to see the new world.
Deep in his heart he saw, for the first time,
New hope shine for each boy and girl.

- Ed Saugstad

God dreamed,
And in Her dreams She saw
The Perfect Form
To reveal Her Love:

In soft
And tender, rosy limbs;
In gentle, curious,
Tickling buds;

In plump
And soothing curves that glow
With generous, happiest
Harmony;

With bright
Caressing, sunny eyes,
And ears to hear
What’s pure and dear;

With tiny,
Shiny lips and tongue
Which taste and sing
And breathe sweetness.

Into
One simplest, gracious Form,
The Best from God
Was humbly born.

And with
Each murmur, smile and wink,
The Mother’s Heart
Did bound and leap!

With each
Fumbling, curious grasp,
The Mother’s Voice
Was heard to laugh!

And when
That Child was sleeping sound,
The Mother’s tears
Of Joy ran down . . .

No flower,
No hill, nor moonlit sea
Can match that deep
Serenity.

Those soft
Eyelids, so calm in sleep,
Do lull to peace
The whole world’s grief,

As, cool
And clear, comes from Above,
That heartfelt Sigh
Of Mother’s Love.

– e. e. saugstad, 1996

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By the way, if today happens to be your birthday here’s a little present for you . . .

(it’s just one mouse click away)

Natural Innocence, like absolute Love, is the very foundation of life. It can’t be destroyed, only clouded over in one’s awareness. There are those who would accuse Innocence of being a limiting state that should be grown out of. In fact, it is of the Essence, and a priceless asset to every living thing. It is the fragrance that makes life worth living. If its light is smothered in us, we lose the vitality, the spark of joy, that fills our life with meaning.

I’ve worked on city streets and seen old children, working in the sex trade, hanging on corners with shriveled skin and hollow eyes, like burnt tree trunks in a once lush forest. There are religious organizations that would have us live in states of guilt and darkness, or of egoistical pride and fiery aggression, and the world seems to be run now by ravenous corporations bent on monetary profit at any sacrifice. Most of the daily bad news that bombards us is the result of, directly or indirectly, the decline of Innocence. But Tagore wrote: “Every child born brings the message that God is not yet discouraged of men.” We’re (still) in luck.

Innocence lives in each of us, and supports us, emanating from our Mooladhara center and our heart. We love to hear a child laugh (if we’re not too stressed); to see a puppy play, or the sun rise on a landscape, and sometimes we miss that certain something that seemed to have died in us when we left childhood. It didn’t die, and it is easily unearthed. There’s a simple experience that can be reached effortlessly by any human being, that allows that essential light to shine powerfully inside of us. It’s not a pay-for formula or a trick of the mind. It’s something built-in and it’s waiting, like a present on your birthday. It’s time to open it.

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One fine morning, down the street,
An elephant I chanced to meet:
“Good day,” I said, and trying to pass
Spoiled my shoes in the dewy grass.

(For he filled the sidewalk, where
He stood without a thought or care.)

“Excuse me sir, I’m late for work!”
I shouted up, a bit berserk.
“If I’m not there by half-passed eight
“I’ll loose my job for being late!”

(But he pretended not to hear
And simply smiled from ear to ear.)

“What’s wrong with elephants these days?!”
I cursed, my liver now ablaze.
“Don’t you watch the stock-exchange?!”
“Time is money! Life is change!”

(He waved his ears and gave a yawn
And nodded to the rising sun.)

“I’ve sweated all my life to be
“Important in the company!
“No elephant will make me stop
“My ardent race to reach the top!”

(With his trunk he picked a rose
And pushed it up against my nose.)

“Listen here you thoughtless brute,
“Perhaps you think you’re being cute,
“But you’d better face the fact:
“You’re holding evolution back!”

At this remark he seemed to grow
And over me, a shadow throw;
A shadow cool and comforting . . .
I wondered what was happening.

Just then I noticed in his eyes
A clear blue depth, like endless skies.
And did, or did I not there see
All life, all hope, all destiny?

Suddenly I seemed to wake
And gave myself a good, strong shake.
“What is . . . where am . . . how did . . .?” said I.
“Where is that god who made me cry?”

(Then wiping tears from both my eyes
I stepped back in great surprise.)

For there before me on the walk
A little child stood looking up.
With head just slightly to one side
He sweetly watched my melting pride.

(I felt embarrassed by his gaze
Which read me like the sun’s pure rays.)

With smile playing on his lips
He quickly turned, and off he skipped.
Was it my heart that, by his whim,
Ran that day along with him?

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That was a long, long time ago.
And though today I’m gray and old
I feel that child within me still.
And gratefully, I always will.

- Edward E. Saugstad, Cambridge, summer of ‘87

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