Moola Mantra

Om Sat Chit Ananda Parabrahma Purushothama Paramatma Sri Bhagavathi Sametha Sri Bhagavathe Namaha This mantra evokes the living God, asking protection and freedom from all sorrow and suffering. It is a prayer that adores the great creator and liberator, who out of love and compassion manifests to protect us, in an earthly form. This Moola mantra has given great peace and joy to people all over the world, who have chanted, or even listened to it. It has the power to transport ones mind to the state of causeless love and limitless joy. The calmness that the mantra can give is to be experienced, not spoken about. Dear reader, here is the key with which any door to spiritual treasure could be opened. A tool which can be used to achieve all desires. A medicine which cures all ills. The nectar that can set man free! All auspiciousness and serenity is yours simply by chanting or listening to this magnificent Moola mantra. Whenever you chant the Moola mantra even without knowing the meaning of it, that itself carries power. But when you know the meaning and chant with that feeling in your heart then the energy would flow million times more powerfully. Therefore it is essential to know the meaning of the Mantra when you use it. The Mantra is like calling a name. Just like when you call a person he comes and makes you feel his presence, the same manner when you chant this mantra, the supreme energy manifests everywhere around you. As the Universe is Omnipresent, the supreme energy can manifest anywhere and any time. It is also very important to know that the invocation with all humility, respect and with great necessity makes the presence stronger. Simplified meaning of the Moola Mantra:  Om - We are calling on the highest energy, of all there is Sat - The formless Chit - Consciousness of the universe Ananda - Pure love, bliss and joy Para brahma - The supreme creator Purushothama - Who has incarnated in human form to help guide mankind Paramatma - Who comes to me in my heart, and becomes my inner voice whenever I ask Sri Bhagavati - The Divine Mother, the power aspect of creation Samé tha - Together within Sri Bhagavaté - The Father of creation which is unchangeable and permanent Namaha - I thank you and acknowledge this presence in my life. I ask for your guidance at all times (the above simplified version supplied by Felicity Barrington, Canada. http://www.omoneness.com/moolamantra.html) Om Shanti Shanti Shanti

♡ Eileen ♡

We visited Eileen for three days at the weekend. Grace shone through her very frail frame. Light from her loving eyes was serene, yet questioning. Her physical struggle was nearing an end.

I felt far from peaceful just prior to and after these recent visits. Eileen expressed frustration that she was still living. “What good am I, like this ? ” she asked. Still an inspiration, I thought.

Agitation at the imminent loss of Eileen was causing my sadness to be expressed in odd ways. Maybe due to tiredness, and perhaps frustration at my inability to communicate in words. Holding all the memories of times shared together, I felt impatience at banal, everyday events that jerk us away from such unique and intimate moments. The dreaded contrast that demands we snap back into a fast, noiseful world, where to “rest in peace” is generally only acceptable in a cemetery.

To be together and trust in silent, energetic communication is most beautiful. A stolen ten minutes alone with Eileen, when Nick went to the car on Sunday (saying “come on, we’re late !”), was to be our final sacred exchange together. I thank God for ten minutes.

That morning from Eileen’s garden I’d picked a posy of blush white rhododendron blooms, pink pieris leaves and white lilac blossom. She was delighted to see them. After inviting me to stay while she ate a little raspberry yoghurt, Eileen laid her head in my hand and sighed, a weary letting-go. 

Greatest gentleness, and so much Love, from and for this person, who was more than a friend, and more than a “foster” Mum to me for 30 years …

Her guidance through times of trauma in my own family was rock-steady. Eileen has been the sweetest, wisest person I know. We’ve laughed, sung old songs, shared recipes, favourite poems, fashion tips, home and gardening secrets. She met Uncle Bill, and they exchanged warm, mutual respect in his ancient and bachelor-farmer kitchen. Her peaceful, practical nature was a calming influence on me.

Of course I’ve known Eileen as long as I’ve known Nick. Eileen quietly helped me survive the trauma of my Dad’s suicide in 1986, and the aftermath, when my own Mum was debilitated by grief and shock. We shared talks on spirituality. I went with her to church, my first experience of the Catholic faith.

I recall a time when our couple-friends all seemed to be marrying and having babies. Nick had said when we first met, that marriage and children were NOT what he wanted. I felt free to talk with Eileen about this once when we were alone, driving to the cattery with Amy and Chloë. She advised “If that’s what Nicky said, then that’s what he means.”

Eileen was right … naturally. And a quick “No” is way better than a long, drawn out “Maybe ?” But in my family experience, direct truth was rare. Manipulation ruled, sad to say. Perhaps I imagined Nick would change his mind ? Delusion can be delicious … 

The true picture is much bigger than we see. The small or imagined picture is of social conditioning, and for me at that time, pressure from my Mum to have children. This bore the greatest weight on my own thinking. Feelings of being “less than” and bereaved continued for many years. 

Simply, I love Eileen therefore I love Nick. How he and I fare in the years to come is immaterial at this moment. How we’ve fared for 30 years is due in large part, to Eileen. She bore her own bereavement with a tender strength. Her John died 9th March 1991.

It’s my prayer that Eileen’s grace, faith and humour remain, and her heartlight continues to shine in us all.

Om Shanti Shanti Shanti

My first Christmas “without” Caroli

This is a new experience for me, being the first Christmas that I’m alive in this body, but without my big Sister.

A strange mix of feelings ~ spacious, sad, quiet, joyful and contemplative by turns. Nuance of memories, which keep me vigilant for truth and insight, and not sentimental thinking. I could indulge, but …

The space left by Caroli’s absence has opened a new understanding of what a sibling-soul-connection could be ? Hidden jewels of the relationship are now revealed without the (sometimes) terrifying personal circumstances attached.

Family tendencies are dissolving, to allow a quiet return to original ‘me.’  The me before sister, before parents, before home, before school, before personality, before birth.

A sense of ‘beyond’ and a recognition of riches previously unnoticed, are a welcome harvest.

Not forgetting that the last words I heard from Caroli were from a 1957 Goon Show joke She first advised me to put my hat on, as it was February and cold out. And then squeaked: “What is it, Min ?” … “The cat wants to go out” … “What makes you think that, Min ?” … “He’s just put his hat and coat on. Ooooh … “

Caroli’s presence is near ~ tangible. She still points me to things we’d both appreciate ! Her maternal watchfulness of me as her ‘baby Sister’ seems to be ongoing.

There are stings of sharp pain to recall how unaware I was of her suffering, and there’s shame at my shallowness. I feel deep insights into the brutality of wartime ~ her time, our parents’ time ~ keenly.

Without her gentle counsel I can feel vulnerable, and yet her voice is with me if I choose to listen. What an arrogant and wholly natural luxury it is to take for granted our most special people !

Now I move in the world with a new, unfamiliar step. From my heart of hearts I give thanks for the Life of my beautiful Sister, and our shared time together.

Om Shanti Shanti Shanti

Caroli’s Garden

The small garden I’ve planted in memory of, and inspired by my Sister Caroli is blooming beautifully. There’s a little more light since builders (working next door these past two months), removed their scaffolding. The dust has settled, the sun arcs higher in the sky, and plants have flourished thanks to showers and warmth.

A thriving, rooted cutting of Maiden’s Blush (Old China) rose has silver pink petals and delicate, graceful stems, reminding me so much of Caroli’s qualities. A white anemone is a childs’-drawing type of bloom. It has a deep yellow gold centre, ever busy with hoverflies.

At our curly-iron gate is an established Hebe “Great Orme” whose pink-to-white flower spikes are a favourite of local bees. Its trunk and branches are pearly smooth like driftwood, weaving forms of a fairytale illustration.

Many cuttings and seedlings have grown well, transplanted from the very private garden at the back of the house. Passers-by can now enjoy an array of native wildflowers ~ Herb Robert, dog violet, honeysuckle, sweet woodruff and foxglove ~ dancing among the garden plants. All have associated threads stretching to childhood and many directions beyond.

A love of wildlife, nature, stories and folklore fires my passion for plants. The love of Sisters, and love for all our sibling souls has grown this gardenful of heart treasures.

Holding Caroli within my heart involves no effort. I scribble in the unused pages of her notebooks. I file my nails with emery boards she had stowed away. A full tin of Band-Aid, still neatly arrayed in size order, and with the legend: “won’t hurt when removed” is her reminder to take care of and be kind to myself.

This dappled sunlit home~garden plot shines love into my eyes at each passing view. Its inhabitants are quiet, familiar and delightful.

Enhanced by soft brushstrokes of Caroli’s and my favourite angel~hair sky, we appreciate together the abundant details of the day.

Shaolin Warrior Qi Gong

A beautiful and quiet strength in this variation on the popular Eight Pieces of Brocade, or Eight Fine Treasures ~ Ba Duan Jin ~ Qi Gong:

The Great Bell Chant

When times are tough to bear, this can be uplifting:

Broad Field memory, by Russ

Uncle Tim with Jack at Broad Field, Southwaite, Cumbria, 1970

I believe the year was 1970.  The whole trip came rushing back to me when I saw the field.

Carolyn and I left Boston in August and traveled from London to your house touring the SW of England.  Carolyn took us through little areas of thatched roofed cottages. We stopped at a village that an aunt lived when she was a little girl. I got so many beautiful pictures of that village. It was near where I took the picture of Carolyn going up to the wild pony in one of the pictures I sent.

I remember we went through Devonshire, up the coast to the Moors, over to Coventry, finally getting to your home in Lancaster.  That’s when I first met you.  I have so many pictures of that trip.  The scenery was magnificent.

Within a few days after getting to your house, we set off to see Uncle Bill at his farm.  I remember when we arrived he had lots of baked goods from a neighbor waiting for us.  My first impression was how wonderful your Uncles were.  Bill was a little quiet but he opened up with my incessant questions about his farm. I was fascinated with what he and Tim did.

We had Supper that night and Tim counseled me about the the healthful virtues of eating all the fat around the meat I was eating, instead of cutting it out.  We laughed and talked like I had known them for years.  Uncle Bill took us out for a tour of the farm and fields with my camera in tow.  Bill was shy but I got some good pictures of him.  He was very proud with what he did and explained a lot to me.

Our trip to Tim’s sheep came a little later in the evening.  We hopped into the little Ford Cortina I had and drove out to the Roman Roads. Carolyn and Bill were sitting in the back seat with Uncle Tim, Jack and I, the crazy driver in front.

On the way up to the farm from the south Carolyn told me about the Roman roads and how she loved driving fast on them because of the switchbacks. She gave me a quick history lesson about the roads and why they were built that way.

As we started to go to the fields I remember Carolyn egging me on to go faster.  She did this by telling me to speed up while teasing both Bill and Tim about being afraid to die young.  She was also responding to the look of terror on both their faces.  Tim kept telling me to “slow down lad”  I swear I wasn’t going that fast but I did keep going because of the giggle from Carolyn every time we hit a switchback.

We arrived safely and I promised I would drive a lot slower on the trip back. If I didn’t, I swear they would have walked back.

Uncle Bill at the Penrith Auction

Tim let Jack out of the car and I watched fascinated at how he and Tim worked the herd.  I had never seen that in person in my life.  His voice was booming as he gave instructions to Jack. Those images and sounds will never leave my memories. I was so mesmerized I don’t believe I took one picture.  I do remember as Tim was herding the sheep I heard, or more accurately, felt the ground rumbling.  I looked up to see giant Percherons running to the trough to be fed.  What a visual sight.  I also remember helping Bill open sacks of grain and hurrying to get them in the trough before the animals got there.

As the herd was feeding I saw Tim standing by the middle tree in the Google Earth picture you sent me.  As soon as I saw it I remembered it vividly.  The shape of the tree was very unique to me.  I got the same feeling as on that very day when I saw Tim out under it.  I remember grabbing my camera from Carolyn and walking out to Tim.  I asked him if I could take his picture and he nodded, yes.  Jack was just sitting there and did not move. He, along with Tim, was taking in the beauty of all that was around them.  I only needed to get one shot as I knew there was nothing I could do to make it better.

Jack on the granary steps, Barrow Ling, High Hesket, Cumbria

Russ Falzone, March 2011