SO EASY! by Sarvataa Christie
Ganeshpuri, what a place! Now called home, it has hens with waddles, the roosters have, too, of course (but much larger!), the cows have horns and humps and roam free, along with the dogs and cats. And the people! Oh! The people! So friendly, lovely and gracious. The villagers either came to Ganeshpuri for Nityananda , are descendants of those, or are the indigenous jungle people for whom this land has always been home. I am surrounded by Nityananda!
Waves, smiles, namaskars, “hi”s hand to the heart and nods abound from passersby who are working, bicycling, or motorcycling (with sari-ed women riding side saddle!). The villagers love to have their photo taken and especially love to see the photo.
Rosie always greets us with a big “Welcome Home”! My first day, I missed the taxi back to Fire Mountain Ashram. I cried and cried and wanted to go home. My cries were met with a big hug and a call to a “Tuk-Tuk” (motorcycle-rickshaw). We can walk anywhere we want to or need to be, although in the afternoon you probably wouldn’t want to (too much sun)!
After discovering my papaya allergy, Moti separates it out from the other fruit. He also came back the Ashram, where I dropped my room key, found it, and brought it back to me so we could get into our room! From the conversations with the locals and the police (while registering as tourists), to the elderly lady who saved me from the heat by sending me to the park for shade, while I was waiting for Nityananda’s house to open, to the tailor who stayed up all night (this is not India time, not even close!) to make my sari for Ganesha’s Birthday Yajña the next day… and I can go on and on and on… I am taken care of.
The gracious hosts of Fire Mountain Ashram are also wonderful sevites for the Shree Nityananda Education Trust. They have many, many wonderful programs for giving back. I know that this is not the reason for coming all this way; that’s to know my Self. That is everything. But to be so taken care of, and so welcomed, and made to feel at home here, in this place, allows for a haven for “Shakti Fever” while diving deeper into the knowing of the Self.
I am Nityananda. Nityananda is me. Nityananda is Home. Nityananda is everywhere. I am home here. Home is within me wherever I go. Om namo Bhagavate Nityanandaya.
NITYANANDA, by Jyoti Yacobi
The enormous rhythmic sound of bells and drums
The glorious chant of Brahmin priests
It is that time of the morning again
To call Nityananda’s vastness and eternality
Into the beautiful golden murti
The yogurt, milk , honey and water bathe and caress His form
At some point, there are no differences –
Whose hands are washing whom?
Who is the object of such great love and devotion?
Who is the one who adorns this form?
What is the subtle formlessness
That manifests this form?
Then I sense this powerful, enormous energy in my body
Infinity contained within my own form
For an instant, I doubt whether I can hold it
And then – freedom and expansion
Nothing can keep me away from you, Nityananda
Nothing can close the door to my own Self