It was difficult getting out of bed this morning. Only the second day and already my mind balks at the thought of getting up when it is still dark, cold, and wet outside. As I hit snooze on my alarm, I thought, Maybe I could sleep in today and go again tomorrow? Hmmm...already my ego is making a fuss. No. I tell that part of myself. But you are not in Nepal, this asura (demon) counters. Well, I ask her, Why should I limit the extent of my devotion to puja experiences in Asia? Aren't I trying to live a more integrated life? A life in balance and sacred union regardless of where I am and what my mind tells me is and is not sacred?
While there is no drumming beginning at three a.m. to rock me out my sleep -- and no roosters telling me that light will soon come and it is time to get up, there is the thought of a temple room filled with Durga devotees and the vibratory hum of mantras to Goddess only a short walk away. Being here in Berkeley and waking before dawn to attend worship of Goddess is as much of a pilgrimage as attending those 2000 year old sites abroad.
I had planned to go back to Kathmandu for Dashain this year, but a revelation that came to me after the September lunar eclipse told me I needed to stay home. Earlier this week I had begun to feel sad that I had not made the decision to go, even though all the signs were clear that it was not to be. This morning I am suddenly struck by what seems almost miraculous -- I can attend puja in my neighborhood. And here I can actually chant along with the priestesses, priests, and other devotees. In Nepal I made the rounds to temple after temple, but rarely sat and chanted with the priest for a couple hours every day. This is a different opportunity to experience Her. Staying in my warm cozy bed does not even compare with the fiery Shakti radiance I feel when I chant to the Divine Mother.
While a part of me longs for the familiar pre-dawn sounds and smells of the Durga puja in Kathmandu, I focus my thoughts on what is around me here. As I make my way in the chilly liminal light, I notice that I am not distracted by the environment here and so I can go deeper within. I become more of a witness to Goddess within me, than how She manifests in the world around me. In Nepal, the temples, the dogs, the offerings --everywhere, chai sellers, and prasad vendors, marching musicians, rik shaw drivers-even in the dark the world is abuzz with Shakti. But here in these early twilight hours, She is still quiet, pensive, reflective. I need to know Her stillness in order to do the work of this day.
On this second puja day, we offer harmful, self-defeating, self-negating thoughts that bind us.
Om namascandikayai. We bow to the Goddess who tears apart thought.
Yikes. My thoughts have been on a rather negative course lately. My mind needs some major purification. I have become obsessed with the suffering of my past, too pre-occupied with my fears of the future. Thank Goddess I can offer my negative thoughts to Durga and Kali. But the Work feels rather daunting. I notice how I am attached to some of the stories and perceptions of my self and the world that these thoughts generate....
Rather than allowing myself to freak out by naming and judging all the afflictions in my mind, I decide to chant and allow questions to arise. Be fierce but with compassion. Durga tells me. I can try that out. What are my doubts? When have I lost my concentration and conviction? How have I become lazy in my worship? How have I not honored myself? Who is this demon of self-loathing and shame that creeps in every now and again? How is my rage directed at myself rather than channeled into constructive means of transforming self and the world? What is it that keeps me from manifesting my desires?
It is painful to witness my mind. Shocking to think how easily I stray. How do I stay committed to this path and allow myself to confront and embrace the asuras, the demons that seem to continuously appear within and around me? I struggle with thoughts of how I think my life should be. I worry about other's judgments. At times I fear the repercussions of speaking my truth. Sometimes I speak my truth and am shocked, hurt, even devastated by other's reactions. Being devoted to Her is not always the easiest, most gentle of paths. Still, it is the only path I truly know. It is a path I know I must not resist, but surrender to with an open trusting heart. But my heart feels broken and just too congested right now. It is obvious I have a lot of work to do. My mind starts to feel overwhelmed by my thoughts and the feelings that arise. I call on Chandika. The only thing I can do is chant and pray. Om namaschandikayai. Please tear apart my thoughts, Great Goddess, till only Your luminous wisdom remains.
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