Nov 05

The World Beyond by Sri Chinmoy – Book Review

The World Beyond book cover by Sri Chinmoy
The World Beyond book cover by Sri Chinmoy
The World Beyond by Sri Chinmoy offers insight into death and bereavement informed by Eastern spiritual philosophy and the author’s firsthand wisdom as a spiritual teacher to thousands of seekers around the world.

I had been meaning to write about this recently published compilation of my teacher’s writings on death and consolation in loss ever since I first read it last August. I never imagined that I would turn to such a task in the context of his own death a mere few months later.

The synchronicity of this book’s publication shortly before the author’s own death proves a compelling tool to parse out teachings to help his students cope with mourning the loss of his outer presence in their lives.

This book, however, is compelling under any circumstances and for any audience. It offers a glimpse into death, the afterlife, reincarnation and advice for lessening the sorrow associated with the loss of a loved one.

The book addresses topics such as:

  • Is death the end?
  • Fear of death
  • Suffering
  • What happens in the afterlife
  • How to maintain a connection with departed loved ones
  • Rituals and practices at the time of the funeral and burial
  • How to find consolation and peace when mourning

One particularly moving chapter comprises a letter that Sri Chinmoy sent to a minister friend who had recently lost his son in a car accident. In the letter, he emphasizes that God is the real owner of his son and that God also loves all of his children infinitely more than we do in our limited human capacity. He states, “So we should feel that our dearest one has outwardly left us to perform a special mission at another place.” In this letter, Sri Chinmoy also offers advice for coping with this undeniable sorrow:

Now I wish to tell you, Reverend, how you and your wife can console yourselves and even get inner joy from your outer loss. Please keep around yourselves as many pictures as possible of your beloved son at different times of his life. Please write down your sweetest memories of your beloved son. Then, from time to time, read those memories and become the sweetness, beauty, reality and divinity of your son’s life. While you are trying to grow into the memories, feel that your son is not only with you and in you, but for you.

Sri Chinmoy then continues with advice on two methods for staying in touch with their son inwardly,

with your heart’s cries and your soul’s smiles. Through prayers, we develop our heart’s cries. Through meditations, we develop our soul’s smiles. Either of these two can be applicable to commune with your beloved son or to derive joy from merely thinking about him.

Later in the book, Sri Chinmoy offers more practical advice in the form of a special meditation technique to try if one is visiting someone in the hospital and that person is dying.

You do not have to look at the person, but put your whole concentration on his heart. First try to imagine a circle at his heart, and try to feel that this circle is rotating there like a disc. That means that life-energy is now revolving consciously in the aspiration or in the vessel of the person who is sick. Through your concentration and meditation, you are entering into the heartbeat of that person. When you enter into the heartbeat, then your consciousness and the aspiring or dying consciousness of the other person rotate together. While they are rotating, pray with your whole being to the Supreme who is your Guru and everybody’s Guru, “Let Thy Victory be achieved. Let They Will be done through this particular individual. I want only Your Victory.”

Another important message in the book is his explanation of ancient Eastern wisdom on death itself. The book begins with his mention of the soul and death from the viewpoint of the Bhagavad Gita. From this perspective, the soul is birthless and deathless and the human life is a journey experienced through countless lifetimes coming back down to Earth.

In simple and down-to-earth language, Sri Chinmoy speaks of life and death as different rooms in a house and that we should “recognize death as nothing but a rest. A rest is necessary at the present stage of evolution.” In his chapter called ‘Fear of Death’ Sri Chinmoy patiently explains, “Death is like a stopping place on the road of Eternity and life is the traveller, the eternal traveller. The soul is the guide. When the traveller becomes tired and exhausted, the guide says, ‘Take a rest, for a long or a short time, and then afterwards start your journey again.’ ”

The World Beyond is itself a powerful stopping place for anyone searching for insight into death, the afterlife and coping tools for processing grief from a spiritual perspective. I highly recommend it for a glimpse into the secrets of the “world beyond.” After finishing this moving and comforting compilation on a difficult issue for many, you will find yourself affirming the sentiment expressed by the author:

The song of the birds says that there is no death. The birds fly in the sky. The sky signifies Infinity. If one remains in Infinity, then how can there be any death? So the song of the birds always declares the Immortality of the soul.

Read The World Beyond by Sri Chinmoy and hear the birds sing.

To purchase the book published by Aum Publications, see ordering information at SriChinmoybooks.com.

Oct 20

Final Moment Farewells

Memorial Service for Sri Chinmoy photo by Jowan
Memorial Service for Sri Chinmoy photo by Jowan
Miraculously perhaps, the last 47 years of my life have been overflowing with life and death has been almost a stranger in the circle of my closest family and friends. Granted death is the great equalizer and it has not passed over my doorstep completely. The grief that often comes in its wake, however, has been more unusual than common for me.

More than 20 years ago when I was still in college but transferred from Kalamazoo College (a small liberal arts college in Michigan) out to a large state university on the East Coast, I received the news that one of my Kalamazoo college chums had been killed in a biking accident most unexpectedly and tragically. The night before I received the news I was woken again and again from an attempt to sleep while vacationing in Wellfleet on Cape Cod by a raging wild thunderstorm and a dream in which she came to me but I didn’t realize in the dream that she had died.

Without hesitation I flew back to Michigan for her memorial service held at K College in which a spirit of true celebration and joy prevailed because she was such a beautiful person who cheered the lives of all she encountered. Her short life seemed to embody the truism that she was almost too good for this world and her departure a respite from its baser savages.

After the service was over, I found some quiet meditative space to have a conversation with her – not at her graveside but rather while sitting on a children’s swingset in a nearby park. In the privacy of my heart, I talked out loud knowing that she heard me and spoke my love and goodbyes punctuated by smiles and tears intermingled.

Fast forward to the present and now I have just spent the last ten days sharing a time of mourning for the death my spiritual teacher Sri Chinmoy together with my spiritual family gathered from across the globe. His life is already being memorialized and I particularly like the clip from ABC News “This Week with George Stephanopoulos” as well as NPR’s mention of him on “All Things Considered.” As someone who counted world leaders, Olympic athletes and Grammy award-winning musicians amongst his friends, peers and devotees; tributes are pouring in to places such as his official website SriChinmoy.org.

Now that the wake, memorial service and funeral are behind us, you will find me over on the swingset – metaphorically speaking – having a conversation with him and remembering my final sweet interactions as one of his students from the Rhode Island Centre who regularly attended meditation functions held by him in Queens, New York.

I experienced his blessings and encouragement right up to the last moment. With my birthday a mere 8 days prior to his death, I felt like he was inwardly feeding me waves of joy as I observed it. In New York for meditation centre activities on the weekend before his death, I sent a gratitude flower to his house and wrote a card which saw my thanks expressed much more deeply and flowery in style than usual. Perhaps some part of me knew I was writing my last note to him before his passing.

Gratitude Flower - Photo by Sharani
Gratitude Flower - Photo by Sharani

Traditionally play performances were a highlight of functions with Sri Chinmoy on Saturday nights at Aspiration Ground in Queens. We had just such a function on the Saturday night before his passing although not all the plays prepared went on because he wasn’t feeling well. While sitting in costume ready to perform a play with my centre leader Vijali, one of Sri Chinmoy’s students shared with me that after receiving the flowers I sent to the house, he had asked “Will she be in Vijali’s play tonight?” Our play didn’t end up going on and the part I would have played gives me the chills just to think of it.

I was to play a boss in an office who was in a state of distraction because his wife was quite sick in the hospital in England while he was working afar in India. His co-workers would ask him how he was and he wouldn’t answer or he would just say “Oh put that paper on my desk” when that wasn’t even what the person had just said to him. In that play written by Sri Chinmoy, his subordinate offers to meditate on his wife’s condition and once she recovers and visits his office she identifies this man as someone who appeared before her in the hospital and saved her life. This play is in fact partially autobiographical with Sri Chinmoy writing about his boss at the Indian Consulate from his early days in the U.S. in the 1960′s.

Oh how I wish real life had an ending like the ending of this play! This time the hour has struck and Sri Chinmoy will continue as my teacher as long as I live but no longer as a living spiritual master. Dearest Guru, I am writing this post dedicated to you as a final moment farewell. Can you please accept it as an aswer to your question “Will she be in Vijali’s play?” Yes I will. No matter the circumstance, the show must go on. I will be in the play. I will cherish your guidance in my life inside my heart as I continue to play on the life stage. Your final question of me will spur me ever onward even as right now I stop to tarry at the banks of the sorrow river in mourning.

Related Post: The Best Kind of Beautiful
Candle Photo: Jowan
Gratitude Flower Photo: Sharani

Oct 14

The Tallest Tree – A Giant Among Us Has Died.

Back when I was hunting to buy my first house, my nature and tree-loving inclinations had me secretly hoping for a yard around the house with at least one nice tree. The realtor helping me in this house-finding mission would give me for sale listings in the vicinity of the apartment complex where I lived because I wanted to stay nearby if possible. I used to awaken in the early morning and go out walking carefully viewing the houses and trying to imagine what kind of home I would succeed in buying. One day I studied the latest additions to the MLS listings and saw that a house was listed in my price range only about a mile from my residence. I set out on foot to find this house for sale at such a reasonable price and crossed my fingers and toes that I would like it.

As soon as I located it during that morning’s walk, I instantly liked it from the front and the backyard beckoned. I somewhat boldly walked along the periphery of the property and my heart delighted in seeing a number of trees in a very nice yet not too large backyard. This house with the wonderful trees and yard did end up becoming my new home shortly after that morning peek into its promise.

Now many years later I continue to enjoy the trees in my backyard and whenever I sit under the three trees prominently towards the center of the yard I feel a sense of peace and contentment basking in the shade under their canopy of branches and leaves.

One day a number of years later as my car approached my house from a distance up the street I suddenly was struck by the difference in height of two trees in my backyard which are next to each other. All those years from the ground underneath the trees, they share a sense of sameness in my eyes, even with one being a red maple and the other a green maple.

As if for the first time ever, my eyes were opened to an altogether different viewpoint through the sight of the trees in my backyard from afar as they loomed up over the roof of the house. “Look at how much taller the green maple is than the red,” I exclaimed to myself. That tree on the right is very, very tall – infinitely higher than the one next to it and appears to be one of the highest trees on the entire street. How is it possible that I never noticed before the impressive height of this tree compared to the others? From the ground-level underneath the trees, they seemed precisely the same and I never would have noticed the one’s towering height over the others if I had not viewed them from the crest of the gentle hill a few houses back from mine.

What a lesson this observation hinted at! Depending on the viewpoint, one might apply the same analogy to the world of people instead of the genus of trees. When a great man or woman bends down in humility and self-giving to share the flowers and fruits of the tree with people found at the foot of the tree, we might never realize just how high into the thin altitude of greatness this giant among men and women truly was.

Such is the man Sri Chinmoy , my spiritual teacher for the last 22 years, who to my deep sadness passed away on October 11, 2007 at his home in Queens, New York.
His spiritual philosophy always emphasized the importance of humility and the obstacles inherent in pride and human ego in the quest to find true satisfaction in life. In one poem he writes,

To become spiritually tall, taller, tallest,
We must be always
On our knees.

This poem from a series of poetry by Sri Chinmoy is aptly named in relation to this tallest tree musing since the book’s title/series is Seventy-Seven Thousand Service-Trees, Part 23.

Sri Chinmoy Photo by Kedar Misani
Sri Chinmoy Photo by Kedar Misani

His lifetime of offering and service in so many walks of life glowed with a sheen of greatness that I have never witnessed by any other person alive today. Yet this giant among men also dedicated his every breathing moment to instilling a sense of gratititude, encouragement and support for all he came in contact with. He composed countless songs in honor of friends and guests, wrote at length about all he admired – even in great detail about the diversity of religions and spiritual teachers through the ages in such a manner that you would feel “here is a follower of Christ, here is a follower of Buddha, here is a follower of Krishna” depending on which passage you read from his prolific writings.

I honestly and deeply believe that there was never a moment that he was not trying to see the best in all whom he met and he truly is a teacher whose middle name is encouragement and positive all-forgiving divine love. He coaxed forth potential and promise that I never in my wildest dreams imagined might be waiting dormant within me.

Like a towering tree that sends forth countless seeds and fruits to germinate and sprout in the future, his influence will resonate long after this end of his life at age 76. With thousands of students and well-wishers from across the globe arriving in New York to pay homage to this beloved man who touched countless hearts, I think of the tree in my yard looming high above the others yet sharing a message and perspective of unity and equality when viewed from underneath the bottom branches. I am fully confident that the many centres based upon his teachings will continue to blossom long after his death. I know that my own lfe will continue to bask in the wisdom his life embodied until I too reach my end. Thank you Sri Chinmoy. Thank-you from the bottom of my heart.

Read More Details About Memorials and Tributes to this Great Soul

Sep 13

The Best Kind of Beautiful

Paper lace grace
flutters al fresco
a ticker tape parade
thousand happiness wish
-Sharani (July 2006)

I slowly moved forward in walking meditation, silent, reverent, linked in a seamless circle with others taking darshan from the teacher. With each completion of another time around in our circular passage, a rarefied and angelic feeling of happiness washed over my interior being, deepening with each step. My usual enchantment with beauty found mostly in nature stepped aside as the overwhelming beauty of this breeze of happiness dawning within fed my soul. What kind of fool must I be not to realise it sooner! Happiness is the best kind of beautiful. It feeds our myriad longings and banishes dissatisfaction. Now instead the centrality of abiding satisfaction bubbled forth from within into the bloom of a smile – or to be precise more like a wide and open grin.

Happiness is a complex and elusive wayfarer on my life road. It evaded me when I faced hardships as a child and as I wrestled with feelings of inadequacy. Now these many years later, unless felt as an authentic reality I am usually reticent to paint it on the surface of my life in some kind of superficial nod to its legitimate importance. If it doesn’t honestly dawn from inside up and outward, I shy from hastily donning this garment, however valuable it might be.

Therefore, the solid feeling of happiness that spontaneously graced this walking exercise in meditation struck me with its immensity and tangible power. One thing I know for sure – my meditation teacher Sri Chinmoy offered a very special gift this day with a blessing in the form of kindled happiness. I felt ever so ready to jump up on a soapbox and eagerly declare that happiness is the best kind of beautiful. Not to worry. Maybe my smiling eyes did the talking for me. They can serve as shining testament along with the sweet memory of this experience now imprinted on the tablet of my heart.

My heart’s dawn has come.
Inside my heart
I see only one thing:
The happiness of a God-intoxicated
Beauty-life.
-Sri Chinmoy
Twenty-Seven Thousand Aspiration-Plants, Part 9

Sep 04

Touching on the Tagline – girl on a road

Rainbow on Bike Path - Photo by Sharani
Rainbow on Bike Path - Photo by Sharani

I have given this blog the tagline “girl on a road” and thought a slight word of explanation might be timely while the blog is new. As is true with many of us, you could say that I have been traveling on a road figuratively and literally for some time now. Viewing the horizon of life through this lens came into focus when my meditation teacher Sri Chinmoy offered me the spiritual name “Sharani” which is the literal word for road in Bengali. I surmised that it was not a coincidence that shortly before receiving this name I had written a poem that ended in the stanza:

God for God’s Sake
Mantra breath
No other road
to ignorance death

The figurative aspect of the road travel lies in the context of journeying on a spiritual community or “path” for the last twenty odd years as a student of meditation teacher Sri Chinmoy. I find it fosters unfolding hopes and dreams to become a kinder inhabitant of the planet and a closer friend to God found inside myself and in the world around me.

The literal part lies in the fact that I have also been a girl actually on the road if I stop to ponder some of my far-flung travels and sharing of cultures across the globe. I love to take pictures when on the road and my travel diaries include places such as Singapore, Turkey, England, Bali, Scotland, Malaysia, Paris, Java, Japan, Brazil, Australia, Hawaii and climes closer to home such as Seattle, Chicago, Arizona, Martha’s Vineyard, California, Victoria and Vancouver.

Ferron – called the female Bob Dylan by some and “cowgirl meets Yeats…a thing of beauty” by Rolling Stone – is one of my favorite folksingers and some of the lyrics to her song “Girl on a Road” are calling out to me in this blog post. Just this excerpt alone shows the serious poetry in her lyrics. She is emphatically one of Canada’s crown jewels of folk singing.

I don’t know what it’s like for you but here’s what it’s like for me… I wanted to turn beautiful and serve Eternity and never follow money or love with greasy hands, or move the earth and waters just to make it fit my plans. My eyes would be the harbor, my words the perfect place for a girl on a road…

I did my best to follow the calling of my soul. But, it’s like that first guitar I played…at the center is a hole, at the center is a…longing… that I cannot understand as a girl on a road…

But if music be a boulder, let me carry it a long while. Let it turn into a feather, let it brush against my smile. Let the life be somewhat settled with the life that song has made. Let there be nothing I am longing for in some plan I may have made, in some story quickly written during a long forgotten time as a girl on a road.
Ferron “Girl on a Road” c1994