You may wonder: "Why would God pay any attention to me? What could I possibly offer to Him that He would accept when the entire cosmos is already His? If even angels and gods cannot see Him, what chance is there for me?" But such self-demeaning and belittling thoughts will get you nowhere. As long as you think this way, you will be unable to earn the grace of God and be fit to serve Him. Give no place to such displays of weakness. You must install God in your heart and say to Him, "Beloved Lord! I know You occupy the entire universe, but You are also here in my heart. With all my power, I will keep You here, firmly established within me. You are, it is true, the greatest of the great; but You are also the smallest of the small. In that minute aspect You reside always in my heart." If you have this firm faith in yourself and a steadfast resolve to fix God unalterably in your heart, you will surely attain Him.
- Sathya Sai Baba
To know where we are going
in this journey through
life, it is sometimes
helpful to know where we
have been. We are all God's
children, but he has placed
each of us in a unique set
of circumstances. The
influences of family,
friends and environment all
leave marks, sometimes
scars, on the psyche. I had
the good fortune to be born
into a family that valued
high morals and sound
ethics. Truthfulness was a
code learned early in life.
But the other side of my
early training was lacking
in some areas. My family
never spoke of God or love
nor was there much joy or
creative expression. These
came later when I discovered
the world beyond my home
environment.
My mother conveyed the
impression that an open
display of affection or the
giving of praise and
reassurance to children
would spoil them. After all,
it's a tough world and we
must be able to deal with
harsh realities. Perhaps it
was the deep hurt she felt
from her own difficult
upbringing, coupled with the
pain of separation from my
father when I was still very
young. After the separation,
as an only child, I was the
focal point of her
attention, and I felt her
deep concern for my
well-being and security. She
did an admirable job in a
time when women, as single
parents, were often shunned
by society. She taught me to
be neat and clean, to hold
my head high and to tell the
truth.
Hard work was another of her
teachings for which I am
grateful. Because of her
German Lutheran ethic, I
worked part-time from the
age of 11. It was sometimes
quite difficult to balance a
baby-sitting or a mother's
helper job with my studies
and school activities. Later
I took on the task of making
all my own clothes, and was
rather good at it.
My mother's sense of
responsibility should have
been somewhat relieved when
she met and married a fine
Greek gentleman, but the
habit of worry was deeply
ingrained in her
personality.
My stepfather, besides
easing our financial
difficulties, opened the way
for some cultural
expressions. We traveled a
little, read books together,
went to museums and talked
of worldly events. Still
there was no spiritual
interest shown by either
parent. But I began to make
my own religious
investigations.
I had gone to various Sunday
schools and churches with
friends, and had always felt
great joy when hymns were
sung and Bible stories were
told. But, much to my
dismay, I found that many of
the "church people" who
attentively listened to
Christian teachings, such as
"Love thy neighbor as
thyself," were practicing
some form of prejudice in
their daily lives.
When I was still quite
young, a relative whom I
trusted made an
uncomplimentary comment
about a group of Catholic
nuns. I was shocked and hurt
by this person's criticism
of the good nuns who gave so
much service to the world.
Becoming aware of hypocrisy
in those I loved was both
confusing and disheartening.
As I grew older and became
aware of the terrible things
that happen in the world, I
began to think that a good
and loving God would never
let crimes and atrocities
happen to innocent people.
My simplistic conclusion, as
a disenchanted teenager, was
that there must not be a
God, and that religious
beliefs must be a form of
escapism for those who could
not face reality.
The years rolled by, and
near the completion of my
education, I met a charming
young man. On July 4, 1952,
we were married in the midst
of much celebrating of the
national holiday. Bob was
then an officer in the
United States Navy. Our
married life centered around
parties and social
gatherings, and all in all
was most agreeable for both
of us, yet there was
something lacking, like one
small missing piece of a
puzzle.
With each new event I
thought, this is the thing
that will make life
complete. Upon Bob's
discharge from the Navy, he
went into his family's
automobile business. By then
we had one beautiful
daughter and two years later
another baby girl, both of
whom brought us great joy.
Before the arrival of our
son, we moved to a larger
home. Bob now had his own
prosperous business and our
family was complete. Who
could expect more? But we
both felt an inner
restlessness.
At that time I had a friend
who always seemed to be calm
and peaceful. When I asked
her to divulge her secret
formula for composure, she
said that she practiced
hatha yoga and that she
would be happy to take me to
meet her teacher. I took to
hatha yoga with great
interest and in a few years
began teaching classes.
During this period, I also
attended classes given by
Indra Devi, who instructed
us in the ancient, classic
postures and later astounded
us with stories of her
spiritual preceptor, Sri
Sathya Sai Baba. Her stories
created a longing within me
to to to exotic India and
see this reputedly amazing
being. The longing became an
obsession. In the later part
of 1973, I convinced my
husband that we should
travel with a group of
Westerners to see Baba at
his ashram near the small
village of Puttaparthi in
South India. Sai Baba had
reportedly performed wonders
such as Christ had done. My
curiosity could not be
assuaged; I had to see for
myself.
My husband was going through
a rather difficult period in
his life and was less than
enthusiastic about taking a
trip to India. Nevertheless,
in February of 1974, off we
went, with about twenty
other curious pilgrims, for
an unforgettable journey.
On the first day in the
ashram, one of our travel
companions came by the room
and told us to get ready for
darshan (being in the
presence of a great
spiritual being). Not
knowing at the time what
darshan was or how to get
ready for it, we had to be
advised : first bathe, then
dress in clean clothing, and
finally, proceed to the
temple area to quietly await
the appearance of Sri Sathya
Sai Baba. All this I did
while still being the
ultimate tourist, not taking
any of it too seriously.
Instead, I was thinking what
a good story all this would
be to share with friends and
yoga students at home.
Much to my surprise, when
Sai Baba did appear and walk
before the crowd, I felt
riveted to the spot and
could not take my eyes from
him. I had seen many
pictures of Sai Baba, but
was not prepared for such a
deeply moving experience.
His natural grace and charm
were beguiling. I forgot all
the discomforts of jet lag
and sitting in the hot sun
wrapped in a sari. Something
about his demeanor made my
cold heart begin to soften;
I felt a surge of joy. For a
long time thereafter, that
joy felt like gentle ocean
waves sweeping over me, then
receding. I wanted to stay
enveloped in that oceanic
feeling, but it was too
elusive. I didn't know then
how fortunate we were, for
Baba had told one of our
group that he would see us
the next day.
We all arrived promptly on
the temple veranda at the
designated hour and were
ushered into a large room.
There were no
embellishments, just a
simple wooden chair on a
platform for Baba. The rest
of us tried to be
comfortable on the cement
floor, and then it happened
again! As Sai Baba entered
the room, all thoughts of
discomfort disappeared, and
the waves of joy took over.
How could his presence cause
such a reaction? He never
sat in a special chair, but
seemed to prefer relaxing on
the edge of the platform,
standing before us or moving
through the group.
Baba gave us a
mini-discourse; and to this
day, I don't remember a word
he said, only the soft
melodic tones of his voice
and a feeling of happiness.
At some point in the talk,
he manifested a ring for a
woman in our group. I was
pleased because one of my
secret wishes had been to
see some miracles. Indeed, I
saw it clearly, as it
appeared right under my
nose. I was collecting
experiences, and that was a
pretty good one. But what
next?
Some days later, as we were
sitting on the veranda
waiting to be called into
Baba's interview room, a
handsome but distressed
Indian family were ushered
into the small inner room.
The father was carrying his
son, who was about 9 years
old; the boy was wearing
white socks which didn't
really conceal his badly
deformed feet. His spindly
legs indicated that he had
never run or played like
other children. I felt a tug
at my heart. I was grateful
for the three healthy
children we had left in the
care of their grandparents
in California.
After some time, the door
swung open; and, wonder of
wonders, the family emerged,
all of them weeping tears of
joy. The young boy was
walking on wobbly legs like
a newborn fawn, his large
brown eyes sparkling. I
didn't even try to control
my own tears.
Baba came out and gave some
final instructions to the
parents; then he turned to
me and asked, "Why are you
crying? Don't cry; it's the
first time he has walked." I
replied through tears,
"That's why I'm crying." He
then gave me a look I have
come to know so well - the
most kind and compassionate
smile I had ever seen - and
he said in the softest of
tones, "I know, I know."
I wanted that moment to last
forever, but in an instant
he had changed his demeanor
and was showing deep concern
for another of his children.
Soon it was our turn to be
alone with Baba. Our first
private interview was an
overwhelming experience. Bob
and I and Sai Baba stood
close together as Baba asked
questions. He addressed me
first, asking simple
questions like, "How many
children do you have?" At
that moment, I was at a loss
for words. He smiled
indulgently and answered the
question himself, saying,
"Three." In the meantime, I
stood mute - unable to
communicate. I must have
appeared more than foolish,
but Baba was kind as he
understands all human
conditions and frailties.
During those few minutes, he
outlined the character -
both the strengths and
weaknesses - of each of our
children. The passing years
have revealed him to be one
hundred percent accurate.
His attention then turned to
Bob, and they spoke of
business matters while Sai
manifested some vibhuti
(holy ash) and stroked Bob's
chest and heart area with
the ash saying, "He is a
good man, a good man." This
clear sign of loving
approval caused Bob to do
something I had never seen
him do before - he burst
into tears and cried like a
helpless child. Sai Baba
said, "Business gives you no
satisfaction, but all that
will change." Bob brightened
at that reassurance.
Swami, as he often refers to
himself, turned again to me
and said, "Be patient. You
need to learn to be
patient." The interview was
over, and I was still mute
as we left. It took a long
time to come back to earth.
It had been the most unusual
experience of my life, but I
still failed to see that Sri
Sathya Sai Baba was a diving
being. I could only perceive
that he was special and that
he invoked higher ideals and
emotions in me than I had
ever known before.
While on the airplane back
to the United States, we
started planning our next
trip to India. Already, we
were being drawn back as if
by some magnetic force. Bob,
in a lighthearted spirit,
began to tease me about
Swami's comments on my being
impatient. Later, we both
had a good laugh at my
narrow viewpoint and
inability to accept
criticism, even though it
had been given so gently by
Baba. I promised myself,
then and there, to work on
the problem of impatience.
Upon returning home, we
resumed out activities, but
somehow our lives had
changed. Bob and I still
cared about our old friends
but found it difficult -
even impossible - to resume
the old round of social
events. Bob dove deeply into
reading everything about
Sathya Sai Baba. I, on the
other hand, had pressured
him to go with me to India
but was left feeling
incomplete and confused by
the experience.
In 1975, we returned to
India, first touring and
then continuing on to attend
a World Conference of Sri
Sathya Sai Organizations and
Baba's 50th birthday. There
had been only one prior
experience in my background
to prepare me for life in an
ashram, and this time it was
more difficult because of
the large crowds that had
gathered for the conference
and birthday celebrations.
Again we received
interviews, and Bob was
given a lovely ring with
Baba's likeness. In fact,
many people were given
"calling cards," as Swami
calls the small gifts like
rings and lockets, which he
manifests.
Seeing the faces of those
who received these items
from Baba's own hand
generated a feeling of great
joy, and I began to long for
one of those talismans. In
fact, I became obsessed. But
the more I wished for
something, the more frequent
were Baba's gifts to others!
In one interview, he
actually gave divine tokens
to ladies in front, in back
and on either side of me! I
must have looked green with
envy, but all I got from
Baba was a mischievous
smile.
He often says, "I give you
what you want, so that you
will want what I have come
to give." But what did that
message have to do with my
desire to have one of his
small gifts? What was to be
learned from this spiritual
stuff anyway? Why did
intense feelings seem to be
tearing me apart?
The following year back
home, I suffered from doubts
and periods of loneliness
and depression. Confusion
mounted, and I wondered if I
truly wanted to give up the
social round, the
conspicuous consumption and
self-indulgence. But those
shallow activities no longer
offered pleasure, nor did
anything else. I was on an
emotional roller coaster.
Baba has said, "Sometimes I
must break the heart in
order to enter it." Perhaps
that was what was happening.
Meanwhile, my husband was
drawing closer to Sai Baba.
He insisted that we have
devotional songs (bhajans)
sung in our home and that we
study Swami's teachings. In
spite of mixed emotions at
this time, I was looking
forward to our next trip to
India, for those journeys
had become annual events of
pain and pleasure. The
attraction to Sai Baba was
still impossible to explain.
The next year, we took out
three children and Bob's
mother to India. Baba
showered grace upon all of
them. I felt completely out
of step; I contracted the
flu and remained ill during
the whole journey. At one
point in Bombay, I expressed
my wish to allocate some
worldly possessions to our
children for I felt certain
I would die before returning
home. I must have been
having hallucinations from
the fever, or wallowing in
self-pity. Probably both. It
was quite impossible to eat,
and I became more and more
weak. I scribbled a letter
to Baba on hotel stationery
asking for his help.
Bob hand-carried that letter
to the Dharmakshetra, Baba's
place of residence in
Bombay, where Swami was
scheduled to give a
discourse. Baba walked past
my husband and accepted my
desperate note. All during
his discourse he held that
letter, making graceful hand
gestures and pointing the
envelope toward the
thousands who had assembled
to hear him. All this was
not known to me until later,
but I do remember feeling
better during that time.
The next day, I had
recovered enough to go with
my family to the
Dharmakshetra where Baba
received us. He held my hand
during most of the interview
and seemed concerned about
my health, telling me :
"Eat." The next day, aboard
our plane for the long
flight back to the United
States, my appetite was
insatiable. But even more
important, my heart had
opened a little wider and my
doubts were drifting away;
perhaps this was my
spiritual renaissance.
During our first trip to
India, I had observed an
unusual custom; many
devotees wanting to touch or
even kiss Baba's feet. My
first reaction to this was
negative. On the following
trip, I thought it was fine
for Indians to practice this
custom but not a western
lady. During the third trip,
however, I had great longing
to touch those perfectly
formed, fragrant feet, and I
had asked Baba several times
for padnamaskar, as it is
called; I was told : "Wait,
wait." In the meantime, the
longing grew. Only at the
last moment of our last day
in India did Baba allow me
the privilege. He stepped
forward, pointed to his feet
and said, "Do." I fell to my
knees, knowing in the depths
of my heart that this was
the most profound and sacred
opportunity of my lifetime,
a moment of great magnitude,
the beginning of surrender.
In the following years, Bob
and I journeyed to India to
be near our beloved teacher
once or twice annually.
Occasionally, one or all of
the children accompanied us.
Baba always seemed to bestow
his special grace on the
young and they responded
favorably.
At this point, it has been
nearly sixteen years since I
first heard of Sri Sathya
Sai Baba, and I am actually
horrified to think what life
would be without him. At
best, it would be an endless
stream of empty events and
meaningless activities.
Certainly my life was headed
in that direction before I
knew Swami.
Baba exhorts his followers
to serve. He says, "Service
to humanity is service to
God." My service has taken
the form of editing and
publishing the Sathya Sai
Newsletter. Highly qualified
devotees donate many hours
to create a quarterly
publication devoted to the
phenomenon of Bhagavan Sri
Sathya Sai Baba and his
teachings. Working on the
national "Newsletter" is a
joy as well as an awesome
responsibility because I am
now convinced that Baba is
the Lord incarnate; a
complete avatar with all the
powers, glory and divine
love that this engenders. He
is the embodiment of love,
and has come to re-establish
righteousness in the world.
Only God can do that.
Baba is our greatest
teacher, for there are
lessons in what he does as
well as what he does not do.
For example, I used to
ponder; why, if he is God,
does he allow starvation and
devastating disease to
occur? Baba has said that he
could change all that in an
instant, but in a short
time, the same human
tragedies would return and
the world would be as badly
off as before. Is it
possible, then, that we do
these things to ourselves?
Baba confirms what the
Catholic Church has said for
many years : there is an
abundance of food in the
world but that the
distribution is not
equitable. Surely we can't
blame God for this lack of
concern for our fellow human
beings. We can and do blame
governments for not coming
to the aid of less fortunate
nations. However, Baba would
have us look within our own
hearts and ask what we as
individuals can do to help
our less fortunate brothers
and sisters.
In regard to disease, I used
to wonder why Baba does not
cure at least those who come
to him seeking his help. Now
I understand that he seldom
interferes with the
individual's need to undergo
certain negative
experiences. Even though
such experiences may seem
tragic to us, in another
perception, they could be
considered grace, or the
paying of karmic debts.
Sooner or later we must all
pay our debts. Since God
knows our past, present and
future, why not surrender
everything to him? Then
body, mind and soul are in
his keeping forever more.
The lessons have been
numerous, but my own
experience has confirmed
that concepts must be put
into practice. I was struck,
for example, by the
realization that I must
forgive and even learn to
love, the father who
abandoned me so long ago.
Swami declares that it is
most important to love our
parents, for they have given
us human birth. He continues
by saying, "It is only
through a human birth that
we can realize God." And,
further, there are souls in
heaven waiting for the good
fortune to be born.
In years past, I had been
critical of some people for
their subtle prejudice. Baba
tells us that we have no
right to judge others; often
they are reflecting our own
inner thoughts and feelings.
Perhaps truly learning
tolerance consists of not
being intolerant of the
intolerance of others.
In a recent interview when
asked to define ego, Baba
quickly responded, "It is
ignorance, ignorance."
According to Baba, marriage
provides an opportunity to
eliminate "this greatest
human stumbling block."
I can vouch for this as I
recall the many situations
where Baba has had us face
the realities of married
life. For example, on one of
our trips, Bob and I arrived
at Prashanti in the midst of
a heated disagreement.
Later, Swami scolded both of
us for arguing. On another
occasion, I was rather
annoyed with Bob but kept it
to myself. Swami approached
me during darshan and said,
"Always fighting with
husband."
I responded, "No Swami, not
fighting." He then said,
"Yes - arguing here,"
pointing to his head.
He has told us, "Marriage is
like sandpaper rubbing away
each other's egoism." And
his teaching concerning the
correct attitude in the
relationship is quite
specific : The wife serves
the husband, and the husband
has the task of protecting
and caring for the wife.
Each loves God, that spark
of divinity inherent in the
other.
Indeed, I have learned more
about the roles of husband
and wife from our beloved
Baba than one could learn
from any marriage manual.
I have already mentioned my
desire for a token of
Swami's divinity, one of his
small gifts "manufactured"
from thin air. After several
trips to India and many
interviews, it finally
happened! At the time, I
concluded that my motives
were totally incorrect -
after all, I had seen,
talked with, and been given
sound advice by, the Lord
himself. Who could ask for
more?
The very next interview,
Baba asked me, "What do you
want?" I said, "You, Swami,
you." He smiled indulgently,
like a parent who is about
to reward a small child with
an ice cream cone. With a
wave of that beautiful hand,
he presented to me a ring
with the likeness of Shirdi
Sai Baba (his previous
incarnation) in bas-relief.
I was thrilled; it was a
magic moment of sheer
delight.
He placed the ring on my
right index finger, which
I've come to feel is very
significant. I must confess
to being afraid at times, to
say"no" because someone
might not approve of me. I
truly think the likeness of
Shirdi Sai Baba has given
courage to my convictions.
Placing the ring on the
right index finger was, I
feel, meant to make me more
assertive, for it is this
finger we use to indicate or
emphasize a point. Swami has
never confirmed this. It is
my own perception; I only
know that something has
helped.
These are but a few of the
lessons and experiences I've
had since consciously coming
into Sai Baba's orbit. I say
"consciously" because I now
feel that he has always been
guiding and protecting me.
His love is so great that he
even watches over those who
do not accept his divinity.
My husband and I often have
sensed his presence in both
home and office, by the
tell-tale fragrance of
jasmine or vibhuti. We will
be busily concentrating on a
task when, suddenly, his
fragrance will occur, giving
rise to an inexpressible
feeling of peace and joy.
Indeed he is with each of us
always and in all ways. To
know him, all we need do is
love God and seek his love
in return. What better way
to spend the rest of this
extraordinary journey?