Rainy Season Stir Crazy!!

The rainy season is so beautiful.  True.  The waterfalls are barrelling down the hillsides, the valley is an intense green – the frogs call – the crickets are in a competition with them to make the loudest sounds.

But then there is the other side of this time of renewal and soaking rains.  The dampness that never leaves.  Clothes that take days to dry and when they are finally in a semblance of ‘dryness’ the distinct smell of mold is a constant companion.


And the emotions that rise – not being able to easily move around without getting wet – brings a sense of frustration with it.. a sense of “will I ever be able to get anything done again?” – “Am I really here for this.. to sit and mark time – to do nothing day in day out?” – this for one such as me who is a great ‘doer’ is a big lesson in patience, in being able to wait for the sun to come out!  Completely out of control.  For how do you control the weather?!

So I resort to all the small things I can control in this world – such as keeping the bathroom floor relatively dry – using the ‘wiper’ which keeps disappearing in the hands of small children who love to ‘wipe’ the concrete floors – that are continually flooded with rain.

Making a cup of Earl Grey tea carefully brought from Australia – folding my clothes and checking that they are not developing that grey film that spells mold in my cupboard. Uh oh – my favourite leather jacket has just gone grey!

And the past days thanking my Kindle and the fact that it has an unread copy of the volumes of Game of Thrones – my Kindle that can be read in the dark – even when the electricity is cut and all else is plunged into darkness.

Patience – that seems to be the most powerful need at this time – and a sense that this too will pass.  The emotions, the frustrations, and the seemingly never ending rains!

See you on the other side!

The time to move…

small bird waiting to move When it is time to move on in your life, it is not always an easy thing to do.  Ties are there, connections are there – a feeling of leaving family behind – especially when the life has been intense and committed and full of heart.  But even in that circumstance there are occasions when it is known that it is the time to move.

And even the time to move may not have a clear destination in front of it.. it may not have a shape yet – a place even – it is at this time just a feeling – a knowing that movement is needed.

picture of skyline in Cambodia

I have done just that and left my dearly beloved Indian family behind me – and flown to Cambodia – a new city – new country, different food, strange sounds, smells and places.  To wait and watch and do just what is arising under my nose for now.

Today I have been here a week – and today I was fortunate to be sent some words from my spiritual Master Osho that resonated so beautifully for me to assist me to simply appreciate where I am and the waiting and watching time:

Osho is talking to his friend Shambhu Babu who asks him:

“What are you going to do? – because I don’t think that you can remain in the university as a professor for long.”

Osho said, “Shambhu Babu, I never plan. If I drop out of this work I hope some other work will be there waiting for me. If God can find work for all kinds of people, animals, trees, I think He will be able to find some kind of work for me too. And if he cannot find any it is his problem, not mine.”

He laughed and said, “Yes, that is perfectly right. Yes, it is His problem if He is there, but the point is: if He is not there, then what?”

Osho said, “I don’t see any problem for me then either. If there is no work I can take a deep breath and say goodbye to existence. It is enough proof that I am not needed. And if I am not needed then I am not going to impose myself on this poor existence.”

I was delighted to read this – my mind had been nagging at me to create goals – to make a plan – to visualise myself in my next place – to do all of the things that my old world of ‘business management’ and ‘creating my own reality’ had taught me.

No – stop – don’t plan – do what is under your nose – the Universe has its own plan for you Shazar – it is simply the time to be available and to watch the signs.  Thank you again Osho for your timely assistance!!

Mother Earth, Water, Life and Death

Last week two trees lost their lives in service to our Mother Earth.

I felt the pain of the trees as they were chopped and hacked to the ground.  I was so angry with the wood cutter – and everyone here yelled at him and told him to stop.  But it was too late for those two trees – their lives finished by the chop of the blunt axe – digging deep into their core – they won’t die today – but they will die – and will no doubt be helped along the path to falling by the bite of another axe when we are not looking.  To be dragged down the hillside and used in the cooking fires of the villagers.

Picture of a hacked tree dying

I wanted to cry – but suddenly there was no point to the tears – only a point to action.  If those trees died and I cried .. what changes?  But if I am spurred to action – then meaning comes from their loss.

In my move to action first I thought to complain to the forestry department – but my Indian friends just laughed at that idea – after all what was our forestry department really going to do?  In their opinion simply nothing as they seem to do all along.

So my next action was to seek out others who were looking to help our land and I found something very interesting.

Picture of the method of recharging borewellBore well recharging.  The lights started to go on.

Water – the life blood of our Mother Earth – water so scarce here in this dry season.. that we have to truck it in every few days to keep our children supplied for all our many needs.
We have two bore wells.. one totally dry and the other produces only a little water each day.  But imagine if we can channel some of the tremendous water run off from the rainy season – if we can recharge or refill the underground aquifer – using nature’s place to store our water – then we can have a plentiful supply all year round.

From that moment things moved very fast and today less than a week later, Sikandar Meeranayak of the Sankalpa Rural Development Society came to speak with us.  We quickly gathered some of the local farmers together and he explained the simple methods they have perfected to make this happen.

Borewell recharge talk

And now as I sat in his talk, I began to see the reason why the trees died.  They had not died in vain – for their lives had triggered a chain of events that will lead to our children being able to grow their garden and to have quality food.  And the chain will not stop there as the farmers in our valley see the difference it makes to our water supply – they too may find the way to recharge the water deep in the earth.

We are going to store our water not in a big tank, but deep in the ground where Mother Earth already has the ‘tanks’ in a perfect place – cool, filtered, clean and bigger than any tank that we can build above ground – no evaporation from the sunshine, just waiting there for us to bring it to the surface – and to replenish it every time the huge and powerful rainy season monsoonal deluge comes.

Picture of Shazar and Sikander looking at the bore
What a simple an beautiful solution.

How grateful am I to the death of the two trees who gave their lives to trigger this discovery.

And in awe of the symmetry that surrounds me when I open my eyes to see.

When Rubbish Makes Me Cry

My tears are close
just below the surface of my being
hovering in the wings
trying to break through
what is this hypersensitivity?
this pain of being that hovers so near?
its triggered by such small things –
the child tossing the plastic over the wall
the dustbin right beside him – does he think this land is a dustbin, does he think at all of our Mother the Earth?

How is it to be able to explain this to children, to the adults of this land, to anyone… how to explain when the words are not there.. the language is not mine?

How to give lessons in mime?

Where to begin in this overwhelm place –
the feeling to run – to leap back to the safety of the sterile lands
but closing my eyes changes nothing
ignoring the pains – pretending they are not there
makes no wave
the ripple never reaches the shore
the Mother cries.

Closing my eyes
not seeing
not hearing
not feeling
no answer

no change
stuck, the boredom washes over me, the nothing in my heart, the loss the heartbreak the raw wound of the Mother trashed – crying under the plastic.

But pulsing deep still there, always deep always in harmony – always in flow – to feel that – to connect – to dive deep – past the pain into the womb of the Mother – to be.

To breathe – to let go – to come into Now…

Thank you ..Girl With flower

the smile of the child restores me
I can be for yet another day.

Singing a Song of Freedom

There is a story I’ve been told.  Its about a giant who lived on the top of the mountains and was very happy and full of freedom.  The little people in the valley were jealous of him.. and schemed and plotted to find a way to trap him.  One day they had a bright idea.. and full of cunning invited him to their village for a ‘celebration’.  The giant really didn’t want to come down form the mountain.. and said ‘Oh no, you go ahead and have your celebration.. I am happy here and don’t want to come to the valley.”  But the little people cried and insisted – and over and over requested the giant to come.  Finally he agreed.. but only for an hour.. then he would go back.

Down he came.. and when he arrived the people were overjoyed and welcomed him and invited him to stay to eat.. and then when he was finally persuaded, they asked him please to help them for a short time in their fields.  He protested, but gave in – feeling a little sorry for them.  Now when the work in the fields was complete they showed him to a huge bed.. quite comfortable – that they had prepared for him.  “You must be tired” they said and invited him to lie down and rest.  “Just till morning .. then you can go.”  The giant gave in once more – but during the night he woke to the sound of hammering and clanging of iron to find that the people wre building a cage around him.  “What are you doing?” he cried.

“Oh we are simply protecting you from the wild animals in the night.. relax, go back to sleep..see here is the door where you can easily go out.”

Each day passed as the one before – the giant being daily persuaded to stay just a little longer..until one day he had forgotten all about his home in the mountain and his freedom.  Every day he toiled in the fields and at night returned to the cage, thinking now that this was his true home.

One day a bird came and sat on his cage and began to sing.  It sang a song of freedom, a song about the mountain tops, about the skies and about flying and dancing on the wind.

The giant was at first annoyed at the sound and asked the bird to go away.  But the bird came each day and sang its song of freedom.  The giant didn’t listen – he continued to live on in his cage, only coming out to work for the villagers.

The bird continued to sing its song.

And then – it stopped coming.  The bird had died – and the giant missed the sound of its song.. but he continued to hear that song in his head.  And suddenly he heard the song.. missing the bird – he began to really understand what that bird had been saying all along.  The song of freedom.  And the giant stretched up one arm.. andthe cage shook and fell apart.. he stretched his other arm.. and the rest of the cage collapsed around him.  And now he stood, realising his freedom.  He was angry with the villagers for their deception – and strode away up the mountain – the song of freedom ringing in his ears forever.

Picture of a bird

It can take many years for the song of freedom to be heard – sometimes it is never heard – but it is the task of the bird to simply keep on singing the song whether it is really heard or not.

Please keep singing your song.

With thanks to Satish Moon who shared this story with me.