Editor
The Mona Lisa, the best-known painting in the world: it has held a certain mystery to all who have seen it. The beautiful face is commanding in its beauty and compelling in its atmosphere. A controversy still remains, however, as to whose portrait Leonardo Da Vinci actually painted. A Florentine matron? Who?
Compare the painting with the photograph of Shri Mataji. This photograph provides the answer, if someone only has eyes to see. Shri Mataji’s beauty, gesture and mood all speak of the secret of the Mona Lisa. Da Vinci, a realized soul and genius, has painted the ideal woman, through thoughtless inspiration. The identity of the actual model for the work seems unimportant in comparison with the resemblance of the painting to the photograph.
The painting (completed between 1503 and 1506) has been an object of contemplation and admiration for centuries. The painter’s use of many layers of transparent colour gives a subtle brilliance to a realistic face of a woman. This technique of sfumato (half-light) puts the woman painted seemingly in two worlds: sitting in a chair, in front of a natural, almost primeval landscape.
The photograph of Shri Mataji: the soulful eyes, the part of the hair, the clasped hands, the pose in the chair, even the way the tapestry and the open land beyond give a sense of depth similar to the painting’s landscape! The qualities of pure beauty and intelligence that radiate from the painting in a quietly mystical way say, “Who is She?” And finally we know.
Source: Light of Sahaja Yoga Newsletter
Once as a child I had read a story about some birds. A net was cast and so many doves, they were caught in the net and they discovered that, “We are misled, misguided.” They saw some grains and they were misguided. So how to get out of the net was impossible for them. It was an impossibility. One could not get out. One tried to get out, others got more entangled and he gets even worse.
So what to do? They all said, “Why not we all fly out with the net itself and then with our beaks we’ll cut out this net and we’ll be freed, but first get out from here. Put our energy together, all of us, and let’s fly out.” And that’s what they did. They spread their wings, all of them put together, and took off and off they went and they were freed.
Today’s Sahaja Yoga is that kind of a trick. One person cannot work it out. It is impossible. If one person has to do it, it’s an impossibility…. One has to become a whole group to lift up the society higher, so that you can really get rid of the shackles of this bondage.
Shri Mataji, 1982
Sahaja Yoga is about gaining self-realisation and developing, through meditation, those powers, those perceptions, that knowledge of the spirit, that oneness with Divinity which self-realisation grants. All of us are born with a life force, a seed of God’s love, within us. It is known by its Sanskrit name, Kundalini, and it resides at the base of the spine. This seed, sprouting, can rise up through the energy centres that exist along the spine, eventually piercing the crown of the head and emerging as a cool energy that can be felt.
The realisation of the self is just that – the process of gaining and becoming conscious of the self, the spirit. The spirit, in other words, becomes manifest on the central nervous system. In earlier days this process was a most arduous one requiring long-term sacrifices and dedication. Now, however, it has become possible for us to receive our self-realisation very easily, and very sweetly. This is because Shri Mataji Nirmala Devi, the founder of Sahaja Yoga, discovered in 1970 a simple way of granting the moksha, the enlightenment, the liberation, the rhu, self-realisation – all names for the same thing. If the desire is strong and the circumstances are appropriate, self-realisation, with all its wonder, can be gained.
Self-realisation draws our energy, our attention, into the central path of our being. This implies, of course, that there are other parts of our being that are not so centered. Indian philosophy can help us here, especially since it is concerned with doing, being, living – not, as in the West, where philosophy is concerned with thinking and giving active shape to thought.
Indian philosophy holds that the attention can flow along the raja guna which is the right side, the tama guna which is the left side, or the satwa guna, the central path.
So, let’s consider the right side first. What is it? The right side, in its extreme, can be demanding, aggressive, hard-edged, harsh, sun-bright. It’s about self-promotion. It’s concerned with tomorrow, projecting into the future. And being in the right side can cause tensions, anger, even violence.
And the left side, the tama guna? Again, in the extreme, it is emotional, pulling on memories, moon-lit. It’s about the pain of lost joys; it’s regretful, yearning. It’s all about yesterdays and sorrows. Being in the left side can cause insecurity, depression, opting out.
And between left and right, there’s the centre. The centre is balance, grace. It is gently confident, drawing us into ourselves, reflective. A song that sings of the centre says, “Come, the Mother calls you to go deeper in silence, to find the earth of your beginning; that innocence within you, that innocence unfolding from which flow the rivers of your soul.”
The left and right channels are, of course, part of our being. A very necessary part. They are not all bad. We can have good memories and make good plans. And when we are centred, when we are balanced, the left and right sides play their appropriate roles. However, when aspects of the left or the right start to predominate, start to take us over, then we run into troubles. In the far left, insecurity can turn into depression and even forms of cancer. In the far right, heavy thinking and anger can turn into diabetes or violence. It’s the peace and open-heartedness we can achieve through our self-realisation, granted to us through the grace of Shri Mataji Nirmala Devi, that bring everything into the good balance.
Brian Bell
My first permanent teaching position was in a small country town. Sahaja Yoga techniques had always helped me to deal with challenging children, not just by reducing my stress level, but also by providing tools to gently change even the most difficult pupil. So effective were these tools that I quickly earned the respect of the parents of these challenging children.
One such mother was Kate, a single parent to one of the most challenging children that I had ever met. His name was Timothy and I taught him in kindergarten. Kate and I met on a daily basis as we worked together to try to help poor Timothy adapt to school life. Kate and I became close over the seven years I worked there. She knew about Sahaja Yoga and was open to it. She even offered to mind my baby, Jamahla, for free when I returned to work. In return, I continued to help out with Timothy.
Timothy was a beautiful boy but he had been teased since kindergarten and found learning boring compared with playing boy games outside. As a result, he had learning problems and a fiery temper if rubbed up the wrong way. He was quick to recognize hypocrisy or any kind of trickery. This made his observations on a trip home from Tamworth even more incredible.
Some Sahaja Yogis from Sydney were conducting a tour similar to the Realise Australia tour held this year. They were coming to our hometown and Tamworth, the next major town a couple of hours north. I told Kate about it and that I would be going to Tamworth to put up posters advertising the tour. Kate could immediately see the difficulties involved in doing this with Jamahla, so she offered to come and help me. She had a brother in Tamworth that she rarely saw; so, we agreed to call in and see his family on our return. Timothy adored Jamahla and he was more than happy to help out with postering before seeing his uncle.
While we were in Tamworth there was a severe rain storm. On our way home, we talked about Sahaja Yoga, the coming tour, rain and other things. As we reached the mountains our conversation stopped. We simply enjoyed the drive until Timothy interrupted the silence, “Look! There’s an angel in the sky and it’s looking at us!”
Instead of running off the road I just went silent and cautiously looked up as I waited for Kate to scream or say Timothy was mad. Neither happened. Instead, I saw an angel formed from the clouds. It was huge and we could see every detail of its face. It was a classic cherub with curly hair. It appeared to be lying on its stomach with its head resting on its hands, as it looked down at us. Its beautiful, feathery white wings were there behind its head. The three of us just stared. I don’t remember what, if anything, was said, until Jacob once again interrupted the silence, “Look! It’s flying away.” As it flew away we saw its wings and the back of its head. Even the tips of its toes were visible.
I have no photographic proof of what we saw. It wasn’t safe to stop on that winding road and, to be honest, I was so thoughtless that I didn’t even think of stopping. The proof of its reality is the fact that Timothy saw it first. As I said before, he can see straight through any trickery.
LB
(The names of some people in this story have been changed. Ed.)