Keep your eyes on the stars, and your feet on the ground.
—theodore roosevelt
Taking Root for Growth:
Staying Grounded on the Journey
In ancient times, yogis and yoginis (spiritual seekers) retreated from the world to live alone with their spiritual practices. The Indian ashram offered an easy place to be at peace with few cares, and I so wanted to follow their example and stay there for a long time. But modern yoginis don’t have that luxury. We’re called to be in the world, remain centered, and stay grounded. But after India’s deep spirituality, the return to the French Riviera provided an amplified jolt.
No two worlds contrast more than India and France. In India, women cover themselves with yards of elegant silk fabric that make up their saris, while up and down the coast from Nice to St. Tropez, bare-breasted women sunbathed on beaches and expensive, white ship decks. The sun beat down by day and techno music beat out from the port bars and clubs by night. After long Indian days of silence, I wanted to hide in the cool, sheltered space of my French Riviera apartment. From where I stood with the eyes of India, Antibes’ streets looked filthy from lack of rain, too much greed, and excessive desires for material things. Of course, little had changed here; the transformation instead took place in me.
When I dared to venture outdoors on the port one late afternoon for a walk in that less-peopled interlude between the afternoon’s packed beaches and the sortie of night creatures, I ran into trouble. I’d felt fragile, broken open, and raw since the return, and I avoided seeing friends. I slipped outdoors during the quiet times when I’d be least likely to encounter anyone. With the scent of Indian jasmine still filling my nostrils and visions of India’s giant butterflies still in my sights, I walked past the expensive yachts in a daze. The journey had taken me further and further inward, away from all that had seemed so real and important before, into a realm where the inner world started to seem more real and alive than the outer one. I floated above the earth and didn’t really want to come fully back into my body.
But to anyone looking from the outside in, I appeared the same. I’d not spoken much of the trip to friends. When Adrian, a hot-headed American, drove up beside me in a brand-new convertible Mercedes sports car, unaware of my recent travels and transformation, I knew it signaled trouble. He appeared so proud of his new acquisition, and I felt happy for him. “Hello,” I said and smiled. Still dazed and dizzy from the return to high-speed civilization, I walked on. Adrian drove beside me at a slow pace. “Hey, how’s it goin’?” he said. “Good,” I said but felt transparent, fragile, and as though I was floating a foot above the ground. After the Indian experiences I felt as if the shell around my heart had broken open even wider than at Piccadilly Circus. With so many barriers stripped away, I wanted to stay up in the clouds and not deal with the everyday stuff. “All’s fine,” I said. I continued to walk in my ashram daze.
In the ashram, the day before I left, a strange, inexplicable event occurred. As I sat on the temple floor in Bangalore, the holy man walked among us. The open-air temple held a small crowd, and an enormous statue of a blue-skinned Krishna perched at the back. I held my hands at my heart and savored the last moments in this blissful territory and dreaded the return home. How would I ever reconnect with this peace and bliss back at home in my portside apartment? “This is just a taste of peace,” the teacher said. “But real peace and bliss are within you. You don’t need to come here to find it. Take it with you wherever you go. It is your birthright and your true nature.”
His words referred to the sacred space within, to my secret garden. But it seemed impossible to cultivate it so the peace and joy would remain constantly well rooted. In deep concentration I watched the teacher’s head as he walked among the crowd. In an instant, a flash of brilliant white light came rushing out and permeated me. I sat stunned on the thin cushion. When he left the temple, the door where he exited flew open as if by magic and he disappeared, but the effects of the ethereal light remained. I sat practically paralyzed on the floor, unaware if anyone else had experienced it.
The temple workers began to sweep away debris and urge stragglers out. I was the last one there and struggled to stand. I wobbled away, still feeling the stunning power of something that I could not and still cannot explain. Was this a flash of grace? I weaved my way across the chaotic, dangerous Bangalore street, between the three-wheeled rickshaw taxis and the more dangerous four-wheeled ones, and sprawled blissfully on the bed at the hotel. I never, ever wanted to leave. I loved India. I loved its spiritual light. I loved my teacher. I loved love.
But life goes on, and I ended up on the port with Adrian beside me expecting a compliment on his new car to bolster his ego or else he might attack. I floated slowly and felt love for him, yet I couldn’t come out of the quiet, dazed place and speak. But he insisted. I felt him demand a compliment on his car as he drove along at a walking pace beside me. But his car just didn’t seem very important compared to the bliss of being in my secret garden. When I remained in the reverie among the blossoms of my growing inner garden with a peaceful smile, he couldn’t take anymore.
“Well f … you!” he yelled. His tires squealed as he sped away. To my surprise I did not react. The whole business left me totally unaffected. That’s when I knew that a profound change had occurred. When other challenges and potentials for conflict arose, the same thing happened. I remained calm, quiet, and unaffected while those around reacted as they wanted. Before India I might have returned the anger and hurtful words. But this time my heart remained still and unruffled.
The spiritual sustenance from India acted like sun falling on seeds ready to take root. It gave a spurt of growth to my inner garden of peace, which now needed some protection. The teacher said that peace and bliss is everywhere, and India gave me a glimpse of this reality. Now it was up to me to cultivate my inner terrain until those seeds matured. During this delicate time it meant putting up temporary walls of protection and allowing only a few like-minded people to share my experiences.
As in any natural garden, the first plantings require special care and attention. Conditions must be right for growth to take place; the garden needs proper rainfall, temperate weather, good soil, and plenty of light. In this garden of the soul I carefully cultivated that deeper connection with my Self. In daily life this translates into finding spiritual-minded company, cultivating deep friendship with oneself, reading sacred texts, and spending time in nature and other sacred places. I no longer chased after money, designer clothes, or luxury restaurants. Instead the inner garden became my priority.
Another dream arrived to mark the shift and draw attention to the company I kept:
I am with two friends in rising waters. We are on what once was expensive Riviera real estate, but it’s mostly underwater now. We swim toward a mountain peak to escape from the flood. A woman who feels proud of her big house and beautiful possessions and a man consumed with self-centeredness call out to me. “Save me!” they yell loudly and flounder in the water. I swim ahead, rapidly approaching the mountain, but turn to look back and assess the situation. I realize if I try to save them I will drown, too. I swim on ahead and leave them behind.
Both friends in the dream represented aspects of myself I needed to leave behind; they represented the quest for material things, feelings of disdain for others, and selfish desires. I could not bring these companions along on my journey to oneness and peace because they thrived on separation and selfishness. Even though these friends functioned as symbols, they also embodied those energies. Living consciously, we see the realities and choices that need to be made. I realized they would not and could not understand or support my changes. We could no longer dance together. Time to move on. But I needed good company and the right environment, and the Riviera couldn’t provide a good place for spiritual growth.
I also struggled with forms of the Divine. I’d picked up a photo of Jesus in India. In my meditations, he stared back at me with dark, liquid eyes and I felt guilty for adopting other teachers as well. Was it wrong to revere more than one teacher? I wondered. And what about the Buddha whom I loved so in tankas and temples? Should I eliminate the small statue of him that I’d picked up on my travels? As if to answer my despair, a new dream arrived to help me reconcile it. Jesus stood before me, arms open, smiling. The Buddha and the Indian teacher arrived too. Together, surrounded by light, they merged into one divine light without form. When I awoke, I felt blissful, quiet, and certain that religions and forms are many, but God, Divine Energy, Love, Great Spirit, or whatever you choose to call it, is One.
Soul Friends
Good company fed my soul. When I befriended people who also shared a spiritual journey, I felt uplifted and found sustenance. But when I found myself in the presence of people who cared most about money, cars, and things, and valued these over people, I felt drained and emptied. With some people it seemed they literally sucked the life out of me. But in a crowd of creative, spiritual-minded people, I felt mostly energized and supported, not criticized. Who we keep company with will make or break us on the spiritual journey. And in my experience, it’s sometimes better to be alone and practice in solitude if you can’t find a supportive spiritual group.
Amid these deep changes and transitions on the journey into the secret garden, many friends could not venture very far with me. Those who wanted me to stay the same felt threatened by the changes. But I couldn’t stay there just at the entrance to the garden. I needed to continue onward and circle toward the center. A friend who considered entering into her secret garden recently asked me, “Can you hold on to colleagues and friends when you change?”
“Maybe and maybe not,” I said. She wanted to head in a new direction, but sensed this meant taking risks. “You or they may make other choices. We don’t all grow and blossom at the same time,” I added. I thought of friends from Alcoholics Anonymous who struggled with change. When some of them became sober, their partners protested, preferring the weak, addicted, sick person to the one who healed and became strong. The same happens with spiritual growth and healing. Some friends and family will feel safer to see us with our weaknesses and addictions and aim to maintain us in this place rather than support our growth and encourage us to expand and change.
Change threatens many people. Some may leave us as we grow, or we may leave them behind. Cultivating non-
attachment helps. Love the moment and the people and things in the moment. Respect and appreciate them. But don’t be attached to them. If they go—as all things will eventually—then that is the way of life. The Hindu goddess Kali teaches this. Her name derives from the Sanskrit word kala, which means “time.” Time will consume all material forms eventually. Enjoy the present and let go of what no longer serves your spirit’s life. This is easy to say, but the practice requires deep commitment to your soul-Self.
Staying Grounded
When going through big spiritual changes, it’s sometimes easy to move into those elevated and rarefied spheres of the spirit and allow the soul-Self to stay “up there,” but it’s vital to stay grounded, in the physical body. We can keep our head in the clouds and our hearts connected to the Divine, but the feet need to be firmly planted on the earth. Some ways to keep that connection include walking barefooted on the ground and wearing the color red, a root-chakra color associated with physical vitality. Get your hands in the earth and plant something, weed the lawn or garden if you have one, and walk on grass. For a grounding visualization, imagine your feet rooted into the ground and reaching down into it like a huge tree. Feel the earth’s energies move through your body to bring in vitality, nutrients, and energy.
Symbolic Relationships
Life is reflection, reaction, and “resound.” The people and events outside of us are often reflections of things taking place within us. They can give clues to understanding our inner workings. I cringed when a pompous friend showed up strutting around in a dream. At first I suspected my mind was playing out nightmares. Then I realized this spiritual truth that life is like a mirror. My friend merely reflected back an image of my own deep insecurity. Once I realized this, I worked on my insecurity and let it go by building spiritual self-confidence. Each time she showed up again in my dreams, I knew I needed to work more to overcome this inner obstacle.
The two friends who drowned in the dream as I swam to the mountain peak also symbolized characteristics that I chose to leave behind. They included the quest for material things, a sense of superiority, and a pursuit of self-serving desires. I perceived that those characteristics drove their actions. Other people who showed up in both my dream and waking life reflected strengths and qualities. For example, the appearance of the U.S. president in my dream life referred to the executive, the part that takes action. Different actors I embrace or “get in bed with” in dreams usually represent a facet of charm, humor, or talent that I seek to acquire.
If you’d like, take a moment to list your friends, enemies, and important people around you. Beside their names write the key qualities and/or weaknesses that they represent for you. Which of these qualities would you choose to develop more? What weaknesses would you like to leave behind? During the next days and weeks, keep these in mind and consciously work to develop the qualities and diminish the weaknesses.