August 30, 2008
Let Consciousness Be Your Teacher

"People say, 'in this world there needs to be peace.' I say, 'No, in your world there needs to be peace. It is within you.' Do whatever is necessary and find peace in your in your life, and be content. And if you don't find it, I can help." - Prem Rawat

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 02:23 PM | Comments (0)

August 29, 2008
Someone to Call

Does this ever happen to you?

You have some extra time... in a cab...at the airport... or in between appointments. You pull out your cell phone, click on your contact list, and scroll.

You are looking for someone to call.

You know all the names on the list quite well. Some are your best friends. Some are your family. But you don't see the name of anyone you want to call at that particular moment.

You really want to call someone, but their name is not on the list.

You scroll up. You scroll down.

You wonder who it is you really want to call.

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 12:12 AM | Comments (0)

August 27, 2008
The Reward

Well... I just came back from visiting my 93-year old father in Florida. He's one tough man, but he's on his way out -- suffering these days from congestive heart failure, lymphoma cancer, loss of hearing, and increasing kidney problems. We were sitting in his living room, Beijing Olympics turned off, when he turns to me, his arms black, blue, and purple from all the blood tests and says...

"These days it's all about doctors and needles. Where is the reward?"

Father of two, grandfather of five, great grandfather of four, he could not -- at that moment -- find any redeeming grace in his life, any proof that his life was well-lived. He could not identify the "reward" for all his many heroic efforts.

Several times, over the years, I've done my best to bring this topic to the table, in words he might understand, with not a whole lot of success. Now, at the end of his days, we were both sitting there in the stillness, his question echoing in the room:
"Where is the reward?"

One thing I've learned is that answering this question is not easy. Words do not cut it. Nor do books, pep talks, poetry, or procrastination. The answer to my father's question needs to come from within. When I stop and reflect on my dad's question, the answer I get is that the reward people are seeking is the experience of LOVE and GRATITUDE in the present moment.

For some of us, "reward" has come to mean retirement or recognition or financial security or comfort or the promise of heaven. Um... I don't think so... and only have to look into the eyes of my dying father to know that for sure.

And so, dear friends known and unknown, I humbly invite you to reflect on my father's question today: "Where is the reward?"

If you are waiting for it to come, you may want to reconsider your approach. As far as I can tell, the reward is already here and always has been. Indeed, the ultimate reward is being able to recognize and appreciate that the reward we've been seeking is already here.

Each one of us already has it. The inheritance has already been given. No lawyers are needed to help us fill out papers. No notary public is needed to stamp them.

All we need to do is feel it and give thanks.

In terms of eternity, my dad is leaving just a second sooner than the rest of us. Each of us will get our chance. As the Buddha said, "All things made of component parts eventually return to the ONE" -- be it your business, your marriage, your house, or your body.

So, while we're here, let's do everything we can to enjoy that reward. This very moment.

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 09:36 AM | Comments (0)

August 26, 2008
Keep It Simple!

"Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated." - Confucius

When I was in my 20s, I worked at the University of Virginia Medical Center. Initially, I was impressed when I heard the interns and residents spicing their diagnostic conversations with impressive sounding Latin words. It made me feel like I was in the presence of experts -- people in the know -- professionals to whom I could entrust my life should I ever get really sick.

In time, it became clear to me that the Latin name dropping routine was just a game -- a way that insecure medical students could instantly feel better about themselves, somehow justifying all those long nights of studying while, at the same time, raising their perceived value in the eyes of their overwhelmed patients.

It's not just medical students who are enamored of complexity. We all are. Somehow, in our over-caffeinated, multi-tracking, digitally-assisted life, we have come to equate complexity with wisdom.

Complexity is not wisdom. Complexity is complexity. Simplicity is where it's at.

All the savvy people I know have a knack for keeping things simple. They demystify. They speak in the language of the people. They cut to the chase in a way that cuts no one in the process.

My invitation to you today? Keep it simple -- no matter what path you're on. You will feel way better at the end of the day -- and so will all the people around you.

Want to know what Einstein, DaVinci, Tolstoy, and others had to say about the topic? Keep reading...

"Everything should be as simple as possible -- but no simpler." Albert Einstein

"Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication." Leonardo DaVinci

"Our life is frittered away by detail... Simplify, simplify, simplify!" Henry David Thoreau

"Simplicity is the final achievement. After one has played a vast quantity of notes and more notes, it is simplicity that emerges as the crowning reward of art." Fredrich Chopin

"There is no greatness where there is no simplicity." Leo Tolstoy

"Nothing is true, but that which is simple." Goethe

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 08:59 PM | Comments (0)

August 20, 2008
Happy for No Reason

When I was 21, I came within five seconds of drowning in the ocean. As I was going down for the third time, I looked to the shore and realized that this, my last moment, was the most lucid moment of my life.

Everything else was a cartoon. Unreal. Fake. In the state I was in, only one thing was certain. I wanted to live. And in that moment, which felt like my last, something extraordinary took over -- way beyond my exhaustion -- and got me to the shore.

It swam me, until I -- completely out of breath -- could finally stand. And when I did, I fell to my knees and kissed the ground. I cried. I sang whatever children's songs I could remember. I laughed. In that moment of pure exaltation, I had no philosophy, no religion, no politics, no family, no friends, no future, no past. Only the simple joy of being alive.

When I think about my teacher, Maharaji, and the experience he has shown me, it feels much the same.

In such a simple and loving way, he has connected me not only to the will to live, but to the primal force that moves me. As my teacher, he has taught me how to be a student. And as his student, I have learned that it doesn't matter what I know, but who I am. Or more correctly, what I am.

It's what the poets pray to feel, so finally they'd have something genuine to write about. When I feel it -- and I do a lot -- I am happy for no reason at all. Happy like someone on permanent vacation. Completely alive. Content in a way that requires no action to prove itself whole.

Unconditional love it is. No strings attached. First kiss. Second chance. Unexpected snow day for a 10-year old. Home for the holidays. More fun than I've ever had and absolutely nothing is going on. Just the peace that passes all understanding -- even when my hard disk crashes.

Who is Maharaji? I cannot say. All I know is this: When I'm with him, I never want to leave. And when I do, it's like starting over once again -- whatever I once was being left behind like a second skin. I am refreshed, renewed, re-awakened once again.

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 09:28 PM | Comments (1)

August 19, 2008
VIDEO: Introducing Maharaji

Here's a 3 minute introduction to Maharaji and his message. If you want to view the entire 27 minute introduction, click here.

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 08:01 AM | Comments (1)

August 15, 2008
At the Threshold

A few years ago I found myself standing in my closet, madly searching for clean clothes in a last minute attempt to pack before yet another business trip, when I noticed my 4-year old son standing at the entrance. In one hand, he held a small blue wand, in the other -- a plastic bottle of soapy water. "Dada," he said, looking up at me, his eyes wide open, "do you have time to catch my bubbles?"

Time? It stopped. And so did I. At that moment, it suddenly made no difference whether or not I caught my plane -- I could barely catch my breath. The only thing that existed was him and that soulful look of longing in his eyes.

For the next ten minutes, all we did was play -- him blowing bubbles and laughing. Me catching and laughing, too. His need was completely satisfied. His need for connection. His need for love. His need for knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that absolutely everything was perfect just the way it was.

He is 13 now. His bubbles are digital. But his need is still the same. And so is mine -- and yours, I would venture to say. Scratch the surface of our differences, remove the cultural masks, and all of us -- regardless of age, religion, politics, gender, or astrological sign -- are seeking the same thing.

And this "thing" is a feeling -- a feeling of contentment, a feeling of peace, a feeling of deep freedom, fearlessness, and joy. Spiritual practitioners have been attempting to name this feeling for centuries, but ultimately it doesn't matter what it's called.

This sweetness is the place all journeys end. My son's took him across the living room to the threshold of a closet. Yours will take you other places. But no matter where it takes you, one thing is for sure -- what's moving you has moved millions of others since the beginning of time. Yours is an ancient quest. Primal. Tidal. Pure. As basic as breath itself.

For the moment, let's call this driving force "thirst" -- the innate quest each of us has for meaning, love, and fulfillment. Why poets wait beneath a moon for words. What dancers feel before they leap. Why birds fly halfway around the world to the place where they were born.

This thirst is not the same thing as "desire." Desire is wanting what you don't have. Thirst is wanting want you do. Desire assumes the emptiness you feel can be filled by getting -- as if the world was a giant puzzle and all you needed were the pieces. Thirst assumes nothing. It's all about being -- not getting or having.

The good news? You don't have to go to the Himalayas to find what you're looking for. You can start today, wherever you are. The pilgrimage you need to take is actually quite short -- merely the distance between your head and your heart. That's the so-called path.

Your guide on this journey? Thirst. All you need to do is feel it. And if you don't, then at least want to feel it. And if you still don't, then at least want to want to feel it.

Pretty simple, huh?

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 06:56 PM | Comments (1)

August 14, 2008
"The greatest invention in the world is the mind of a child." - Edison

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 04:47 AM | Comments (0)

August 12, 2008
The Jar

A college professor stood before his philosophy class at the start of a new semester. Silently, he picked up a very large jar and filled it with golf balls. Then he asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly, pebbles settling into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students again responded with a resounding "yes."

The professor then produced two beers from under the table and poured them into the jar, filling the empty spaces between the sand. The students laughed.

"Now," said the professor. "I want you to understand that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things -- your family, health, friends, and feeling of well-being. If everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full."

"The pebbles are the other things that matter -- your job, your house, your accomplishments etc. The sand is everything else -- the small stuff."

"If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there's no room left for the golf balls or pebbles. The same holds true for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you'll never have room for the things that are really important to you."

"Pay attention to the things that are essential to your happiness. Spend time with your children. Spend time with your parents. Take your spouse out to dinner. Smell the flowers. Enjoy the beauty of existence. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first -- the things that really matter. The rest is just sand."

One of the students then raised her hand and asked what the beer represented. The professor smiled, "I'm glad you asked."

"The beer shows you that, no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of beers with a friend."

(Many thanks to Jan Buchalter for forwarding this sweet story...)

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 09:45 PM | Comments (0)

August 11, 2008
VIDEO: What Is Maharaji's Role?

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 10:38 PM | Comments (1)

August 10, 2008
The Gift

The gift I bought for you today
is not inside the box.
It's in the opening.

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 02:53 PM | Comments (0)

August 09, 2008
HAFIZ: Tired of Speaking Sweetly

Love wants to reach out and manhandle us,
break all our teacup talk of God.

If you had the courage and
could give the Beloved His choice, some nights,
He would just drag you around the room by your hair,
ripping from your grip all those toys in the world
that bring you no joy.

Love sometimes gets tired of speaking sweetly
and wants to rip to shreds
all your erroneous notions of truth
that make you fight within yourself, dear one,
and with others,
cause the world to weep
on too many fine days.

God wants to manhandle us,
lock us inside a tiny room with Himself
and practice His dropkick.

The Beloved sometimes wants
to do us a great favor:
Hold us upside down
and shake all the nonsense out.

But when we hear
He is in such a "playful drunken mood,"
most everyone I know
quickly packs their bags and hightails it
out of town.

(THE GIFT, Poems by Hafiz, translation by Daniel Ladinsky)

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 02:10 PM | Comments (0)

August 07, 2008
THE BEST INVITATION YOU'LL GET TODAY: Moments with Maharaji

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you've probably noticed that some of the postings describe memorable moments I've had with Maharaji over the years -- interactions that taught me something useful, fascinated me, or further connected me to the joy of life.

If you have received Knowledge, I'm guessing that you've had your own moments with him -- however subtle or dramatic they may have been.

Maybe you've shared these moments and maybe not. If not, I wouldn't be surprised. It's definitely a challenge telling these stories in a way that conveys the power of their meaning to others.

True. But there are moments that can be described -- remembrances that can provide others with a catalyst for exploring the sweetness of the relationship between Maharaji and those who love him.

And so... you are hereby unofficially invited to share one of your own moments with Maharaji for possible publication on this blog. Sound good?

If so, take a few minutes now to review the following guidelines.

SUBMISSION GUIDELINES

1. Write in your own voice -- how you say things.

2. Write for a general audience -- not just people who have received Knowledge.

3. Stay away from words, phrases, or references that would make no sense to the general public.

4. Focus mainly on your story -- less so on your commentary about your story -- though it's fine to include reflections on what your moment with Maharaji meant to you.

5. 1500 word maximum.

6. Be careful not to preach, moralize, or proselytize. Let your story deliver the message.

7. Be conscious of your use of superlatives. Saying that your experience was "incredible" or "amazing" may mean something to you, but it won't necessarily mean anything to the reader. How was it incredible? How was it amazing?

8. Include enough details about the setting of your story to give it dimension. Remember, you're writing a story -- not a treatise, discourse, or sermon.

9. By submitting your story, you are granting me permission to publish it on this blog. If your story is selected for publication, I may end up editing it. If I do, I will send you the edited version for your approval.

Please forward this invitation to anyone you know who may want to submit a "Moments with Maharaji" story for publication on this blog.

Here are some examples of these kinds of stories already on the blog: here and here and there and over there... and this one, too.

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 11:59 PM | Comments (0)

August 05, 2008
Three Questions

Some years ago I attended a 5-day conference, in Miami, with Maharaji and 50 other people.

On the first morning, during his opening remarks, Maharaji explained that he wanted everyone at the conference to feel absolutely free to ask their questions whenever they had one. Made perfect sense. After all, we were there to learn.

The first morning passed in a questionless mode for me. Everything Maharaji said was absolutely clear and I was content simply to sit, listen, and enjoy the feeling of being in the room with him.

The afternoon was a different story.

About an hour after lunch, Maharaji said something that baffled me. No kapish. I had a question. But I also had something else -- and that was the fear of asking.

One part of me -- the respectful part -- thought I'd be interrupting him if I raised my hand. Another part -- the educated part -- thought I should already know the answer. Yet another part (hey! how many parts did I have?) didn't want to be the focus of attention.

My right hand twitched, but hung at my side like a slacker. Then I remembered what Maharaji said the day before: "If you have a question, ask."

I raised my hand and asked.

"That's the stupidest thing I ever heard," he replied.

Ouch!

Now it was official. I was a fool, a moron, a complete idiot -- something I'd always suspected, but now had all the proof I needed.

I could feel myself shrinking, slinking back into my chair.

Maharaji answered my question, but I barely heard a word. My mind was out to lunch, but had no idea where the restaurant was. A hundred over-caffeinated PR guys inside me, hell bent on damage control, did their best to save the day, but their efforts were a joke.

I didn't sleep well that night.

The next morning I took my seat with an extra dose of humility and some last-minute effort to gracefully manage my emotional meltdown from the day before.

Thirty minutes into Maharaji's presentation, he said something that made only partial sense to me. I kind of understood it. I mean, I sort of got what he said, but not really.

I had a question.

No way was I going to ask it. No way was I going to reveal yet another questionable side of my questionable self -- not only to Maharaji, but to 50 of my peers, some of whom, I knew, already had their doubts about me.

But then I remembered what Maharaji had said on Day One. "If you have a question, ask."

I raised my hand.

"That," he replied, "is a really good question."

Hallelujah! I was back in the game -- now hanging ten in my semi-comfortable hotel chair, waiting for Maharaji's response to my now, officially-declared, good question.

I barely heard a word he said -- consumed, as I was, by his acknowledgment of my question being "good." I could see he was talking, but I was suddenly deaf. My mind, once more, was out to lunch. OK, maybe not lunch, but out for a meal. Like... maybe breakfast.. or a light snack.

Day Three came quickly.

I woke, took a shower, practiced Knowledge, drank coffee, ate a bagel, and took my seat.

The morning session was smooth as silk. Maharaji spoke, told some jokes, showed some slides -- me enjoying my new found status as a question-free human being.

The afternoon? Don't ask.

An hour into it, I felt an old familiar feeling coming over me. I wouldn't exactly call it cluelessness, but I was clearly in need of a clue.

I took a breath. I raised my hand. I asked.

Maharaji listened. Then he spoke. His response, this time, was neutral. My question wasn't good. My question wasn't stupid. It was just a question.

Three days. Three questions. Three different responses.

Looking back at this conference with Maharaji, the metaphor that comes to mind is one a friend shared with me some years ago.

"Imagine yourself," she said, "as a sword in a stone. It's stuck and won't come out. You pull to the left. You pull to the right. You pull to the left, again. Back and forth, back and forth you go between the extremes: good and bad, up and down, black and white, rich and poor, this and that. With each movement between the extremes, the sword gets looser and looser until it gets loose enough for you to pull from the stone. That's how it works some times -- all this going back and forth, until we're finally free!"

I'm glad I took Maharaji up on his word and asked my questions. In a curious way, I may have learned more from the act of asking than I did from the answers I received. That's one of the cool things about being in relationship with someone like Maharaji. Every interaction is amplified. Every conversation has the potential to reveal something extraordinary.

I'm glad I didn't play it safe with him. I'm glad I didn't hide behind my simulated mask of understanding. Yes, it's a risk to speak up. But a risk to what? Only that self-serving, legend-in-my-own-mind character more concerned with other's opinions of me than the experience of truth.

Did Maharaji know that the three different ways he answered my questions put me through some changes? I doubt it. But it doesn't really matter.

Maharaji is not a mind reader. He is not a psychic. He is not a therapist. He merely holds up a mirror. What we see -- and what we do after we see what we see -- is completely up to us.

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 09:57 PM | Comments (2)

August 04, 2008
VIDEO: Make Each Day Count

If you had one month to live, what would you talk about if someone asked to interview you? What message would you leave behind? In this touching 8-minute video, Greta Brenman, who passed away on June 18th, shares her feelings about life and the guidance of her teacher, Maharaji. I hope you get a chance to pause for a few moments and consider Greta's words and the sweet feeling behind her words. None of us know how long we have left here. Let's enjoy each day to the fullest -- one breath at a time.

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 09:51 PM | Comments (2)

August 02, 2008
This Thirst

There is an aching deep within my heart
that cannot be explained.
It wakes me in the middle of the night
and write these lines --
a kind of fishing in a great sea I cannot find by day.
This escapade is not the search for something new.
It is not the need to find --
more it is the being moved,
my being pulled by an unseen moon,
how small birds, when days get cold,
make their way across dark skies
to the place where they were born,
how a feather falls to earth
and a child, finding it, looks up,
why dogs pace back and forth before a door
as their master turns for home.

Ah, this restlessness, this thirst, this ache,
this silent undertow inside
that takes me back to the hidden spring
where lions come to drink,
and snakes,
why birds sing when they are all alone
and the long ride home on an empty train
often feels like an arrival.

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 02:50 PM | Comments (1)

Remember this Feeling?

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 10:13 AM | Comments (0)

August 01, 2008
NEWS: Maharaji's Broadcast to One Million People in India, Nepal, and Mauritius: 7/31/08

Thanks to Dagmar Zierer, Cath Carroll, Jan Buchalter, and others for forwarding their recollections and impressions of the Derby, UK broadcast.

On July 31, from The Assembly Room in Derby, England, a broadcast of an event with Maharaji went live to more than one million people in India, Nepal and Mauritius in 4,000 centers and countless other locations.

Having completed his recent European tour of Madrid, Ljubljana, Glasgow, Birmingham, Warsaw, Corleone, Palermo, Gothenberg, Barcelona, Belfast, Berlin, Calpe, Bilbao, Torquay, Hinkley, Leicester and Tel Aviv, Maharaji was responding to an invitation for a broadcast event from people in India -- and beyond -- who hadn't yet seen him this year.

Before a local audience of about 1,200 people, mostly from Derby's Hindi speaking community, Maharaji spoke on a number of topics, including the role of the Master, recognition, and Knowledge.

The broadcast was recorded and will soon be available to Hindi speaking communities.

During his talk, Maharaji noted that when he goes to India later this year, events will be done in a different way -- something even more enjoyable than in the past:

"All I want is for you to experience the joy of Knowledge in your life," he said. "Events are not a social thing. Even if you lived on a desert island and experienced this, I would be happy. These are not just empty words. What I say, I back up. I can take you to a place within."

What follows are a selection of additional excerpts from the Derby broadcast. These excerpts are not verbatim, but are the paraphrased recollections of a few people who attended the event. Enjoy!

"That which can bring light in your darkened life is the Master --
the one who takes you out of unrest and brings you to peace."

"As soon as you get up in the morning, you remember that which preoccupies you -- be it your worries or your problems. If you worship your problems, they will increase. Instead, if you want to worry, worry about remembrance. 'May I have time today so I can practice'. But if you are really going to worship, this can only happen through the heart."

"The coming and going of my breath is my blessing."

"The true Master connects you with the inner feeling. If illusion is your Master, then the opposite happens. The consequences of devotion to the mind is a multitude of reasons which you end up using to justify any action."

"Whatever the Master says, the student should listen. Truth resides in the heart. If you want to be saved from the age of darkness, go within."

"The Master knows what you are looking for. The Master brings light into your darkened life. We have made the mind our made-up guru. Mind will have you look for God or peace everywhere -- except in the place where it is. Our nature is to get stuck in the mind, which promises joy, but never fulfills."

"The Master is the one who doesn't mind reminding you again and again. The Master reminds you to go towards your heart."

"The Master can only be recognized by one thing: not by his face, not by his physical appearance, but by what he gives: Knowledge.
This is a living Knowledge -- not bound by culture or anything at all."

"The Master sees a human being as a human being -- nothing else. The Master gives us Knowledge of the self."

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 01:24 PM | Comments (1)