From Mahamaya to Baba

After the warm embrace of Kamakhya we headed towards Tarapith where we will do the concluding work to fix the energies we have been working with in ourselves (whatever that means?!). Tarapith is the city of Tara; the Goddess of knowledge and compassion among the ten cosmic powers representing different phenomena of the great mother nature. As much as she may represent compassion, there wasn’t really an atmosphere invoking compassion in this town. To begin with, this time the rituals took place in cremation grounds rather than temples. It is quite common in tantric tradition to have spiritual practices in such places which reminds us how thin the line between life and death is and makes us confront our fear of death. There were many weird looking baba’s mostly wearing red, color of Shakti; the feminine energy with huge rasta hairs full of all kinds of beads and appearing half crazy half spooky. In Kamakhya it was common to see baba’s smoking weed in front of the temples as such drugs are also used by some tantrikas. Here alcohol seemed to be the preferred choice of vessel towards communion with divinity! In the midst of all these half-baked people of course one starts questioning again; ‘what the f. am I doing here?!’

Despite all the facade around, it’s obvious that we can transform the space we enter. Our group all in red dhouti’s (a piece of cloth the men wrap around their waists) and saris (that may be more familiar to the reader) somehow created our own sacred temple in a way. Huge yantra drawings Manu prepared were put on the ground and women started decorating these yantras with colored rice. Perfect entertainment for someone like me who is obsessed with bright colors. Gurudji prepared additional yantras on the spot with a mix of colored rice and sand and connected all these yantras to each other with a thread. There were many locals gathering around us wondering what this huge group of foreigners are doing, so he also surrounded our space with rice. As if that border made of rice was an electric fence no one entered our space.

So we started with our practice without even any breakfast until the evening and opened our fast with the food prepared by Gurudji’s guru-sister (means that they shared a guru) Ma. We kept practicing in the same space for two more days from 9 in the morning until 8 in the evening, but somehow it felt like just a couple of hours. After a very strong closure Gurudji gave us the mantras to prepare for the next puja and it was OVER. Some members of the group couldn’t get enough and headed back to Gurudji’s house while others including me were on our way to Rishikesh right that evening.

It still doesn’t feel like it’s over though. According to Gurudji the effects of the puja will last for at least one more month, more purification reactions will come up and then the energy will be fixed. Honestly, I have no clue what the hell happened but I hope eventually we all will process this experience in our own way and see the effects.

Initially I was thinking about a bit of touristy fun heading towards Varanasi or Nepal but Manu told me that most of the puja people would go to Rishikesh to join the satsang[1] of a master called Prem Baba. Why not, let’s see what this famous Prem Baba is about. I heard many times that seekers in Agama who may get tired or challenged of the tough discipline, methodology and other aspects of the teaching end up going to Prem Baba. In Agama there is a methodic approach to tackle problems and blockages in certain levels of consciousness commonly referred to as chakras in order to move them to higher, more refined levels. By moving the energy up you don’t necessarily resolve your problem but you gain a new perspective by stepping out of the state of mind/emotions which created that problem. This way you generate the capacity to evolve in a way. This is a very valuable technology. Some however were looking for another approach and their paths crossed at Prem Baba’s sangha[2]. I heard about him from people whom I resonated with in Agama, but all I really knew was that he is Brazilian and focuses on working with the heart. I am not really a seeker for a Guru; I had many amazingly valuable teachers in life and I continue meeting new ones. I also experienced moments of surrender but I never had the need to look for a master ‘under whose wings I would hide and who would free me from my suffering’.  I mostly followed the flow of encounters. And that’s how I reached this day, the day I met Prem Baba.

                      

After a looooooong but relatively comfortable train ride I was exhausted of carrying my by now 30 kg bag pack, so I just settled for the first semi-decent hostel room that we could find. It is so cheap here that Joceline and I decided to go wild and stay in single rooms for the first time during this trip. The bathroom is common but clean. There are for sure many other options in Rishikesh but we are just weary of moving from one place to another. Besides, in Tarapith we enjoyed a super luxurious hotel room for a ridiculous price, satiated with comfort. At least we are in a very central location, in a cozy setting and very close to the ashram hosting Prem Baba’s satsang.

Without even having a look around Rishikesh I just jumped into my sleeping bag for a chill night and a sleep full of vivid dreams; waking up in a rather grumpy mood. Before I could stop nagging about the bathroom and all, we found ourselves in the hall already. I looked around and immediately got irritated by the neo-hippy characters around in flowery-powery cloths, shawls, long, bushy hairs, a fixed slimy smile on their faces; all the works. While they kept hugging each other I was already questioning why I decided to come here to begin with. However I should put a note here; one shouldn’t assume that only patchouli smelling rainbow community is ruling this particular spiritual realm; there are many strikingly attractive, sparkling people in the hall. I guess there are around 200 people including a part of our puja group. I also have to admit, the hall was super-clean and beautifully arranged. Not to mention your typical free-spirited kids running around. So the atmosphere is full on spiritual in a new-age western style. Then started the bhajan. Not the type of bhajan where some wanna-be-musicians play around with a guitar and a harmonium; a musical feast performed by competent artists. Some join in, most not but no one loses himself and overpowers the beautiful vocals. Well, when the setting is like that what else are you gonna do; I allowed myself to sink into an inner stillness beyond all the doubt and sceptism; just enjoyed the magical music. All of a sudden the group rose up to their feet and Prem Baba entered the hall. A weight was lifted off from my chest and some tears dropped before I knew what was happening. I thought I just got emotional after the long trip, the bhajan but I admitted to myself that I never saw a smile so mesmerizing.

Satsang was in Portuguese although Prem Baba speaks English, but I guess the largely Brazilian crowd is one of the reasons for that. There is consecutive translation, which complicated the process a little. What to do. Prem Baba has a background in psychology; therefore he makes many references to this western science in his teachings and highlights the importance of the transformation of our relation towards our parents as our first heroes and villains in life. Some of my friends mentioned a retreat he offers focusing on this work. I thought about our long talks with my dear friend Vivian. We went very deep into the patterns in our life defined through our relation with our parents and Vivian has been a true mentor to me in that direction. Afterwards I went even deeper and pushed my own buttons big time dwelling upon the existentialist theories of Irvin Yalom and the like. I obsessed about this confrontation with family so much that my mother-issues appeared as the reasons behind many chronic health issues. Thanks to my dear teacher Laura I came to realize that going so deep and trying to confront all the darkness within are just suffocating and one has to go step by step; treat herself gently. In short, some of what Prem Baba was saying at his satsang was familiar to me.

He briefly talked about how we will have to suffer through several confrontations until we finally manage to bow down in front of our parents and be truly grateful for bringing us into this world and showing us many mirrors along the way. He stressed the importance of witnessing all kinds of bitter-sweet emotions without judging, reacting to or identifying with. While valuing the feeling of regret as a sacred teacher for ourselves he invited us to refrain from self-blame which carries a huge portion of hatred. It is worthwhile to contemplate on this distinction.  Another important distinction Baba referred to is the difference between understanding and comprehension on a spiritual path. I can relate to that very well right now as I have no clue what Gurudji was doing; there is no way for me to understand it with my logical mind at this moment but I may be able to comprehend the intense universal energy called Shakti.

Following some discourses on these topics and more the satsang was concluded with another round of Bhajan after two hours. Prem Baba announced that he would accept the first comers and the ones who are leaving that day. I observed how many people started queuing up next to his seat. Despite all my scepticism towards these kind of salutations I also joined the que just to feel his energy up-close. I know from my experience in Agama that if you go close to very strong meditators it may feel like entering a magnetic field. While standing in the que I kept on observing what was happening. When their turn was on people one by one kneeled down in front of him giving a namaste and bowed down to his feet; some gave him flowers, others some cards or envelops. Too much for my standards; so what am I going to do?! Some kids were giving him their drawings and what I noticed was that he was looking at every offering with great attention, not just putting them aside. To some he said a few words to others gave just a greeting with a big warm smile on his face. Then it was my turn. The lights of my mind suddenly went off. I found myself in a moment of fullness where there is no space for any observation, doubt or intention. My heart felt three times bigger suddenly and wanted to come out of my chest so I had to put my hands there to keep it in; not because that is the way to greet! Feeling seen by him, warm by his smile; an ultimate acceptance and peace. I was struck so hard that a big knot from my heart dissolved. Then and there I accepted. Maybe it is not about choosing a guru or a path; rather having a divine inspiration to move on. That is more than enough.

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[1] Literally meaning being in the company of the wise, satsang is a discourse by a Guru

[2] Spiritual community

On the way to my first big Puja: Kamakhya

A beloved old friend stopped by recently before I headed towards another continent yet again. After some desperate attempts to get some words out of me about my many adventures around the tropics he finally gave up and made fun of my inability to tell travel stories. I took a great relief in that! Finally my inner circle started to realize, I am not secretive; just incapable of telling stories! All I end up uttering is ‘ehhhmm, there was a beautiful sea, pine trees, very pretty’. Pathetic really! So I decided to put my stories into writing instead. It is an issue though to write about this specific trip as I am at a puja; a Sanskrit word used for a spiritual ceremony like a pilgrimage. No good can come out of details shared from a puja neither to the teller nor to the reader; so I will stick to our daily experiences and their reflections on me.

On the way to Mumbai I ran into Pema and Rebecca. Pema is an old friend I met first in Sundance and later at a Vipassana retreat. I got to know Rebecca on the island last year. She seemed like a quiet, introvert girl; then I got a chance to watch her dance the Hawaian Hula and was amazed by the mesmerizing, elegant goddess acting through her. I didn’t know that Hula dance is so naïve and feminine at the same time!

We had our first samosas together at the airport and took our flight to Nagpour in the center of India; a bus and a taxi trip later we were in Gurudji’s house. I prepared myself for a quiet, conservative environment with men and women in their separate corners as it is required in a vipassana retreat however where there are Agama people there is a joyful circus. Thanks to some of my fellows from the Agama Teacher Training Course, especially Joceline, I managed to find some refuge. Ironically Joceline was the only person I didn’t have any conversation with during the whole three months of the TTC. During this puja however, she turned out to be my savior. Together we stepped away from the loud and hyper-social into peaceful and reserved. She took me to a nice corner in Gurudji’s house to settle in and the journey was officially on!

I took this trip inspired by my friend and teacher Manu. I thought if this beautiful man turned out to be so angelic after working with these masters, this is the direction I am interested in. Gurudji is a right-hand Tantra master following the guidance of King of Shambala; a sacred realm of enlightened souls. White or right hand tantra can simply be described as a path of awakening going through the force of life, universal energies and powers. In practice it is a highly shamanic path involving working with mantras (sacred sounds) and yantras (sacred geometric forms), meditations on cosmic powers of manifestation called Mahavidya’s, rituals involving several elements. I don’t want to go further with details of this path; need-to-know-basis let’s say. I joined the puja following many long conversations with Manu and also due to my curiosity of right hand tantric practices. Well if I am calling myself a yoga teacher, I should know more about what I am referring to sometimes, right? Besides I haven’t been on a trip with no clear idea about where I will end up. I keep on going to restaurants to eat dishes I’ve tasted before, to stores to buy staff I can put on my shopping list in advance, to destinations I have a clear idea in what kind of setting I would find myself in…Even last year when I decided to spend some months in Thailand on an island that decision may have been radical for some, but for me it was a place I have seen and enjoyed before to study a teaching that I have experienced and deemed fit before. In the current context there is a tiny factor decreasing the surprise element; most of the 101 participants are or were students of Agama. So some of them I even know personally which of course gives a feeling of security. However I want to believe that step by step I am still increasing my tolerance to ambiguity with this choice!

Manu warned us many times in advance that our western minds may be challenged by not only the harshness of the physical conditions but also the chaotic practice. We should expect many physical and emotional purifications and the only way to make it through is to surrender to the process. For the ones who haven’t been on a spiritual journey before; let me tell you that this whole concept of purification is a nasty business! The physical and emotional purification also means equally intense reactions to whatever is happening to our being and you may find yourself in rather dark holes that you weren’t even aware they existed within you.

Saoneer was logistically very challenging for most Europeans but as I had the experience of spending many nights in my own country’s villages, nesting in sleeping bags in cold gyms at youth camps during my college years and camping on the mountains for years I wasn’t really bothered much. For five days we went into a marathon of rituals and long hours of meditation with many mantras. However that part wasn’t so easy. This puja focuses on the root of our being, the Muladhara chakra. Muladhara is the gateway between our body and the nature surrounding us. Therefore our physical wellbeing and strength, our desires, needs, fears and anxieties concerning the material world, our patterns and addictions pumping up our ego are mostly managed by this chakra. Therefore many got seriously ill and/or had to deal with strong emotions and thoughts coming up while stirring the energies at this level of our being. On my third day in Saoneer a very heavy flu took me over. Amplified by breathing constrictions my emotions got so wild I couldn’t sleep anymore and had to turn on my computer and write down all the dark thoughts passing through my mind. In my teenage years where I believe my mind had a lot more clarity and sharpness I used to heal myself by writing. If there was a sleepless night, I would just let the words flow; so I wanted to do the same. I was totally shocked by what came out. I lived the darkest, ugliest, unhappiest, loneliest loser version of myself in those moments. When I read it now I am touched by the sincerity and the purifying effect of those words. In the next days of the puja more dark thoughts and anxiety, especially about money and career popped up, but it all got a lot milder after that night.

Physically and emotionally destroyed I asked myself many times in the middle of a ritual ‘what the f. am I doing here? Did I totally lose it?!’

By the sixth day of the puja we took off for Kamakya. Imagine 101 people and Gurudji’s extended family occupying the small airport of Nagpour! My record in travelling in a group was taking four busses full of AEGEE people from all over Europe to Cappadocia with three other friends and heading to Skopje again in a bus full of youngsters; so limited to road trip. Reminiscing all these beautiful events I keep telling myself how blessed I am for having such an amazing life; feeling so much gratitude for all these adventures I was allowed to experience! And now I add and upgraded travel experience, a plane full of people in one common direction and purpose! We all enjoyed this trip and the fresh air after staying at Gurudji’s place; especially the warm showers in Calcutta. Throughout the whole trip I enjoyed staying in the flow without making any prior arrangement other than buying the flight tickets and it all worked out beautifully.

And Kamakhya! As many other tantric hotspot, this town is also wretched and intense. I’d imagine to witness some divine esthetics and artistic expression but either due do the overpowering of vedantic paths or the negative influence of the magicians following black tantra that’s hardly the experience. However these towns are indeed energetic hotspots and it is hard to miss it. In that sense Kamakhya was truly special and I felt very good in a strange way, although I didn’t recover from my mean flu. According to a myth Shiva gets too comfortable in his deep meditations and neglects his chores of destroying the universe, while His fellow God Brahma keeps on creating and Vishnu keeps on preserving. So his fellows beg the Great Mother; the divine Goddess to send Shiva a consort to keep Him in action through her feminine power. The Mother agrees on one condition; she will take a worldly form of Sati, Shiva’s consort if the men on the world remember and respect her divinity. Shiva and Sati enjoy a great love shaking mountains with their ecstasy. However as the time pass men forget the divine nature of Sati, the feminine and neglect her. When Shiva and Sati were not invited to a gathering of all deities and gods, Sati gets upset and decides to leave her body after entering a state of deep meditation. When Shiva finds her dead body he gets so furious that he tears the sacrificial body into pieces and let’s each piece drop on the earth. Each piece generates earthquakes and tornados wherever it lands. The details of the story changes according to the teller but their common point is Sati’s yoni fell on Kamakhya; therefore this town is considered as the yoni of the Great Mother; the universe. There are smaller and larger temples for different deities; each one of them with a small, dark sanctum sanctorum for the goddess full of incense. Many Bengali’s sacrifice goats for the Great Mother, making the whole scene even more dramatic with real blood running through the gates of the temples. Beyond all these experiences, I left a piece of my heart in the main temple; devoted to the Great Goddess and one of her many faces.

Kamakhya is definitely not a place for a regular tourist to visit, but if you are on the search for a connection with the feminine, the power, the source she can tell you many stories. While listening to them I kept wondering about the stories hiding in the mountains and valleys of Anatolia and my mother country beyond the Caucasus where my roots lie.

Photos: bbtomas.com

Solitude

I don’t have a place in anybody’s life.

This is the dark side of my much beloved solitude.

As many other women subjected to a high culture from their childhood on, I have a slightly longer distance between my inner world and what I project outside. High culture may sound snobbish to the reader and the reader is correct; I am a snob. However this time I use it in its scientific meaning; a culture with highly developed social norms and etiquette. They tend to be broken easily in the chaotic, hedonistic, superficial urban life; as flexibility is not one of the qualities of such a sophisticated set of values. So what I personally end up with is a deep rooted belief system shaped by highly specific norms and qualities which can only survive in their natural habitat, except I wasn’t born in that habitat!

One of the important rules is no unpleasant emotions or extremely pleasant emotions are to be displayed in public. Not because we are psychopaths, on the contrary it is out of respect to the inner worlds of everyone around. Our unpleasant moods or extreme happiness shouldn’t trigger and cause discomfort to others. So it comes from a place of respect and compassion; beautiful…

I mastered it quite well for a long time (except for my outburst of joy or anger in the confines of a much closed circle) but my quest in life brought me to a place where the inner world needs to meet and connect with the outer. The natural disasters as well as the miracles happening in the inside may as well be contained; valid choice. Turns out; it cannot be my path any longer as it is not serving me and creating diseases in my body. My path is about bringing awareness to this circus inside, value it compassionately knowing that it does not define who I am, still allow it to gently pour out of me. The latter is a challenge, still unknown territory. I am trained to be composed, as any other human being I am working my ass off to be the ideal I set for myself. Let me clarify; the ideal doesn’t only mean the achievement of certain, set social goals to be loved, respected and appreciated. It also contains the zillions of personality traits, some of which contradicting the other, however all deemed valuable and stored in the hard-drive called subconscious throughout my life. So in the different corners of my mind there is this me in her ideal form and shape that my programming strives to achieve; me as I managed to master up till now and performs in the social life, parts of me that I am totally unware of and the me who observes this play. There may be a couple of others that I miss out now but you get the picture; pretty crowded in there.

And there are moments when I am right in between the inner and the outer. Not resting peacefully in myself or performing for the outside world but just looking and trying to figure out what is real at that moment. The real, when I started with this writing was finding no place for myself. So I want to look into that. What causes that sentiment? On the surface there are several triggers. It is more difficult to find common points to even have simple conversation about with my family as our worlds seem to grow further and further apart. I feel tired of being the ‘eccentric yogini’ when I meet my old friends; that many things I do seem super interesting and also weird to them. I happened to go through several relationships recently where I felt in the periphery, like a pleasant guest who doesn’t want to overstay; afraid she won’t be welcome anymore should she wish to relax and settle in. While thinking about all this another part of me was screaming ‘bullshit, you have so much love in your life’ but I didn’t want to listen to that part. Yes there is a lot of love in my life. This doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t face the shadow making me feel like I don’t belong. I don’t only want to think that I belong to everyone and everywhere as long as I am rooted in myself; I also yearn for the full comprehension of it. There are many ways leading to such a connection and one is to be able to look into the face of the evil within. That evil may only be a part of me that I manufactured to protect myself from pain and I am grateful for it. Just; it is time to let go.

A few moments in my shadow later I received a message from a friend far away. He was explaining me about a deep connection he had with me during a meditation yesterday, how he truly experienced us both reaching bliss and how he realized that I am an anchor in his life. The controversy hidden in this synchronicity pops up as a naughty little elf in the sky pointing its fingers at me, shouting out loud ‘you silly little idiot’ and laughing.

Does that message erase all the doubts and worries? No. My work on this is too deep to be carried away with one spark. But it does show me the nature of this life; as it is called beautifully in Sanskrit Leela; the divine dance. 

Wound of the Arrow

I have thoughts about him in my mind, more often that I’d like. This state is unsettling. I was even feeling guilty for becoming obsessive. Then I remembered; this is not a coincidence; this is not just a random state. When the mind is so pre-occupied with something (someone) specific better look into it. The more I look into it the more I realize it is not about him that much; but more about a feeling of unfulfillment. I am not getting what I need.

There is something fundamentally wrong about insisting on the way I want to be loved. Not being happy when not getting the attention I’d like. That’s obvious; this is about my expectations and how I feel in control of my life. Nobody has the obligation to fulfill my expectations and being in control of my life is an illusion and a limitation of the mind. However the feeling is there; crystal clear. I am not going to cover it up with some text-book self-suggestions. I feel sad because I am not getting what I need. Not only sad, but also lonely, unworthy and contracted. I feel like a helpless baby. Or a little girl, who wants her father’s attention but he is just busy and she pretends to be OK with that not to further lose his love.

I watched a movie some time ago; about a funny and sweet chef who loses his job and had to start from scratch. While he was struggling to get back on his feet his 10 year old son was pretending to be cool with his father taking him to movies and parks but never really connecting with him. Eventually they ended up having a road trip on a food truck with the son helping his father, the father teaching him how to cook. That was the turning point for them, the father being able to share his gifts with his son. He knew how to do that and more importantly he didn't need to understand what is really going through the mind of a smart and pretentious 10 year old. Simple, direct. This sharing completely changed the dynamics of their relationships, made them a team. I was so sad to realize that my father and I couldn't find our food truck. That made me cry a lot. Then I also remembered his joy and pride the few times we could play volleyball together; a game we both love, enjoy (and kicked ass!) It felt so good to be in the same team with him. I can remember clearly how he opened up to me when we could do something together simply because we both liked it. No sense of obligation, no calculation, no life lessons to learn or teach. That made me smile a lot. I just wished we could have played more. Maybe my shell would be softer; maybe I’d try less to run inside myself and play cool, constantly attempting to be in control; not to show how hurt I am for not getting what I need. Or maybe not.

And I had to laugh really a lot when my beloved Prem Babaji said not to share such inner journeys with others, because that simply makes us a boring person. A very valid reason indeed! There is also the reason of ego games. Who in you wants to share these processes? Do you need to convince others that this is the way to go; going deep into your patterns and dissolving them? I used to get really pissed off by some friends constantly preaching me with spiritual crap, ‘showing’ how to be or do. Fuck it! So not interesting! In case you are reading these lines, the author is enjoying her journey by playing with words as she loves this toy. Nothing more, nothing less!

Here you go; the words took me from the sharp pain of the arrow to the angelic, child-face of Eros. Walking on the path, jumping up and down, picking up a flower, hiding behind a tree, up and down, up and down…

Spiritüel Psikoz

Hastalandığımı ve dostlarımın ilgisini, desteğini istediğimi yazdım geçenlerde facebook’ta. İlk tepkiler geldiğinde hemen silesim geldi. O kadar yadırgadım ki bu kırılgan hali ifşa etmeyi, üstüne bir de ilgi istemeyi. Bu gibi haller napılır; gözden sözden uzak, kapalı kapılar ardında yaşanır, atlatılır ve insan içine öyle çıkılır benim bildiğim. Off ne kadar çok saçmalık var benim bildiğim, öyle böyle değil.

Uzun lafın kısası, az bir zaman önce üstadım Prem Baba’nın programladığı, çok ağır bir psiko-spiritüel inzivaya katıldım. Psikoloji aleminin kabul verdiği gerçek şu ki bildiğimizi sandığımız her bir halt, farkında olduğumuz veya olmadığımız her bir davranış kalıbımızın altında çocukluğumuz yatıyor. Bunun illaki travmatik, dayaklı dramalı bir çocukluk olmasına gerek yok. Gayet el bebek gül bebek yetiştirilenlerimiz için de geçerli bir arıza. Çocuk dediğin istediği her an, istediği şekilde, kayıtsız şartsız sevilmek istiyor. Bu istek o kadar şuursuz ve sınırsız ki karşılığını verecek bir ebeveyn düzeni yok bu hayatta. Bu sevgiyi almadığı her an ise (ki ne kadar çok bu anlar) bir travma olarak kaydoluyor hafızaya. Çocuğu öfke ve nefret duygularıyla tanıştırıyor daha el kadar bebeyken. Bebe biraz ayaklanınca hesaplar kitaplar başlıyor, ne yapar da beni daha çok sevmelerini sağlarım kavgası başlıyor. İşitilen her azar, ihtiyaç duyduğu sevgiyi alamadığı her an çocuğun kendini yetersiz hissetmesine neden oluyor; ben olduğum gibi sevilmeye layık değilim, daha güçlü/güzel/akıllı/disiplinli (ve sonu gelmeyen, sürekli listeye yenisi eklenen sıfatlar silsilesi) olursam beni severler düz mantığıyla çocuk kendine bir ideal yaratıyor. O ideal işte ebeveynin sevgisini hakeden! O ideale uymadığı her an artık sadece ebeveynin sevgisini haketmemekle kalmıyor kendisi de kendisini sevmiyor. Ve fiziksel olarak büyüyen ama ruhen, çok özel psiko-spirituel ayılmalar yaşamadığımız sürece çocuk kalan bizler hayat boyu bu ideali kovalarken ebeveynlerimizin replikası eşler dostlar taşıyoruz çemberimize ki eziyet bitmesin, aynı senaryolar yaşanıp dursun. Bu sefer sevdiricez işte kendimizi inancıyla kuyruğumuzu kovalamaya devam ediyoruz.

Bir ara, işte ilişkilerden yorgun düştüğüm bir dönemde iyice Irvin Yalom’a vermiştim kendimi. Varoluşçu Psikoterapi’de bir dolu ilişki örüntüsünün altında gizli olan ebeveyn-çocuk arızalarını anlatıyor adamım. Fakat diyordu ki bu çocukluk hallerinin sonu yok, her biri de insanoğlunun çok temel bazı korkularının ifadesi; dolayısıyla en nihayetinde kişinin yetişkin olduğunu kabul edip kendi hayatının sorumluluğunu alması gerekir. Ben bu mesajı yanlış anlamışım biraz o zaman. Yalom’un da dediği gibi yetişkinliğimizi ilan etmek yetmiyor; kendi hayatımızın sorumluluğunu almak, başımıza gelenler için ne ailemizi ne de dışsal başka herhangi bir faktörü suçlamayı bırakıp kendimize bakmak çok elzem. Fakat bu yüzleşmeyi yapabilmek için içimizdeki tüm o karanlığa, öfkeye, nefrete, kıskançlığa, suçluluk duygusuna, tembelliğe, nice kokuşmuş korkuya bakmak, bu duyguları görüp kabul etmekle başlıyor iş. Bu aşamayı atlayıp bir takım öğretilerin peşine takılmak geçici rahatlamalar yaratabiliyor ama zihinsel mastürbasyonun ötesine geçilemiyor. Misal ben bu psikoloji mevzusuna oldum olası ilgiliydim; etrafı suçlamayı bırakıp hayatımdaki her bir bireyi kendi içimdeki aydınlığın ve de karanlığın aynası olarak görme algısını epey bir zaman önce Vivian’ımın da sayesinde günüme kattıydım. Biri beni kıllandırdı mı hemen içe döner gözüm, neden kıllandım, neyi kaşıyor karşımdakinin bu tavrı, hangi duygular açığa çıkıyor. Başıma kötü bir şey mi geldi, ayna kafası çalışmaya başlar, niye böyle bir şeyi davet ettim hayatıma? Her modern esriğin kendine sorması icap eden sorular, değil mi? Amma ve lakin bu sorular o kadar kabarıklaşmaya, hesap kitap o kadar karmaşıklaşmaya başladı ki kendini dövmekten haz duyan iç güçlerin sesi fazla yüksek çıkmaya ve bazı dengeler sarsılmaya başladı. O dönemde canım üstadım ve dostum Laura topladıydı beni; diyordu ki ‘her bir farkındalıkla bir balon gibi çıkıyor içerideki karanlık yüzeye, yüzeye çıkınca da bu balonu patlatabiliyoruz. Sen o kadar çok balonu bir anda yüzeye çıkarıyorsun ki patlatmaya yetişemeyip boğuluyorsun sonra.’ Şimdi görüyorum o balonları su yüzüne çıkaran çocuk hala kendi yaratımı olan ‘ideal’i referans alıyor, bu ideale uymadığımda beni karanlık addediyordu. Yani aslında tüm çalışma hala yüzeydeydi, önce şu ideali bir fark edip onun altında yatan karanlığı hatırlamak gerekiyordu. Aksi halde, dediğim gibi zihinsel mastürbasyon...

                             

Psikosu tamam da spiritüel bunun neresinde diye sorarsak; işte tüm o balonlar havalandığında, egonun öz-yıkımına doğru taarruza geçildiğinde bünye bir yere kadarını kaldırıyor. Ego bu, ölmeye direnir, patlarız orta yerimizden mazallah. İşte yükün çok ağır geldiği bir noktada daha yüksek bir iradeye teslimiyet, bir yardım çağrısı icap ediyor. Kimi ilme irfana, kimi doğaya yeşile, kimi yüksek bilince. Artık o noktada kişi kendine yakışanı giyecek, ama o soğuk yola üstü başı açık çıkmayacak.

“Arayan vardığında, bir şifa çalışması kişinin duygusal yaralarını sarmaya, kalbindeki geçmişten kalma yaralara merhem olmaya başlar. Bu çalışma kişi kendi geçmişiyle uyum içinde olup bu geçmişten özgürleşene kadar; geriye baktığında hayatta başına gerelen her şey için gerçekten minnettar olana kadar sürer. İşte o an kişinin ruhu yeniden doğmaya hazırdır. Aslında ruhsal yolculuk tam da bu zaman gerçekten başlar. Bu noktaya kadar yapılan herşey aslında kişinin düşük benliğinin şifa bulması ve dönüşmesi için bir psiko-spiritüel çalışmadan ibarettir.” Sri Prem Baba

Yoni Puja

Charlotte pays a visit to a revered artist whose work she would like to display at her gallery. Welcoming her warmly to his secluded studio, the artist gently removes the cover revealing his latest work. ‘The canvases you are about to see … are the apotheosis of every great idea I ever had. It is the closest I ever come to the pure universal god force. The yoni!’ [1]

Some years ago 49 women came together on the beautiful island of Koh phangan to go into the depths of femininity for five full days. We started our journey with the eye-opening perspective Agama provides based on chakras and the level of consciousness of each chakra producing our understanding and experience of femininity. Afterwards Maha went deeper explaining how emotions work, starting from natural instincts of self-preservation turning into moods defining our patterns of behavior. Emotions are very precious, they are the flavor of life, and they shouldn’t be repressed; rather expressed. The trick of the game is about the choice of what to do with that emotion; key word being ‘choice’. Do I have the will and freedom to choose where my emotions lead me to? Can I face my emotion, observe it and decide what to do with it? Instead of looking for justifications for jealousy, anger, victimhood, can I choose how I react to these emotions in my life? The mind that generates emotions also hosts the power of discrimination; the will to choose the beneficial, the harmonious. It is a matter of cohabitation made possible by awareness. I can make a choice only if I am aware of what is going on without identifying myself with the mixed messages of strong emotions. That was another eye-opening perspective. I remember a very tough moment in my life. Many years ago I was in a very difficult situation of being attacked personally and as a team with my fellows by a group of young political animals in front of around thousand students from all over Europe. The events building up to that tension for months combined with the intensity these political games played during our general assembly simply broke me; I lost sight of what is going on inside and out. I remember crying non-stop. My lovely shiva at that time avoided any pampering during the whole day while all that craziness was happening and in the evening he just  told me ‘intelligent people can control their emotions’. Of course I was very pissed off about this remark, how dare he insult my intelligence?! Well, it takes some emotional maturity to understand the value of this guidance.  

Besides all these little light bulbs switching on in my head, these five days caused a shift in my whole understanding of femininity. In fact, I realized I was trying to live my entire life as a man under the mask of ‘strong woman’. I confronted my de-masculating acts towards men around me and how these acts harmed my own femininity. Maha used an unforgettable analogy for feminine power; a samurai sword in a velvet cover. I took this analogy into my arms and put it under my pillow that night.

During these days we were asked which part of our body we like the most. Among all the generic answers like eyes, legs, boobs one of the women came out with ‘my yoni’. What? How can a woman consider her ‘yoni’ as the most beautiful part of her body? I’d understand loving your yoni, feeling the power of your yoni but seeing it as your most beautiful bit?! The next day we were asked to wear an outfit making us feel feminine. That same woman came with her yoni totally out in display. After the initial shock, suggesting myself to be open and all, I looked at her yoni. Well yes, she is kind of beautiful. Another shift in my mind; it is not only about hers, yoni is beautiful. Then a secondary shock wave; I also got one of those! So I went home and looked at myself (down there obviously), but not in a new-agey ‘we need to love and accept our body’ kind of way. I looked at her for a long time intently. I started to say nice words to her, first following the instructions of our teachers, then improvising with my own words. Yes, it is possible to actually make peace with her; she really is a lotus flower; to be loved and cherished. I announced my peace accord with my yoni at the end of the workshop and thanked the woman who inspired me to do so.

And from that moment on everything changed.

There are two important symbols in Tantric yoga; yoni and lingam. If we go beyond the reductionist Freudian symbolism it is easy to observe the polarity of the feminine and masculine symbols manifested in all phenomena. The relationship of yoni and lingam appears between mountain and valley, fire and water, electricity and magnetism, sun and the moon. Yoni literally means the source; and her higher meaning is the source of creation; just like a woman’s yoni being her source of creative energy. Feeling this power is indeed the closest one may ever come to the pure universal god force. Having said that, mere words don’t suffice to address this topic. One needs to experience her power and Anish Kapoor made me relive all these experiences through another channel of creation; through arts. Visiting his exhibition, getting goosebumbs by looking at his amazing work is a genuine, powerful yoni puja[2]. It is not my place to comment on such a high level of art but I can just recommend if you ever get the chance to see his work, just fix your gaze upon one of his yoni statues for some minutes and see what happens.

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[1] Actually he uses another word, but I prefer to use the Sanskrit word for vagina; yoni. And please try to ignore your scepticsm towards Sex and the City; these series may have used and abused sex, alcoholism, fashion, relationships and many other things but they did put lots of critical issues concerning femininity on the table.

[2] Puja: ritual

Capturing the scent of a week

My nose runs my life at times. I assess the place I enter, the person I’ve met, the ground I step on based on their scents; decide if I like them or not accordingly. A beloved who used to make my head spin with his scent may gently be pushed away once I smell something off about him. Probably the underlying cause is something else, but the sense of smell gives the final verdict; ‘time to move on…’. My nose is capable of time-travel, can take me to a memory from years ago just by being caught by a random scent.

There is one week in my life; I wanted to capture its essence in a perfume, so that I can smell it every now and then, so that I won’t ever forget it.

It was many many years ago, don’t remember when exactly. I was in Ankara in summer time for some reason when everybody else was scattered elsewhere as Middle East Technical University was closing its doors until the new term. Another birthday creeping me out; stirring all the fears of loneliness, lack of self-love compensated temporarily by the love and attention of others was a few days ahead. Everything was in its places; but I was in need of intensity.

I stopped by at the ‘hip pub in town’ with a friend that summer. Never been into pubs or small talks pepped up by the fake courage of a few drinks spreading in one’s veins. The dislike was probably both-ways, I wasn’t really an ideal bar customer; either not drinking or entering other dimensions just after two glasses. On that night I was again convinced that not even the funkiest club ever would help dealing with the void inside and out. Somehow though I found myself (and my friend of course) talking to two guys; filtered out as eligible companions since there were apparently members of ‘our circles’. Despite my protective shield of small talk incompetency I went into a deep conversation with this handsome, sweet guy. No amount of handsome could lower those shields at time, strengthened by my non-flirtatiousness. There was the need for a crack in space and time where only two people fitted in. Another dimension to open up and share all the stories created and to be created and dance all the joy. Yes, I needed that crack.

Until I find Mehmet's photo lighting his cigarette in my living room, this should do. May his path to light be as smooth and beautiful

And I needed the masculine power to guide the travel in that crack. When there is the slight push of a man, his gentle guidance… How strong becomes then the dance of the woman; how creative her force… The very creation is generated by this polarity. Once we remember the natural roles of man and woman (inside and out) hidden under the confusions related to social equality; once we encounter that polarity the play flourishes.

Mehmet was my North and I was his South once we have entered that crack. There are no plans in that dimension. A flow begins according to the laws of nature. It is amazing how many stories are there to tell all of a sudden. All the faded memories hidden in their shelves come out and shine once I share them with him. The fear of losing a mask, revealing a truth diminishes at each step. It is challenging to stay totally naked, but I get as close to it as my awareness at that time allows me to be.
 

We enter into deep talks in my house those days; which was the ‘in' place to be, decorated by my drawings and wild colors. There is of course the tension of being man and woman alone under the same roof in the air but we don’t enter that territory at all. There is so much else to experience in that alternate space and time. Yes, there is the obligatory shopping, cooking, outing together. However Mehmet joined me through the toughest torture at that time just after having met me for two days. He stood by my side while I was struggling to get my visa from the Dutch embassy; haha! The queue of dozens of people, my anger towards the disrespectful treatment of my fellow citizens, my fears of not having all documents ready evaporated with the warmth of his shining smiles. Well, the massive guard of the Consulate Şaban’s preferential treatment also helped. On this occasion my heartfelt thanks to dear Mr. Şaban!

Whenever Mehmet had to stop by at his house to change clothes or run an errand there was no debate; we jumped into my lady car Mübeccel; I’d wait for him outside and we went back to my temple. Then my birthday arrived; with all of my dear friends anywhere else then in Ankara with me. I left the house in the morning to go to the campus without making any plans with Mehmet. On my way back the experienced script writer in me responsible for all the dark stories to prevent the disappointment of any un-fulfilled expectations already decided about the ending of the chapter. And life confirmed the script. The house was empty. I found a piece of paper at the door with no words on. The script writer however had already added a few lines of consolation to the ending. ‘Well, you knew the guy for only a few days anyway’.

However that time-space dimension has a different flow. Before I knew it Mehmet was back. He just had to step out to run an errand, thinking he could keep the door open by putting a folded piece of paper in between (what a genius!).  I have no memory of what we did on that day or any day that followed it. Whatever had happened was so fulfilling, nourished my heart so deeply that I don’t need to remember the incidents; or how the crack closed down by the end of the week. Probably I left town as it is usually the case in my life. Or maybe that time he was the one having to leave. In any case the theme of our story was written in capital letters at the very beginning. We gave our souls to each other while we were in that crack. There was no fear, no calculation, no holding back. We knew that we’d stand by each other no matter what. I am here for you, to take care of you, to heal any wound you have, to listen to any story that you want to tell, I am here to be you, you are here to be me. Can this be real? Yes.

Did I ever tell him all that? No, never bothered; he already knew.

I just wanted to capture the scent of that one week (or less) before he decided to leave this life. We both know it all but still; just to smell this perfume whenever needed; whenever we couldn’t fill in the gaps inside by ourselves.