VISIONARY TEACHINGS
by Gill Schwartz

MY SANDALS

       Kanya Kumari – Cape Cameron – at the southern tip of India, is where three oceans meet; the Arabian Sea, the Bay of Bengal, and the Indian Ocean. Their different colored sands eddy together along the beaches in red and gold and black. High up, on the low surrounding hills, are ageless temples and monuments, most to the virgin goddess Kumari – Siva's maiden beloved. As this is one of five sacred places around India where they come, it was usual to see bands of pilgrims from all regions in their unique local costumes. I would go to worship services there in the depths of a womb-like shrine, awed as the priest revealed the Beloved's flower covered image with his circling candle flame. A very special, very hallowed place.

       The Vivekananda Ashram, where I was a resident for some while, was just up the coast from there, on the Tamil Nadu side of India. The Ashram was dedicated to training people to do social work around the country. It was a basic training of some six months in health and sanitation, agriculture, family planning and skills in community service. A wonderful and essential service to the nation. The life style of we residents and faculty was very simple and peaceful, completely centered around the training. Most of the students were fairly bright young men who wanted to do helpful work.

       My service there was to teach a more universal English than many of them spoke. Occasionally, I taught Hatha Yoga and meditation. I found teaching this to Indians especially satisfying. I'd taught these skills in the States for some years and found that situation humorous. I had lot of time there for solitude that I enjoyed. I would often walk the usually empty expansive beach and the tropical forest of coconut and palm trees that bordered the Ashram's land. The only others I might see there would be a few fishermen in their raggedly sailed long canoes.

       The life and location were delightfully exotic and soul satisfying for me. On this afternoon's walk, I was especially touched with profound gratitude for the sense of Presence in all this in my life. The staccato rattling of the palm leaves high overhead in the fresh off shore wind, the interweaving of plaintive gulls' calls, the calming murmur of waves splashing into foam nearby, all wove into music that my whole being sang with.  

       I was drawn to a spot just beyond the forest's edge where the beach began its downward slope to meet with the ruffled turquoise crystal of the Ocean. I sat in a cushioning hollow, took off my sandals and, unawarely, placed them side by side before me on a swirled mosaic of sands.

       Prayers of gratitude and thanksgiving poured up out of me with no forethought.
"Thank You, Lord G__. Thank You for Your perfect guidance and provision. Thank You, Thank You," my heart joyfully sung out.

       Being in a Hindu Ashram and often taking part in their religious services, their prayer imagery was potent for me. From that background, I intoned, "I praise Your Lotus Feet, Lord. I touch Your Lotus Feet," as I bowed face down in the sand with tears of bliss, my joined hands, resting before my sandals.

       "I PUT MY LOTUS FEET IN THOSE SANDALS," the Lord spoke that revelation in the core my devotion absorbed soul and out to every part of my being. Utter silence followed. Utter peace. Utter bewilderment. What HE said is true, I knew without doubt. And it will astound me for the rest of my life.

HOW DO I WALK THIS TRUTH?

The reminder of my awakening is simply
a pair of my slippers on the floor in a pose
– toes turned out, the right heal just below the left.
This evokes, in the far distance of my mind's eye,
that vision from over half a lifetime ago.

The sandals I then wore, battered in pilgrimage,
lay before me on the sacred sands
in that selfsame pose.
In grateful prayer at being in India to pray,
"I bless Your Lotus Feet," I chanted in praise.
And the Lord, whose Feet I worship,
told me again and again and again,
"I PUT MY LOTUS FEET IN THOSE SANDALS."

I am His witness and His servant.
I am the seeker of the illuminations
that are His passing thoughts.
Leaping the chasm of understanding,
I am a beholder of His Presence,
a witness that, though encased in this
fleshy web of dreams and happenstance,
nothing diminishes the Splendor
of His own true Presence.

 

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Copyright Gill Schwartz 2003   www.WisdomVisions.com