4 September 2020
Dearests,
A quick note to say hello. I hope all of you are well and thriving. We’re both okay. We just returned from six weeks in Haynes Park. It was lovely to be there. It was also strange. Haynes is usually buzzing with sevadars; now it is a ghost town. On a quiet day, there are normally between 500 to 800 sevadars; now there are only 20. There is the same dedication to seva, and people still have a good laugh. At the same time, though, the atmosphere is subdued. Maybe it’s my imagination as I’m used to larger numbers, or maybe it’s because it’s hard to recognize people and engage when it is necessary to stay two metres apart and they are wearing masks.
The other day someone said hello to me, I had no idea who it was. He wore a turban and a mask. My comment was that I didn’t recognize him as I didn’t recognize his eyebrows, as that was all I could see. A mask tends to distance us from each other. A certain intimacy is missing; we can’t see someone’s laughter. Having said that, there is a warmth that is still there. Love is still there. But distance also. Masks have always been used to hide ourselves, from bandits in the American West to Carnevale in Venice. I was just speaking to a couple who both work in warehouses. They said there are still jokes and teasing at work but it isn’t the same. She said she realized that seeing laughter is as much a part of the shared humour as the laughter itself. For me not being able to joke and laugh with friends is one of the great losses of the pandemic. Maybe that’s why I write these letters, to share a laugh with all of you.
Flying to and from Haynes was an out-of-the-ordinary experience also. In the past I flew two to three times a month, often more. I hadn’t been on a flight in six months before this one. I could pack the night before, go to the airport, and clear customs in my sleep, I flew so often. Now there was a certain apprehension. Will I be safe, will Ann? Ann approached it like a military campaign, ready for any emergency. It was like a scene from a movie where the heroes put on their PPE gear, walk through the plastic curtains to the contaminated area but walk bravely and fearlessly, ready to face anything the script sends their way. Ann had her gloves, gel, spray and wipes, ready to destroy any little virus that dared to come in her path. I stumbled along behind in my usual oblivion carrying our bags. I was like Laurel to her Hardy.
But like all heroes, we returned victorious from our quest and are now in our lovely, quiet, backwater Italian apartment. And quiet it is! When we left there had been a few weeks of satsang and seva. Now a new lockdown has started. When I speak to friends I hear a certain weariness in their voices. I can hear the unspoken question – when is this going to be over? It’s obvious it won’t be over for a while. It is now clear that we are in for a long haul. How to cope with fear, weariness, and depression are the burning questions. All of us are vulnerable to doubt. Is this really what the Lord wants from us? Are we being punished? Intellectually we know the answers and have the understanding. But are we balanced enough, objective enough, mature enough to be content living in his will?
I ask myself what we have to do to overcome our fears and worries. Seva is limited, satsang only online, so our usual activities, which help us to keep balance and stay positive, are not available. These are the times where we learn who we are. I remember at Haynes, Baba Ji talking to youngsters and often saying, “When you get up in the morning and are looking in the mirror, ask yourself if you are happy with your behaviour. If you are, then go on as you are. But if you are disappointed with yourself, then it is a message to change.” This is our time to change. It is our time to walk the walk of Sant Mat and not just talk the talk. I don’t have the confidence in myself to say with surety that I will be able to sustain a positive response to life in these challenging times. But the alternative to confidence or balance or enthusiasm is depression and fear. I won’t let myself indulge in these doubts. I take strength knowing that all of you are fighting the same battle, and with our faith in him all will be well.
This is the struggle of our time. I hope that all of us can look back on the Covid pandemic period as the best time of our life – the time we were challenged and succeeded. Dare I say it, my friends, a time of joy.
There is much comfort in simran. It has the power to steady my mind and that is a feat! I’m trying to use it as a tool to strengthen myself. Yes, it is challenging and often very frustrating, but nothing else in our hands has the same power. OK, here comes my heresy. I don’t care about the inner regions. What I care about are contentment, a relaxed mind, and serving him. If a little love comes as a by-product, that’s lovely.
The other thing that works for me, if I want to relax my agitated mind, is seva. It takes me out of myself and is a pleasure. I remember someone asking Baba Ji about seva and the trials and tribulations associated with it. He said that for him seva is always a pleasure. I couldn’t get that statement out of my mind. How can it always be a pleasure when some situations and some people are so challenging? Then I realized they were challenging because I was reacting. When we understand that the world doesn’t revolve around us, it might be the first step in doing nishkam seva (selfless seva). When I get lost in seva and flow with it, then it is a pleasure. But the second I have expectations and want everything done my way, then I’m lost and the pleasure is gone. He does seva because his master asked him to and he wants to please his guru. There is no other motivation, only to please his guru. That’s my goal. It isn’t achievable but it’s a good goal to keep in front of us.
It’s too easy to become serious. As usual, please forgive me for being preachy. Take a vow with me; let’s laugh life’s worries away.
My very, very best,
Bill