Mirabai’s Dazzling Cosmic Vision…2 of 3

Mira saw her entrancing Blue God everywhere—in rocks, forests and blossoms, in storm, thunder and lightning, in animate and inanimate things. Fearless and ascetic, graceful and elegant, Mira was saint, philosopher, singer and poet, and one of India’s most versatile geniuses.

Uncaring of her critics, Mira danced wildly on the streets of Vrindavan. Averse to the ritualistic worship so entrenched in the Indian psyche, she focused on Krishna—who was husband, friend, family and Guru to her. Shielded by his love, she forsook royal extravagance for a beggar’s life on the bustling streets of ancient Vrindavan. Wars erupted around her, and human consciousness sank to its nadir, yet nothing could stop this Queen from her simple devotions.

This is why, centuries after her miraculous passing, her poem-songs continue to infuse people with courage and unconditional love of the Divine; they express both her yearning to merge with Krishna, as well as the ecstasy of divine union. Her songs melt the angry wounded human heart into surrender; they inspire not because she was a skilled wordsmith, but because they were tender outpourings of a heart dedicated to the Divine. Even atheists have been profoundly moved by Mira’s potent language of love.

Psychotic or Saint? Who Killed Jasmine #4/4

Eastern philosophy has convinced me that just one invisible factor separates the psychotic facing the electric chair from a great being like Mahatma Gandhi — and that is karma. In order to evolve, it is essential we improve ourselves on all levels — and that begins with changing the root of our egocentric thought patterns. Practicing gratitude is a great way to do this, for it diverts the channel of our thoughts from negative to positive, even as it expands our appreciation of this dazzling cosmos and our role in it.

It is our responsibility to discover that we are all far greater than our bodies, our minds, and our circumstances. My own deeper quest began when I came to grips with the stark realization that mainstream life would never ever satisfy me, that when I assessed my worth in terms of shifting relative factors — appearance, talents, wealth, power — I was fighting a losing battle. There was always someone wittier, more talented, prettier and richer hovering in the wings. And even if I believed I was God’s gift to humanity, there was a fair chance no one else would perceive me that way; some might even see me as a major pain in the batootie.