Satsang
I don’t know how many of us have been to a Satsang. It is a traditional activity in the East Indian spiritual context, meaning “being with good/righteous companions.” Satsang is a sitting together with an enlightened person who usually gives a short speech and then answers questions.
My first experience was with a lady named Gangaji, twenty eight years ago here in Sedona. At Satsang, we gather together and sit quietly without speaking. Many of the gathering, meditate and allow themselves to find the silence within. Then the Guru or teacher comes in and we continue in silence. Usually the teacher will begin speaking extemporaneously and share whatever is in their heart. After they stop, people often get up and ask questions. They are sometimes stuck in their perceptions about life and the teacher will listen and lead them to a place of understanding.
It is hard for me to put into words the feeling that I have during this whole experience. In short, I feel at home. I resonate with the words shared by the teacher but even more with their presence. My inadequate words are; I am filled with joy and love and possibilities.
I was reviewing a possible film for our festival tonight and it was about Mooji. Mooji’s teachings are simple and he encourages his followers to avoid the mind’s influence. Then, abide in the Self which is the witness of all phenomenal existence. It is before any “thing,” including thoughts and all that is perceived with the five senses. He teaches that to be in your spiritual heart, the part of you that knows. The world does not need the ego’s help. Truth and freedom occur at the end of striving.
If he were here tonight he might say: there is nothing to do, there is nowhere to go, you are already there. Once we give up the notion that we need to do or accomplish, we begin to connect with the essence of who we are. It is then we can live in peace and let life flow from us and through us. Simply put, we are what we have been searching for and have found our way home. From my peaceful heart to yours, Thomas