When A Crocodile eats The Sun

I read this book a few years ago when I was still in Lesotho. Haunting, beautiful, inspirational.Thought I will share the impression it made on me, here....

When I began reading it, I was cautioned that this was a White man’s version of contemporary Zimbabwe. Even if I assume that it did suffer from that implied infirmity of bias and discount for it, the narrative is moving, heartbreaking and compelling. It rings with credibility. It is a tale of twin and parallel furrows of despair and love, of hopelessness and courage, cruelty and generosity. And yet, this is no outpouring of bitterness alone; just beneath the surface hope for humanity is visible, swimming serenely, waiting for its time to rise.....

This is a true tale of the family of ex-policeman Peter Godwin as it negotiates an increasingly bleak and even cruel landscape rolled out by Mugabe in the country of its adoption. It is a human story that makes the contours of political and economic life in contemporary Zimbabwe rise in relief so that we see a vivid picture at our arm's length.

Zimbabwe: the horrors of land-distribution, the sheer anarchy, the dark despotic shadow over millions of lives and the de-humanizing of a generation or more are a – for want of a better word – madness that has afflicted it, like the disease of a moment of passion. Only this moment appears to live itself again and again, in a terrifying loop. One aging man appears to have put Zimbabwe into an unstoppable tail-spin that can have but one ending that could defy every styptic effort. Or so one fears.

Reading it, I once again marvelled at the miracle of neighbouring South Africa and silently thanked Him for Nelson Mandela. In the post-apartheid decade, this country too could have careened onto the vengeful path. It too could have unleashed the pent up fount of vitriol and, in the name of ‘righting the historic wrongs’ destroyed a beautiful country. Even today, the fears of a Zimbabwe-like slide have not entirely stopped hemorrhaging; we can hope though that with the horrendous example of Zimbabwe to learn from and with the passage of each year, that ominous specter will fade beyond retrieval.

It also brings the question of 'how far back in history can we go to claim ownership of truth, facts....or assets and land'? Can the way to move forward in human affairs ever be to navigate through the dark alleys of the the past first?   

The book is lovingly crafted, each sentence a surprising necklace, studded with imagery that shines and shines in its own lambent brilliance. For me, a truly inspirational work!

Sunday Times blurb on the cover got is exactly right, “A moving meditation.....”

'Charting' Me!

Who am I?

I certainly am not my outer form, I am not the incessant chatter that fills up my head, I am not my Ego....

I am part of the larger consciousness, the Higher Intelligence that 'runs' the universe, the awareness that is even aware of my thoughts and stands silently behind them, observing and listening, inseparable from everyone and everything else around us......

Yet, most of my life I have gone on in an unconscious state, simply acting from my Ego, acting as if I was separate from others and, therefore, in perpetual need of seeking approval, controlling, judging, criticising or at least advising - not always from true concerns for others' well-being and growth but because, at a subliminal level, I had this overpowering need to prove some sort of 'superiority'.

This teaching is at the heart of many spiritual traditions. The crux of our pain (or 'dukha' as Buddha put it) is falsely identifying ourselves with our egoic identities. As I begin to grasp Tolle's teachings better, even to my layman's eye, dots are joining neatly and seamlessly between them and Bhagvadgita's offerings and Zen (the little that I know) and Kabir's dohas....and more. Even momentary awareness of this truth brings instant peace and makes me more effective in discharging my worldly duties.

I have not even scratched the surface so far, of course, much less attained the perpetual joy that must follow. But, with my extremely limited understanding (and nudged by my military mind) I have organised the learning so far in a chart. Here it is:

I am my Ego	I Am
To plod on through life, carrying the burden of my Ego, forever taking counsel of my Ego’s bidding, is my lot. To struggle is my purpose.	To awaken and stay awake is my inner purpose.
At every moment, I am either superior or inferior to another.	I just am.
I judge. I criticise. This tells me I am superior.	I just am.
I am not complete unless I have approval – so I seek it in many guises.	I am complete and do not need external approval.
I am not complete unless I control.	I am complete and do not need to control.
I need to have instant gratification and predictability to feel that I am okay.	I do not need gratification to be in joy; the ‘pain’ of discipline deepens my joy.
I am separate from everyone and everything else – and that is how I treat the world.	I am connected to the universe. I am part of the consciousness.
I live in the past (beset by guilt or emotion about moments that will never be) or the future (and anxieties of unborn moments that might never be).	I live in the only moment that I ever can – now!
I work because it is a chore and has to be done.	I fulfil my outer purpose(s) in alignment with my inner-purpose – with energy, enthusiasm and acceptance.
I am my thoughts.	I am my consciousness.
Life is a perpetual combat.	I live in flow and joy.
I have this perpetual urge to advise others – I know best!	I am immersed in hearing the drum-beat of my inner-self. How can I compulsively prescribe for others?
Disagreement angers me.	I hear with equanimity.
I wrestle with what is. I cannot accept ‘reality’ as is.	I accept.

Mindfulness

A great deal of peace - even 'success in dealing with life's 'problems' - lies in mindfulness. To be present in the Now is to live in the only moment that one can ever live in. To focus on what 'is' rather than what was or could be is the answer to many questions.

Take eating, for example. I recently browsed a book called 'Mindless Eating' by an author whose name I do not recollect (which gives you a clue to my own state of 'mindfulness'!) The crux of his conclusions is that we eat mainly not because we are hungry but out of sheer reflex which, in turn, is born out of our perceptions, the way the food is presented, the number of people we eat with, our estimate of the size of the helpings etc. The answer to not eating mindlessly, therefore, is to eat mindfully. In other words ‘awareness’ is the key.

This seems to join the dots with Eckhart Tolle’s teachings. Living in the present – in the now – then is the core of the solution. Could it be that when we eat mindlessly we are ‘feeding’ the same ego-body? Could it be that we can turn it around with awareness of the now, of being acutely mindful of how hungry we really are, what and how much we are about to eat and thus side-step the temptations and pitfalls that come our way?

This needs to be explored.

Another thought that came to my mind was that the more a person lives in his or her ‘now’, the greater is his or her situational awareness. How is it that some people remember details such as where they kept their keys, parked their cars or in what sequence even the mundane events happened while others struggle? Perhaps it indicates that they tend to be more in their ‘now’ and thus these things get imprinted in their minds. At that moment, what they are doing is of importance and they are completely engaged (or at least almost completely) engaged with it.
Do such individuals have a lower tendency to operate from their ‘egoic’ selves? Are they likely to be happier, even more successful?

This too needs to be explored....

I am my Ego. Or Am I?

Out beyond the ideas of right-doing and wrong-doing,
there is a field.
I'll meet you there

Sufi poet Rumi

There is a ‘me’ that is inseparable from Higher Intelligence or God. That ‘me’ does not ‘live life’ – it is life itself.

And then there is the ‘egoic’ me - that identifies itself with the outer form, the thoughts and causes all the pain by not letting me live in the Now. This egoic me is one that has become the larger, indeed, mostly the only me. It operates from ego and feeds and strengthens itself. It acts from a position of superiority or inferiority. It loves drama and conflict. It thrives on role playing, never from doing simply.

It is diluted by awareness. The moment I am aware of thinking or acting from my ego, I dilute it. It does not require ‘will power’. It needs awareness.

Ever since I read Eckhart Tolle, I have become more aware of that small ‘me’ than ever before. And a number of things have become obvious simply from that awareness:
The egoic (or small or petty or mischievous) me is, as of now, quite persistent. It pops up all the time and plays mischief. It retreats when the light of awareness is flashed at it.

The moment I refuse to act from it, the world begins to change! Other egos appear to retreat and dissolve too!

Eternal vigilance is needed to weaken this small ‘me’.

The retreat of the ‘small me’ does not imply that I have to retreat from worldly affairs! It is all about the gentle dance between the 'human' and the 'Being' in me. It is about balance.

It is about acting with a detachment from ego.

The word "I" embodies the greatest error and the deepest truth, depending on how it is used.

Eckhart Tolle

How Do You Do?

In life 'what' you do is important.

But not anywhere as important as 'how' you do.

Indeed, the 'how' is critical. To a point where the 'what' does not really matter.

To be immersed in whatever you do, you bring the very best to it. Whether it is simply paying attention to someone, cleaning your desk, composing a verse, dressing up (don't all the ladies instantly agree?!), savouring food, studying for an exam or taking aim to shoot.....to be one with the Now and completely absorbed in the act itself is what brings it quality.

There is more that examines it.

What is your intent in doing what you do? Are you impelled by the prodding of your ego? Or is it pure love ("the ability to stretch your ego boundaries to accommodate another person for his or her long term good") that lies at the heart of your endeavour? Are you saying or doing something because you must get instant acknowledgement or approval? Or are you, bereft of the burden of ego, simply fulfilling your purpose in life in the best possible way?

The answer to these elemental 'why' questions defines the 'how' of what we do.

And, it is the 'how' that defines our work and eventually us.

What Is This About?

Now, where was I?

Nowhere in particular, it seems. Generally floundering, often desperately lost, sometimes adrift, occasionally sure-footed…..moving on this journey called life. As you might have too.

Along the way I have hitch-hiked I picked up many maps and clues as I was given the many free rides, some generously by Masters and others absorbed consciously or unconsciously. As you would have too.

In this blog I will share those maps – big and small. To make the journey easier.

A collection of clues. A hitch-hiker's loosely bound guide of sorts to (I know this sounds pompous!) inner galaxy that we all share.

Solar by Ian McEwan

Solar is a story of greed for gratification on a scale that refuses to allow any transgression by ‘love’ or ‘commitment’. Michael Beard, a Nobel laureate and a much heralded genius is also a much married man. His five marriages have floundered without making him a father, a result neither of incapacity nor abstinence but purely of disinclination. As the curtain rises, his fifth marriage is staring at The End and, for a change, it is his wife’s indiscretion that is bringing it about.

But even the staid lives of scientists are not always bereft of drama; a sudden turn of events – dramatic even in its ordinariness (a man tripping over a rug) – sets off choices for Beard that appear to provide solutions to his somewhat messy life. I must take a break from recounting the bare bones of this tale to add that it is precisely under the cloak of such ordinary moments that Ian McEwan tends to hide the tale that he then unleashes on unsuspecting dramatis personae and the reader. Who does not recall the tipping of the porcelain jar into a shallow fountain in Atonement or the slight brush between a doctor and street-side ruffians in Saturday or the accidental unshackling of the hot-air balloon in Enduring Love? In each case, what followed so credibly from the turn of events could hardly have been predicted.

In case of Michael Beard several arrows appear to be closing in on him in a small desert town in Southern US, where he has arrived to unveil his latest and perhaps last magnum-opus – a project to produce electricity from water. None of the arrows is benign and none entirely misses the mark. Yet, in the moment of his catastrophic defeat, for one fleeting moment, Beard experiences an unexpected emotion that even he could not have suspected of possessing.

Ian McEwan draws Beard with great dexterity – there is no reason why we should not loathe the man and yet we might not. He deserves no sympathy, of course; but we might be forgiven if that impulse arises at the very end.

It is another masterpiece – satirical, funny and suspenseful.