Jai Chandra
This morning, when the timer went off, I was so deep into a train of thought, it took me a moment to realize I had been sitting to meditate. It’s a practice.

This morning, when the timer went off, I was so deep into a train of thought, it took me a moment to realize I had been sitting to meditate. It’s a practice.

When I have not looked at my email for several days, I am faced with dozens of emails in my two regular accounts, plus the spam folders. The first thing I do is see what in the spam folder is not spam. In doing that, I give some attention to everything in the folder. Then I go through my in box to figure out what should have gone to spam. Then I delete the spam. Then I decide what emails from list serves there is no point in reading because if I have not read them immediately, I will have missed the letter-writing, petition-signing, event-going, offering-enjoying that is described in the email. Those get deleted without being opened. There is another level of emails that I open, but just skim. Then I either delete quickly or leave to be read after I get to the important stuff. Then there are the personal and business emails that I want to read and require my attention. I look at them to see if they need immediate attention or can wait.
The thoughts that arise during meditation have a similar filter. Some are spam. There is a certain almost mesmerizing quality about the quantity and array of the thoughts, but I just let them go — returning to my mantra or the breath because the mantra is far more delightful than the thoughts. Other thoughts, I acknowledge, but leave for later (i.e., the proverbial “to do” list), again finding more delight in the spaciousness and light of meditation. Sometimes particular thoughts relevant to my practice and very being will start resonating in the light itself and becomes messages. These thoughts sometimes dissolve again into the light of meditation and do not come with me from the session in a tangible form. Others stay with me and give me fruit for contemplation, for investigation and study, for illumination of my day, or for discussion with others for further refinement.
Always, though, there is an acceptance that thoughts will arise as inevitably as one with multiple active email accounts and many list serves will get email. The practice is learning which thoughts I should give heed, which to discard, and when and how to listen to those that will serve and inform.
Since arriving in Santa Fe late this afternoon, I’ve encountered many of the Hindu pantheon, almost more prevalent than who is indigenous or long settled here, but that’s probably just due to the first places I walked. Fitting perhaps since I’m mostly on this trip to bathe in the yoga practices.

Rosa’s Pizza is on the Long Island Railroad level of Penn Station. To my best recollection, it has been there since before I started taking the LIRR regularly in the early 1970s, and I still go there occasionally when I connect through Penn Station to visit my parents a few times a year. Rosa’s makes an eggplant slice that tastes like eggplant parmigiana on decent pizza crust. Yup, it’s got cow dairy and gluten and lots of fat, but it is one of those foods that is so strongly associated with both place and belonging for me that it gives me great delight to eat it once or twice a year.
When I was meditating yesterday morning, I had a vision of myself jet-lagged and groggy from landing in JFK and taking the train from the airport to Penn Station to head home after two and a half weeks of a study tour led by Professor Douglas Brooks of Tamil Nadu (including Chidambaram), which I am planning to do at the winter holidays. In this meditation moment, I was ecstatically happy to be eating an eggplant slice from Rosa’s after taking my seat on Amtrak. I enjoyed the moment and then let go of this reverie to slip deeper into meditation.
At work, I told a friend of mine about this vision. He said that was not the right approach to a trip to India — shouldn’t I be eagerly anticipating what I would experience in India itself? I begged to differ. The excitement and anticipation of what I will see and experience and learn is a given. It was sweet to have pierce my meditation how happy I will be to return home. It helps me remember that for all the ups and downs of my choices, I am comfortable enough with them to be finding meditative bliss in the idea of something that is part of “home.”