Question: “Sometimes it is hard for me to feel my Heart. What can I do?”

Ram Giri: The mind has a tendency to run after distractions. This is caused by the subtle desires of the unconscious mind. It is an addiction that keeps the mind agitated and focused outward, away from the Heart. It is the greatest obstacle on the spiritual path and a source of tremendous suffering. Because of this unconscious and powerful mental addiction the soul is unable to know its true nature and freedom.

There are two answers to your question of what you can do. The first answer is consistent and patient practice, to discipline the mind by the use of HeartSourcing or other meditative techniques. Although you will not have a great experience every time you practice, the effort is cumulative. You cover a distance of 10,000 miles one step at a time.

The second answer is that inside your Heart is the presence of the Divine. Some people imagine it as a spark of the great light of God. This divine presence has a masculine and a feminine aspect. The masculine aspect is absolute Truth. The feminine aspect is absolute unconditional Love and Compassion. This feminine aspect is known as the Divine Mother, the Goddess. She dwells in all beings.

To free yourself from the addiction of the mind to the unending distractions of the world, you can turn toward this all-compassionate inner presence. In the sublime psychology of the higher mind that we know as the ancient wisdom of India, this tendency toward distraction is known as the (inner) demon Mahisha. The (inner) Goddess is known as Mahishamardini, “She who kills the demon of distraction” and so sets you free. This means that it is the very function of your inner Divinity to set you free. She exists for that purpose.

This tendency to distraction, ignorance and subtle desires is a knot in the Heart (kama granthi). When the inner Goddess frees us of this powerful ‘demon’ this knot is destroyed and the Heart opened by the ascending power of kundalini. This awakens in us great spiritual and material prosperity and good fortune.

But there is a quality to love we have to remember: love never forces itself. So if you want that presence of powerful divine Love to come to your aid, you have to activate it by asking the Goddess to set you free of the distracted mind. This should be particularly easy for women who are the manifestation of Her form in the world. But men as well have within themselves this great power of self-liberation. So whether we are in a male or female body, we can turn to our own nature in the form of this absolute motherly love.

If but for a moment we can put pride aside, we can find in the depth of us a place of childlike surrender. It’s been there ever since we were very small children. Later we may have developed a litany of problems with our mothers, but let’s just leave all this aside for a moment. Deep in us is the pattern of this trusting surrender, and now we activate it not toward another being (who may leave us) but toward the presence of absolute motherly care in us. This makes this surrender completely safe.

This asking to be freed of the demon of distractedness is surrender. Instead of years of psychotherapy or austerity, instead of pounding on heaven’s doors, try to simply turn to that motherly presence in your own Heart and ask to be set free. Instead of being a hero in your quest for peace, try to be a child for now. Be simple and egoless, just for a moment. Find that place of trust in the divine in you that will be fulfilled.

This place of primal trust exists in the depth of your Heart. Evoke it there. It is just a simple and honest asking. You can do it now. You do not have to wait until many years of accumulated pain give you enough despair so you finally discover this place of surrender. No, surrender is easy. It’s child’s play. For a moment be that child of the Divine Mother in you and ask Her for help, and She will unfailingly give you that help. She will give it to you in Her way and in Her time, but it will unfailingly come and you will be free to live out of the unobstructed purity of the unlimited Love in your Heart.

Here is an entry from my friend Jai Uttals’ blog at http://jaiuttal.com/blog/:

The “Bhakti Movement” in the US these days is kind of strange to me. Wonderful, but also, weird. Wonderful because more and more people are experiencing the incredibly passionate joy of singing God’s names; and weird because, as Americans, we seem to feel the need to make it ‘special,’ and make ourselves ‘special’, and use Madison-Avenue type names to label and increase our ‘special-ness.’ We throw around words like ‘bhakti,’ ‘bhava’ and ‘ecstacy’ as if they are ice cream flavors or new types of kombucha. But in India, where all this stuff comes from, these words denote deep spiritual states, attained by only a few very lucky and very devoted souls who then become inspirations for the rest of us. When we in the west get together for an evening of Kirtan everyone is so eager to ‘get off,’ to have a super high euphoric experience, kind of like a rock concert…. This is fine, I suppose, but it’s just sooooo different from what we experience in a small temple in North India, where the devotees feel like they’ve been chanting for lifetimes and lifetimes, oblivious to the highs and lows, riding the waves of emotion and mood, resting in deep longing and fulfillment and surrender, awaiting God’s mercy. Is ‘Bhakti’ just a ‘high?’ A cool, blissed-out experience? The great ‘bhaktas’ (devotees) of old all write of an immense love and an even greater dependence on their beloved’s response. “My Lord, I’ve done nothing to deserve your embrace, but please come to me anyway!!!” Oh well. Maybe I’m just an old curmudgeon, too hard on myself and thus too hard on everyone else…

Here’s a true story of ‘Bhakti’…… (I probably have many details of this story incorrect, and I thought I would do some research before writing it. But instead I’m just diving in. Please forgive any historical or theological errors.)

In a dusty desert village in West Bengal, in the 15th century, sat an old but still very active little temple to the Goddess. Day in and day out, for hundreds of years, the poor villagers had been prostrating themselves there to ask for better harvests, more sons, and more money; in other words, relief from their suffering. To some the Goddess responded, but to most She remained mute. As in all Hindu temples of that time, a young Brahmin (someone from the highest, priestly, caste) was engaged to officiate the prayers and offerings, and to distribute ‘prasad’ (consecrated food). Chandidas, as he was called, was deeply committed to his tasks, yet he was confused by what he perceived as the Mother’s callous ignoring of Her children’s requests. “Are you really there?” he would ask the statue. “Please, please show me that you are hearing my words!”… But there was no response.

One day, as Chandidas was preparing the ‘aarti’ (offering) lights, he heard a brushing sound coming from the other side of the worship hall. Turning around, Chandidas was struck by what felt like a lightening bolt to his soul. Was it the Goddess, herself? Well, that’s been the big question for over five hundred years. Because quietly working in the corner, partially veiled, was Rami, a young woman from the village, an ‘untouchable’ (the lowest caste), sweeping the temple floors. Chandidas gasped and whispered “Radha.” Rami lowered her almond eyes saying ‘Govinda, my Lord.”

And thus began one of the most remarkable love affairs in history. Chandidas, who had never written a single line of poetry in his life, began to record his romance with Rami with an incredible outpouring of songs of the love of Radha and Krishna; songs of ecstacy, songs of anguish, in the first person voices of both God and Goddess. Perhaps Rami wrote the songs with him, for the voice of Radha emerged even stronger and more clearly than did the voice of Govinda. Of this we’ll never know.

Meanwhile, there was another voice that began to scream and howl. The power structure of the village, the political and ‘spiritual’ elders, had become enraged at this blasphemous affront to the caste system, in the heart of the very temple itself. A Brahmin and an untouchable having an illicit affair!!! And cloaking it in the language of scripture!!! An outrage beyond compare!!! The two lovers were ordered to stop seeing each other. Rami was of course fired from her job at the temple and thrown back into her life of poverty and Chandidas’ every step was watched by the unblinking eyes of the town bosses. But did this diminish the path of true love? Not one bit. In fact, as they were forced to meet in more and more secrecy, the songs of Chandidas took on an even more mystical hue, invoking as they did the illicit, mysterious nature of Radha and Krishna’s divine love. But in a small town in 15th century India, secrets could not be kept for very long. Soon, Rami was banished and Chandidas was thrown into prison. Demanded to deny his love, Chandidas simple bowed his head and proclaimed the eternal reality of ‘Radha Ramana Hari.’ Tears streaking the dust and dirt of his face, the young Brahmin fell to the prison floor chanting the glories of the divine couple: “Hare Krishna Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna Hare Hare Hare Rama Hare Rama Rama Rama Hare Hare.” What difference was there for him between his love and passion for Rami and the ‘Rasa Lila’ (divine play) of Radha and Krishna? Nothing could stop the river of love flowing from Chandidas’ very soul. And so, in the ultimate act of fear, the village elders tortured Chandidas, finally tying his limbs to four horses and tearing his youthful body apart. As his soul departed his agonized body, the villagers could heard the words: “Hare Krishna…. My Rami, My Radha!”…..

Today, centuries later, the love songs of Chandidas are still sung reverently and, yes, ecstatically, by the villagers, Bauls, and devotees of West Bengal. Praising the divine lovers, falling at the feet of the divine lovers and identifying with the undying passion of the divine lovers….. With tears of longing to feel just a drop of what Chandidas must have felt. To have just the tiniest taste of true ‘Bhakti’, true love…… I’ve seen with my own eyes these mystic Bauls singing Chandidas’ songs, dressed in patchwork robes, begging the Lord for just one crumb, pounding out rhythms on a small drum or even just a wooden table, plucking a one stringed ektara, and remembering one of the great heroes of love, Chandidas, and his beloved, Rami.