Tag: Be Here Now

Ram Dass: Prequel and Sequel–Surrender and Synchronicity

Kind of a loaded title–I know

But apt. So apt. Boy oh Boy.

When I closed the computer after writing On the Passing of Ram Dass, I thought that was it. I had described, as best I could, a single moment with him. An expansive, mind-blowing, transformative, yet extraordinarily simple, single moment–part of a day filled with transformative moments at the Open Your Heart in Paradise retreat on Maui in 2010.

Everyone at the retreat had such moments; seeing Ram Dass in his wheel chair approaching the dinner table that night was mine. It was as if the air reverberated with the sound of a great silent bell, and time–just stopped. That moment is a koan I carry about with me. The memory of it stops thought. It is a great gift, among many I received from Ram Dass. And so, after trying to describe that moment and the onion-peeling and surrender that happened before, it seemed my work was done: a tribute, I hoped, to the beloved, funny, brilliant, later, almost silent teacher, whose acts of devotion radically transformed spirituality and spiritual culture. And who, though that’s a story for another time, saved me from a dark hole of despair. I had never written about it before, and had talked about it to only two people. Sharing that moment with Ram Dass felt like coming out of a spiritual closet. I shut the computer. It was done. Time to return, I thought, to carrying water and chopping wood.

But then something happened.

Prequel and Sequel. In Be Here Now, Ram Dass writes about the great cosmic joke–that no matter where you think you are, you are right here, right now. You are always, already here, now.

After I completed my last post and shared it with a couple of people I thought might like to read it, I tried to put it away. Around the planet, at this moment people continue to grieve and celebrate Ram Dass; when I closed the computer that evening, I thought that was what I had done. Grieved and Celebrated. But that was not the plan.

The Prequel

For a couple of months, I had been thinking about the images my husband and I had taken on Maui. I hadn’t seen them in years. Those were early days for us of smart phones and camera apps. On Maui, we took photos on my phone and with a “real” camera. It was a period of transition for us. We had moved the year after the retreat, unplugged the computers and TV and moved fully into our new life. I kept my smart phone; he checked in at the library. For nine years I knew those pictures were somewhere, but I wasn’t worried about them. They drifted out of my consciousness. Two months before Ram Dass’ transition, I couldn’t stop thinking about them.

Buddha at the Temple on the Mala Ramp in Lahaina

Two in particular kept buzzing around my consciousness. One of us posed at the beautiful Buddhist statue at the temple near the Mala Ramp in Lahaina, and the other, the topic of my previous blog post, a photo of Ram Dass and me.

After I let my mind forget about them for a day or so, my husband found the image of us at the temple he had uploaded to facebook nine years ago and forgotten, and I found my much shared, pixilated, treasured image of me with Ram Dass. For me it is an image of lila: of how our desires manifest when we surrender, and of how what comes with those manifested desires–the shattering of time, the sudden understanding of, as Ram Dass called it, The Only Dance There Is–makes us realize the thing desired was not actually that which was desired at all, but evidence of it–which is connection, enlightenment, love.

The Buddhist Temple on the Mala Ramp in Lahaina

My husband found the first picture on October 25, Ram Dass left the body on December 22, I closed my computer on December 23. The holidays happened and my friends, both those who loved Ram Dass and those who had never heard of him, showed pictures of their trees and candles and holiday feasts. Ram Dass taught Karma Yoga, the business of getting on with life but dedicating it all. He never wanted the message to be about him or taught that his way, Bhakti Guru Kripa, was the only way. So trees, lights, feasts, Hanukkah candles–it all just goes ahead and that’s fine. It’s part of The Only Dance There Is—Grist for the Mill.

The Sequel

I was trying to be finished with my post, but it kept at me. There is this battle many of us have going on about the ego. We feel that we’re supposed to give it up. We work so hard to give it up, and of course, the working just strengthens its resolve. Because after all, who is doing all that work? And so my ego and I resolved to write no more! Well . . . maybe just this instagram post. Okay, maybe just this facebook post. It was like holding back a river.

Then on December 27, a message popped into my inbox. It was from Shutterfly. I hadn’t realized I still had an active Shutterfly account! I had barely used it (probably because I ran out of free storage) it said, “Your memories from nine years ago,” relive this memory.

It was Maui.

And the moment expanded as time stopped. There they were. And here they are. Photos I had forgotten and remembered. Lots of them. There are not too many from the retreat at Napili Kai. I was shy about taking pictures, thinking I should just be able to hold onto something so important.

Quin Withey at the Plantation Inn in Lahaina, Maui, 2010
Napili Kai Resort, Maui, 2010

Mainly they are moments with my husband that are precious. Irreplaceable images of transition and continuation. The way one mala bead leads to the next and the next and the next while in each bead we are simultaneously there and here.

And there was also, in all its unpixelated clarity, the photo of me with Ram Dass at table. And another, I never shared. Boy oh Boy. The lovely, brilliant, cosmic humor of it all. How utterly amazing. What gratitude to be included in the joke! And to be given another koan to stop my mind just when I needed it.

The beach at the Mala Ramp in Lahaina

There seemed to be a pretty clear message delivered in the Ram Dass voice of the pre-stroke days.

Write about the Whole Trip!

With Ram Dass and Dasima. The unpixelated version.

And since I’m not sure what the means yet, I’m going to close the computer lid again.

But not before I post links to the best places to find Ram Dass’ work, and to support the ongoing work of the Love, Serve, Remember Foundation. LSR has spent years and countless hours preserving Ram Dass’ work, making many of his teachings free and available for everyone, assisting Ram Dass after his stoke, and much, much more.

Visit RamDass.org to find books, films, malas, other devotional items and connect with Ram Dass Satsang. Spend time with the Be Here Now Network to listen to recordings of Ram Dass’ teachings, as well as those of Sharon Salzberg and many others.

And subscribe to Baba Ram Dass on youtube to access free recordings and videos of his teachings from the early years until now.

Finally, I should mention that there is still one more image of me with Ram Dass that is missing. I’m fine with that. Well, maybe I am. We’ll see how long the computer lid stays closed. In the meantime–

Enjoy the Cosmic Dance!

Sunset over Lahaina

Do you have experiences or thoughts about Ram Dass and this teachings or experiences of synchronicity? How have they affected your life? Share in the comments below–I’d love to share them with you.

On the Passing of Ram Dass

Being with Ram Dass now

Today is December 23, 2019 and yesterday evening, on Maui, Ram Dass dropped his body.

Today there will be many posts about Ram Dass. His life impacted millions of us searching for deeper spiritual connection–for ways through life’s drama to the light–past illusions, past despair, to hope and, as he said in Fierce Grace, to a place of contentment and self-acceptance.

The title of this blog, Beingtherenow, is an homage to Ram Dass that I set adrift in the online ocean without explanation. It seemed, and still seems, that even referring to his work, Be Here Now in a blog title was just so big a thing to do. Like trying to explain the ineffable. Yet his work informs every aspect of my life as I live it today; it helped me to realize that I could, in a literal sense, go home again. In a very tangible way, I am resting in the being there now place I always longed for–and so, the title remains, a thank you to him. And now, after many years, I set my small story of an ineffable moment with Ram Dass adrift in this little canoe for any who may happen onto it.

In a way I have known Ram Dass since I was a child. I was alive in the sixties and remember seeing black and white images of Timothy Leary and Richard Alpert on the nightly news. I wanted to be older–to be part of the Summer of Love and the feelings of freedom and new thought I sensed around me. The Civil Rights Movement, environmentalism, women’s movement, and the spiritual revolution Ram Dass brought to America informed my early life. So when I found Be Here Now on the streets of Manhattan in the nineties, I already knew it though I had never read it. I don’t think it is possible to describe the experience of reading Be Here Now. Every time I read Be Here Now, it is a different book. Each time, I am certain an image or page I am seeing was not there before. It seems to exist, as we all do, in an ever-changing eternal present.

Years intervened between that first reading. Years, as in everyone’s life, of happiness and sadness, heights and depths. Grist for the Mill.

I was emerging from a particularly dark time after a lengthy period of care-taking when I picked up Be Here Now again. And that experience–the book was all new! I stared at the brown pages, reading and re-reading. In the “Cook Book” section were methods to help me move through and past the sadness and turmoil I had been experiencing. I remember thinking, “I wonder if Ram Dass is still alive.” I didn’t know he had suffered a severe stroke; my life had moved past and now circled back. It seemed instantly, there was a short television program showing Ram Dass speaking slowly. I searched for him online and found his online Satsang; it was my first experience of a social network. This was 2009.

With Quin Withey at the Buddhist temple near the Mala Ramp on Maui

The following year I attended an Open Your Heart in Paradise retreat on Maui with Ram Dass, Krishna Das, Sharon Saltzberg, and the dedicated members of the Love Serve Remember Foundation. Because my husband and I combined the retreat with a twenty-fifth anniversary trip and spent two weeks on Maui, we stayed in Lahaina rather than at the resort where the retreat was held and I day-tripped over to the retreat for five days. I could write much about this experience, but this is not the time. Today, I want to try to describe one moment.

Mindfulness involves witnessing our “stuff”–our responses, our reactions, emotions, jealousies, joys–all the dharma drama that makes up our lives. Witnessing allows us to remember that we are something other than our thinking and doing. It allows us to step back into being. I had been working with this and with surrendering resistance pretty deeply, and at the retreat, while I wanted to descend into bliss, the gift I received (a very Ram Dass kind of gift) was the gift of more witnessing–especially of my inner introvert and needy child. Oh boy, as Ram Dass would say. There was a lot of grist for the mill there.

On perhaps day two, I realized I desperately wanted a photo with Ram Dass and felt too shy to just go get one. Now, Ram Dass had his photo taken with everyone and seemed to love doing it. This was only an issue in my own mind. I witnessed my monkey mind running all over the cage with it, “How could I be so petty; needy; silly? Just go and get the picture taken!” Ram Dass was everywhere, hugging everyone, enjoying everyone. I had received my hug and darshan of “boy oh boy.” What was my problem?

Finally I mentioned this to a friend involved in all aspects, Satsang; we laughingly agreed it would happen somehow, someway. The morning moved into a profound meditation led by Sharon Salzberg. The breezes drifted into the room which settled into a deep stillness. At some point, I heard my mind say, “This is so good. I don’t need a picture–just this.” It was a profound, yet, so easy, moment of surrender–of opening.

After meditation we all went about our day. The waves lapped, whales were spotted, the air was warm and perfect, people played in the ocean, there was much laughter. And then it was time for the evening meal. I don’t remember how I came to be sitting at that particular table, or what I was eating. I was sitting with my friend who was the person I knew best, and who is beloved by so many.

Dropping out of Time

I looked up from where I was sitting to see Ram Dass in his wheel chair being pushed toward me. Here the experience becomes difficult to describe. It seemed that I and the entire room dropped out of time as the moment expanded to encompass everything. I had a physical sensation of plummeting even as I was perfectly aware of my place in the room, sitting in my chair watching Ram Dass coming to sit beside me. It all happened in the eternal slowness of an instant.

My friend smiled, whispered for me to get up and stand beside Ram Dass and snapped a picture; it happened quickly and he was not ready with his usual gleaming smile. The original, I hope, is on a hard drive somewhere. I cherish this version which was resized as I shared it and shows us pixelated–it looks just about exactly as I felt in that beneficent, time-shattered moment.

With Ram Dass and Dasima on Maui, 2010

During the rest of the evening meal, we talked about food as people do. I gave up my seat to someone else when I had finished and went outside to sit in the beautiful, velvety darkness where time waited to return to its normal running. It waited for quite some time. Ram Dass probably never knew the profundity that moment held for me. Had he known, he would have said it was Maharajji’s lila, and so it was.

A teaching of love, and humor, surrender, and the absolute fullness of each eternal, ineffable moment.

Sub ek.

Many free teachings as well as books by Ram Dass and opportunities to donate to Ram Dass’ work are available at Ramdass.org and the Love, Serve, Remember Foundation.

Namaste–

We are all just walking each other home–Ram Dass

Do you have experiences with Ram Dass or his teachings? Share a comment below–I would love to hear them.