In Search of a Home

Welcome!! Swagat, Dumela, Valkommen, Jee Aayan Noo, Tashreef, Bula, Swasdee, Bienvenido, Tashi Delek. Thanks for joining me......


Friday, July 29, 2022

Update

I could simply post an old pic, an old blog. But the fact is that this year has been crazy, I have been in and out of countries again. 


Trying to settle again. NO pictures here. Just to share that travel for fun and travel as a lifestyle are two different things. It keeps you busy and things are always new. But newness is fresh and also weak. Without memories.....and sometimes it fades quicker than we know....and the older place become shinier ---because they have depth and the memories have cracks to let the light in...holes to allow for fresh air....and new permutations and combinations of making....



Saturday, July 16, 2022

When Universe Responds

 Pardon the slight delay and the break in writing. I am in transition and will share more later.

For now, I had moved to another country for a short while and am enroute--back home. 


Fuchsia: I saw the flowers for the first time in my first year in Sweden. Then, I saw them everywhere.  Next in Thailand, then in the United Kingdom and so on...



In my first year in Sweden, I had gone to Stockholm to get a visa for travel. I had to wait a few hours and I took a stroll in the beautiful gardens around the embassy.  It was May-June. I still remember what I was wearing. Long black skirt that came down to my ankles with a black blouse and white collar and cuffs. 

I walked past these giant planters and saw these flowers. I don't think I had seen them before. Or at least not noticed them before. That must be over a decade ago.

I kept asking people what the name was. You see, when we name things, we honour them. We also place a right and a relationship on it. 

No one could give me the answer.  Which is strange because they seemed to be everywhere during summer. 

Then I spent about six months in Wales, UK and found them everywhere.

About two weeks ago I was walking back home and stopped to say hello to a couple who lived a few houses down. I am strange that way.  I often talk to people with children.  They had a new born. They asked me why I was taking pics. 

'I write a blog and I just document life. And I like that garden' I pointed to the house next to them. 

'Oh, nothing to take pics of here' they lamented, 'we had a baby this year and have not had the time to fix our garden'

But a baby is more important, and prettier' I said looking at their beautiful daughter.

I asked her name. (I don't remember now).  I looked at the young 10 month old baby and said what I say to all the new borns, 'Welcome to the world.'

'This really needs some work'.  They said pointing at a large shrub.

There they were. The same flowers.

'Ah, let me ask again, even though I have never received a proper response' I thought.

'Fuchsia'

'Ah, so those are Fuchsia', I thought. 

'The name of the color comes from them, but I have seen them in so many colors, pink, white, light green'

Yeah, they nodded. 

Only a few days ago I had taken a video of the flowers and asked in my mind again, why does no one know your name...you are both popular and pretty."

It seems that this time when I spoke to the flowers, they conspired with the universe to get me the answer.

Hmm...sometimes we just need the right channels to the universe. 

We also need conviction to keep asking questions.

But mostly, we need to never give up and believe that we will have the answers, the solutions the pathways, when we least expect it.

Timing is paramount.

May you all have the patience and conviction and may your questions be answered!!

Make sure you are listening. 














Friday, July 1, 2022

Yonder Yellow In Pennsylvania!!

First published on May 14, 2012----this is here...because I have a long connection with these beautiful yellow flowers...and I see them everywhere I go...

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These yellow flowers reminded me of Pennsylvania when I first spotted them in Karlstad two years ago.  Although, in Karlstad they bloom for a very short time, in Pennsylvania they were one of the first flowers to bloom in spring.  And one would see a whole row or fence or lining by the street bright yellow, in early March.  I remember the shrubs that covered one side of the building next to the bus stop.  That splash of yellow always brightened me and I shared a private thought or two with these beings....I noticed the shrubs throughout winter and come spring I used to stop and pay my Obeisance by silently bowing to them.   If I were to use an Indian metaphor, then 'I was standing to get their darshan'.  Darshan, which refers to vision and seeing, is actually quite different from just seeing.  It actually means, 'to be seen'.  And we usually go for God's darshan or some holy person's darshan.  For in their presence we bathe in pure energy.  That is what I wanted from these flowers.  I would bow in reverence and hope that they saw me and colored me 'bright yellow'  I have attached a little write-up from my journal about these flowers.  I wrote that more than a decade ago, wondering where I was ever going to use it.....Thank Goodness for blogs!!






There are these yellow flowers that grow (are in bloom) all the time.  I mean they are perennial in the real sense of the word.  You can see them in the heart of winter, and at the peak of summer. They somewhat seem lost during the spring when you have flowers galore … but they are there when you really need them.  They are striking yellow, and they seem to grow off dried brown, almost dead and brittle stems.  I don’t know their name and don’t think I need to.  To me they signify life and live to their fullest.  So I call them “Gurus”.

During all my years in Pennsylvania, I have looked at them, enjoyed their beauty and tried to use them as my role model for inspiration.  Some time when I don’t want to use them for inspiration, and want to bury myself in sorrow and petty helplessness of my life, I shy away from looking at them.  And yet, it is then that they give up their bashfulness and stare me right in the face.  Almost throwing their minuteness in my face, they know that any second they can be crushed by a thoughtless child, or they could even stop breathing under a bird poop.  And yet they smile.  May be because they have accepted their mortality and minuteness.  In that lies their infinite existence.
                                                                                                    ------------------   journal, 1998