Like in the early ’70s when actually I was afraid of returning to India. Just 2 years before I had a difficult time at the ’69 Darshan and didn’t want to experience that again. When I heard though that Kitty was planning to ask me to go with her to India, I thought that under those circumstances I’d go. And, sure enough Kitty called up one evening to come over, she had something to ask me.

Oh Boy! While driving down Hwy 17 to Dilruba, I rehearsed how I’d respond to her invitation. Perhaps “Yes Kitty,” or “Of course Kitty!” . . .

After entering her office in Dilruba, sure enough she asked, “If I went to India would you go too?” After responding quickly with one of the lines I had rehearsed in the car, she continued, “Well of course if I don’t go, you’d still go, right? You wouldn’t go just because I’m going.”  — And, that’s how I was caught that year. (Kitty didn’t go.)

Or a few years after that, when I felt worn down by what seemed to me to be mean-spirited gossip about our infant company Sheriar Press. One night I declared, before leaving for a gathering at the Center, “If anyone looks at me funny tonight, I’m going to go to India!” — And that’s why I went that year.

Each trip has been triggered in uninspiring ways. Sometimes (from my point of view) the trips weren’t ‘great.’ And other times they were wonderful. But at all times they were His, one way or another.

Yesterday it happened again — out of the blue, but different enough that I was caught by surprise.

I was in the bookstore with Laura, the manager, and little Darwin, Tommaso and Laura’s precious new baby boy. Usually Laura would come out to my car to go over bookstore business. But the weather was so cold I went inside so Darwin could stay warm.

For months I’ve been feeling under the weather. Tired, unfocused and just not myself. Wondering if my time of being useful was over. I was at a loss how to turn this around, or even if that was possible. So when a customer in the bookstore commented on the cost of  plane tickets to India, I was surprised to find myself thinking, humm-m-m, I’ll look into that when I get home! . . . And by evening my flights were booked. Egads!

Now I’m back to feeling sluggish again. Shaking my head at the unexpected whirlwind that pierced the lethargy I’ve been in the grips of for months. Concerned that I have only one month to pull out of it before leaving.

I’m glad it happened, but worried if I am up to it. But am comforted knowing that with Baba, anything’s possible. Even . . . making a trip to India.

Probably the best thing would be to find something to do and forget about it.

But can I work while longing for Him? Do both?

Tonight it doesn’t seem so.

Guess I’ll wait. Or will be forced out of it. But if the telephone doesn’t ring, or nobody knocks on the door, I’ll remain in it, wishing for ‘more.’

. . . In the morning maybe I’ll work, when there’s something I have to do.

* * *

When I don’t have to do something, the longing is more present. Making anything that is possible in this world . . . not enough. But, all there is — a damnable dilemma. Makes working both a flimsy filler and a welcome relief.

What to do? Wait, watch TV and find things to do.

Talking about this wasn’t helping me reframe my focus. I could see only my mistake. And it was almost more than I could bear. I wondered how to see this differently? How?

And remembered years ago when the cover of a Baba book was coming off the press, I realized that I calculated the grain of the paper wrong. Which would make the fold of the spine ragged. I wanted to stop the press, reorder the paper and put it back on later. But because the books were scheduled to leave for India that week, there wasn’t any room to delay production.

I felt AWFUL. Like I had really let Baba down. Horribly. In his compassion, Andy consoled me saying, you know the book is a very good book and that’s still true. It’s only the appearance of the cover’s spine that won’t be perfect. That doesn’t diminish the enormous value of the material.

I tried seeing it that way. Realizing such practical wisdom was important to understand.

Actually it’s more than that. It’s true what Andy said brought balance back into the picture. But even more than that, these situations provide opportunities to let the work go — not ‘own’ it as mine. To give it all to Baba — both the good and the bad.

Wish I could do that without having to work so hard getting there each time. Not start out being devastated by my mistakes and then eventually easing back into His orbit by giving them to Him. The relief is enormous. But getting there, for sure, is no fun.

In a way before Baba came into my life moods were cherished companions. Seeming sacred struggles prompting deeper inroads toward God. Just part of who I was.

And actually, I’m embarrassed to say, they still are. Every once in a while though I can see that when I don’t let them take over, Baba becomes more available. Like last night. I had been in the dumps all day. But had to be at the press in the evening to okay the first press sheet for Early Messages to the West. There wasn’t really any choice but to step up to the plate despite how I was feeling. They were waiting for me.

Trish, the General Manager, and I worked with the pressman to establish a ‘perfect’ press sheet, which would be the benchmark for the rest of the run. Afterwords we reviewed the latest corrections. By the time I left, I discovered Baba was ‘back in my bones,’ and the mood was gone.

This morning when I woke up in another mood — or maybe a continuation of the one diverted last night — it was, as usual, hard not taking it seriously. With my heart gripped in sadness I struggled to resist becoming immersed in it and letting it take over. Because I had just said so, I knew it would be better not to — to just get in my car and drive around, hoping this change in venue would sever the mood’s grasp over me. . . . Not what I wanted to do, but, I gave it a shot.

. . . Now  I’m back from ‘looking at the trees,’ grimly aware of the need to remain vigilant. The mood’s not gone, just on the back burner. A seeming forever companion.

If only I could simply redirect my moods. Not take them seriously, and see them for what they are — unworthy diversions that keep me apart from Him. Not only would I be happier. But those around me would be too.

For me this is the nut of my struggle to becoming more His.

It is as if this process is enjoyable just because He makes it that way. Like chocolate is enjoyable. And sugary things. And God knows I can’t resist those treats. I’m hopeless at resisting the joy of publishing information about Baba. He hasn’t given me the nature to be still and meditate on Him. I need rulers, Photoshop, and an editing team.

Collaborating on a ‘Baba-venture’ with another person can be thrilling. Or being in the company of several Baba lovers in a gathering — a really good time. But devotees in the thousands? Millions . . . That’s a planet of a different order.

Baba’s going to have it His Way no matter what. Word about Him will grow one way or another, and the world will come into His Orbit, as He said it would. So even if I resist working at what I love to do, for what I think of as the higher purpose of keeping this small, it won’t be stopped. The oceanic force of His Plan inevitably will make it happen. I can either participate in the dance, or stand apart on ‘principles’ and be miserable. I’d rather eat the chocolate, and let what will happen happen.

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