A motherless Mother's Day

While most shared the warmth of breakfast in bed or a big brunch, lush bouquets, and endless hugs and kisses with their mothers on Sunday, I shared the warmth of the Arizona sun in the Grand Canyon with my mom. 

Mother’s Day is different and difficult for those whose moms reside in a world separate from our own. I know I must celebrate her, because that beautiful woman, whose spirit was so full of beauty that God knew she was ready for a better, more beautiful world, deserves to be cherished for passing that bountiful beauty on to me and shaping my soul and this world with it. But how? If I’m without my mother - motherless - here in this life, yet still with my mother through the connection of our spirits - then what does Mother’s Day become for me? It starts with getting creative, finding unique ways to celebrate my love for my mom. It takes this ingenuity, but also patience and peace, to remember, reflect, and rejoice in that ever present bond that connected us before, connects us now, and will connect us forever. 

To be the most completely together, experiencing and enjoying fully the connection between us, there is a lot I had to embrace first. Scrolling through social media on a day like Mother’s Day can be suffocating for the motherless. My mind naturally starts comparing what I have in my life to what I see that others have in theirs. Picturing moms and daughters so ordinarly together can quickly bring into doubt the fairness of my situation, leaving me to question why others get to experience this day with their moms so effortlessly, while I only get to be with my mom intangibly and have to labor so considerably to get there. The emotions that jealousy evoke are ugly and can spiral me into a pit of pessimism that has no place on a day where my mom deserves so much better, so much joy. This disdain, coupled with the distraction of being on social media simply serving as a hinderance to being fully present in any moment, can prove to be big blockages in that connection between us. To get ahead of this, I embraced that most Mother’s Day were going to look vastly different from mine, that every celebration is perfect in its own nature, and that I owed it to my own mom to create and center myself fully around our own distinct, just as wonderful, celebration. I sent out early Mother’s Day texts to the other important women in my life, hid my social media apps, and put my phone on Do Not Disturb for the day. This established a space for me to cultivate the right positive feelings and focus to enter into that connection with my mom. 

Another way I prepared myself was by anticipating and controlling my responses to remembering and reflection on our life together. Many times I’ve discovered our bond in different pictures and places, but have felt unsettled by it, rather than comforted. When my mind goes back to those memories, my heart sometimes can’t help but to follow. I’ve noticed that often the connection is so vivid that my heart longs for what it once had. In those moments I radiate envy, anger, and sadness, wanting so badly to have again the face-to-face conversations and body-to-body embraces that were present in those pictures and would be possible in those places. It takes disciplining the mind and taming the heart to access those moments as blessings of the past that will shape my future, rather than better times of the past that will make my future never as good as it was. I haven’t perfected control of my reactions to those moments - some memories are so remarkable that it’s hard not for the heart to elicit a raw response. Through practice I’m at least able to be aware of when I start straying from my acceptance. And when I feel myself going there, I try to remind myself which road was better - the road that’s dark and desolate where my mom is gone forever and I’m always angry and anxious and alone, or the road that’s brighter where my mom is still with me and I’m supported and loved and have hope. This Mother’s Day I chose the latter - to be with her, rather than to be without her. 

Once I mentally, physically, and spiritually readied myself for Mother’s Day, it was time to come together and celebrate! Throughout these close to 16 months without my mom here, I’ve learned a few ways to find and feel our connection. Like I said in a previous blog post, “now I find and feel her love in the sweet saxophone of a jazz melody, the coziness of curling up in a blanket to a good romcom, the smell of a thoroughly scrubbed bathroom after a cleaning, the Mariah Carey or Sade song while cooking, the Mojito or Moscow Mule on the beach, the deep red hues of a sunset, the organization of a well-structured Excel spreadsheet, the celebration of a special moment with friends and family, the meaning in the notes and journals she left behind. And of course the bounty of memories we shared in photo albums, self-captioned videos, funky scrapbooks, and deep etches left in my mind”. This Mother’s Day I added a new bonding pastime to our list - living moments from my mom’s life. When my mom was my age, in 1993, she visited the Grand Canyon with my dad. I recently saw an old scrapbook of them smiling in front of the surreal backdrop of the valleys, in awe of the astounding piece of the world they were experiencing at that moment. When I was at the canyon, I imagined her peering over the same picturesque places in the park, and being overcome by the same aura of peace. I connected with her in that moment through our shared serenity, stringing our separate moments together into one combined extraordinary experience. This made it so that she was there with me, rather than someplace else watching down on me or not present after the fact for me to call or text to express our experience in words or pictures. There was no explanation necessary -  in that moment, I was feeling what she was and she was feeling what I was. Our bond surfaced stronger than any Mother’s Day before. We were one in the same, connected beyond brunches and flowers and hearts and worlds and time altogether - we were connected as souls. 

I know you felt my immense gratitude in that moment mom. But, I have to brag to the world about the beautiful being you are for me, too - because those that didn’t know you, should, and those who come after you - especially your grandkids - will, I promise. You continue to inspire me to be the best version of myself, informing and influencing every grand milestone in my life, and every small moment in between - you are with me, sharing your love with me and motivating me to be better. Both with your careful care and your forceful fortitude, I feel your delicate hand guiding me lightly with patience when I need compassion, but also your bold and brave direction pushing me strongly when I need encouragement. Throughout, I hear you continuing to cheer me on during the good and the bad. Every redeeming quality you’ve passed on to me and life lesson you’ve taught me is a brick in that wall of my support that I will continue to lay the mortar for, so that you don’t have to anymore - so that you can be free, as you so definitely deserved. Having eternal happiness is far greater than any temporary happiness we would have shared together on a Mother’s Day here. With the strength and wisdom you have manifested and continue to grow in me, I know that. You are, still, the greatest mom a daughter could ever wish for. I love you just as much today, as I did before, and as I always will. Happy Mother’s Day Mommy.

The whispers of death - motivational and skeptical

In my last post, I talked about how death brings a certain passionate tenacity to experience and enjoy the depths of life. For the ones that death leaves behind, to continue living, there’s a startling reality amidst every moment of every day, that it could be the last. If your brain tires of protecting you, your mind wanders back to visions of your loved one on their deathbed, forcing their last powerless breaths in and out, reaching stronger towards a powerfully better place. In those visions a lurking voice whispers of the truth in your ear. “It’s all gone one day.” On a day completely unknown to us, completely out of our control. “It’s all gone within seconds.” Full of life in one breath, lifeless in the next breath. They’re the revelations that come “from looking death square in the face, from being a front-seat witness to the spirit taking its last breath in its human vessel and vanishing just a split second later leaving the body cold and lifeless, from not being able to turn away from this blunt boldfaced reality that we all do leave this Earth”. Those whispers are guidance, sometimes even unwanted scolding, that force you to stop and think, if not also force you to action. 

Part of those whispers are motivational. In my reflections from losing my mom, I spoke of this new “joy” and “enthusiasm” within me that not only carries me, but uplifts me, through my journey. How I find myself more effortlessly getting the dessert at dinner, more celebratory of the little things, more encouraged to try the novel hobby. I didn’t, however, speak of the other less innocent face of those whispers - part of them are skeptical.

At times, the notions of “life doesn’t last forever” take a turn from inciting optimism to inciting doubt. The whispers shift from “Do the thing!” to “Are you doing the right thing?”. They put into question your priorities and your decisions. Everything from “Should I be spending 8 hours, one-third, of every day, working somewhere I don’t love?” to “Am I maximizing my time with my loved ones?” to “Could I be using my money better to enjoy for now, instead of saving for later?”. When you see death up close, you realize how close it is to you. How you could be next. I don’t mean literally Thanatophobia, the psychological fear of dying, that might lead you to question if you’ll die walking across the street or if you’ll die leaving your house in a thunderstorm. The whispers don’t necessarily bring a fear of death itself. It’s actually the opposite - a straightforward acceptance of death that, rather, brings a fear of living. Living the right way. Living the optimal way. Not only because you know you will die, but because you know from the suffering that death brings, that at some time in your path of life there will be pain. And until pain comes, again, you want to experience and enjoy the greatest amount of pleasure humanly possible. You have an innate desire to prioritize and maximize your utility of happiness to a level that is the most advantageous, most ideal, for every second of the limited amount of time that you have before the next pain, and before your next life.

This skepticism can create a better life. It can draw light to inefficiencies in your daily living that weren’t providing joy or that were limiting your potential of joy and spark the measures needed to swap out the bads and mediocres with greater goods, giving more to your vitality. But it can also be harmful. It can prove to be an overly cynical view at times, bringing uncertainty to the certain. It can cause undue anxiety and angst over pieces that are placed just as they should be in the bigger puzzle of your life. I feel often that I should be doing everything in my power at all times to experience and enjoy the depths of life, all of the time. And when I can’t, I feel anger and annoyance that I’m not taking advantage of the positive potential of every moment. So when I’m upset, I get even more upset. “Why are you still spending almost half your day working, instead of living to the fullest?”, “Why aren’t you spending more time with family, more time traveling, more time pursuing your passions?” - “Would you be happier?”. The rethinking, reanalyzing, reassessing, drains not only your mental fortitude but your fortitude to be in the present, enjoy the present, and be appreciative of the present. You lose your gratitude for your current state, when you’re constantly thinking about how the current state could be better, more optimal. You lose your love for your life when you manifest “Would I be happier?”, rather than “How happy am I?”.

Surrender all actions to me,

And fix your reason on your inner self;

Without hope or possessiveness,

Your fever subdued, fight the battle! BG 3:30

Men who always follow my thought,

Trusting it without finding fault,

Are freed,

Even by their actions. BG 3:31

The Gita says, to lose the appreciative awareness for the exact position you are at in your journey, because you’re comparing yourself to the speculation of another journey, whether that’s the fantasy of your own or the envy of someone else’s, is a lack of trust in your own story and the author of your story. It’s a disservice to the beautiful intentionality of your life, the beautiful uniqueness of your soul; to find fault and to hope to stray from that specific story is a shame, as there’s so much beauty in the reason behind exactly how you’re living and what you’re living for. Even though you can’t always see the reason, God asks you to try to trust that reason he created so precisely for you and your purpose. 

The verse says you should think, act, and behave with faith. Whoever you are, wherever you are, whatever you are doing - you are, because you are meant to be. Surrender your thoughts about your actions, your actions themselves, and the results of those actions. Let go of the desire you have to act perfectly, to pursue and perform the perfect life. Free your mind by accepting each action for the underlying benefit that it will have for your inner self, the growth that it will bring for your soul. Even though you didn’t smile or laugh or enjoy as much when you were upset, you may have learned something new about yourself, your life, or your faith, that was far more important for your entire journey, not just this finite one. Zoom out from your focus on this specific life to a wide-angle view of your many, many lives. A maximization of happiness for your spirit is far more significant, as it’s long-lasting and eternal, than a maximization of happiness for your life, your temporary body. Surrender to your life today, for the satisfaction of your soul forever.

So, when those whispers come, invite them in to inspire the joy and enthusiasm, while restraining them to inspire the skepticism and doubt. Balancing wanting more for your life tomorrow with seeing more in what your life already is today. I’ll challenge myself to make sure I have an instinctual pulse on my priorities and to make improvements where I can and should to live fuller. But, I also won’t overly interrogate my place in the world today and write off that I’m not living fully, as I am. When I start to think, “should I quit my job?”, I’ll tell myself I have people left to impact and to be impacted by, at work and as a result of the work I do. When I ponder “should I be spending more time with my friends and family?”, I’ll remember that each of us growing individually is just as important as us growing together. When I stumble upon the thought “could I be learning more traveling the world?”, I’ll remind myself what I would learn diving deep into a sea of new culture, cuisine, and scenery, may not be as abundant or as transformative as what I’m learning diving deep into a sea of grief, right here, right now. 

Knowing what I know about the reality of life and death, I should recall and rejoice in the fact that this point in time, today, won’t come again. Tomorrow I’ll be at the next step, a different step, in my journey. And one step closer to it concluding. That temporariness, that finality, should result in a casting away of any skeptical thinking and doubtful questioning. And a calling to submerging myself into this very minute - into optimistically receiving and respecting this monumental moment for the essential part it plays in the rise of my soul.

Surrender to your story, just as it is.

Have patience in your purpose, just as it is.

Love your life, just as it is.

Drawing by Betsy Gallier (@creative_shack)

Reflections from losing my mom in 2021

2021 has been the most impactful year of my life. It had within it the most painful moments I’ve ever experienced. Days where my mind, my heart, (and my eyes – definitely my eyes) were blurred and blinded by grief’s tears of crippling confusion. On those days, I hadn’t just lost my mom. I had also lost my ability to see, to love, and to believe. My connection to, not only my mom, but to my purpose, God, and the truth about life all slipped away and into an inaccessible and incomprehensible abyss. Not only my usual drivers and joys of and in life, but also my deep understanding of and faith in the world were in the fray. In 2021, I lost a lot. I was, and I still am, lost.

If you become conscious of Me, you will pass over all obstacles of conditioned life by My grace. If, however, you do not work in such consciousness but act through false ego, not hearing Me, you will be lost. BG 18:58

I shared this verse with my mom in 2016, when she was first diagnosed with her cancer. I actually got the verse, BG 18:58, engraved on a dainty gold bracelet for her, that year, on her 50th birthday. I wanted to remind her every day that no matter what her body, what Swati, was facing, that if she remembered the truth – of the power and extent of her soul and the Supreme soul, that she would pass through all that the cancer, and this life, would put her through. The verse acknowledges that it’s much easier to succumb to the suffering and let the human emotions that come with pain overcome you – to find solace in the helplessness and fear and rage and envy and sadness, and to be debilitated into inaction over the false ego-centered idea of “why me”, thinking that you’re in this forever and that you’re in this alone. To be lost. But, at the same time the verse states that you can cut through those powerful mental obstacles with the ax of spiritual wisdom, controlling your wild negative thoughts with instead ideas of the limitlessness, eternality, and unaffectedness of your soul and God’s beautifully specific intent for your soul. And that you can surface that truth that is already and always within you, infusing it into your mind and heart, and feel lost no more.

Now, mom, it’s my time to become conscious. My time to wear the bracelet. My time to overcome lostness, instead of letting it overcome me. And my time to begin awareness, gratefulness, and happiness.

The powerful opportunity I had to lay your ashes to rest in India just a few days ago, gave me the confidence and courage to continue on with this consciousness. It reinvigorated within me the truth that you are not dead, but liberated. Not gone, but free. Not worse, but better. When I scattered the last remains of your physical body in this world, I enlivened your soul to finally fully flourish elsewhere no longer attached to your afore suffering self, to your previous ego of Swati. And I enlivened my soul to press forward here no longer attached to who you were, but to who you are now. At the scattering ceremony I learned that it is not enough to let the deceased go at the time of death. I gave you my full support to take your last breath, I even pushed the button to cremate your body after. But it’s also an active process of letting you go from my mind in life after your departure. Not letting go of memories, but letting go of my longing for your physical presence to return to my life now. To allow you to be at that ultimate bliss that you’ve always deserved, it is not enough for you to go be at peace, I, too, have to remove the shackles of physical attachment from your soul, and be at peace, too. The physical departing of your body into the holy waters of your ancestral earth was a spark, a great big step in the right direction, to giving you that complete freedom - to no longer keep you here, hovering around your past life, and to instead encourage you to live your new life - happy in heaven. And now, moving forward one year later and beyond, I have to do my best every day to remember that truth and use it to sever the strong desires in my mind and heart - those powerful obstacles and wild thoughts - that might draw and tether your beautiful free soul back to the painful constraints of your past life. Because I love you, I must, and I will. As BG 18:58 says, I will with the strength of consciousness.

In the spirit of that positive awareness – in 2021, while my body suffered, my soul surged. Even on those days of grave devastation when my heart yearned for something so fundamental and familiar as a mother’s love, that it could so frustratingly, permanently never have again or when my mind was overwhelmed to the point of not being able to function in the basic social, professional, and personal capacity with unanswerable and unbearable questions of why. Even when I felt like another cry or yell, another painful day of life, was setting me back. From looking death square in the face, from being a front-seat witness to the spirit taking its last breath in its human vessel and vanishing just a split second later leaving the body cold and lifeless, from not being able to turn away from this blunt boldfaced reality that we all do leave this Earth, and all the agony that it brings in its backlash – I was getting somewhere, my soul was getting somewhere. Unbeknownst to my body, to my mind and my heart, my soul was gaining some of the best virtues this universe has to offer.

Grief is a long journey - I have a long way to go to fully reach the big rocks like acceptance and peace. Many of these virtues I haven’t even realized yet, maybe I won’t know them for years and years to come. But what I have seen in life this year, and now in my soul, I would like to share so that others might also see their own souls and find and form their own truths to lead them through their life with a refreshed fortitude, appreciation, and serenity.

• Joy. Get the dessert. Enjoy today, tomorrow is not promised. Travel to the place on your bucket list this year. Not next year, not in five years, not when the busy season is over, not when the kids are older, not “when you have more time” – because you might not have that time. Death brings with it a frank reality that is concealed and convinced by the idea of the “invincible and immortal individual” that this generation’s media, capitalism, and science touts – a reality that you don’t have the forever you assume you do here in this life and in this world. Today, this moment, is all that is assured. What do you want to be doing in that moment, want to be in that moment – if it’s your last? Eat the dessert – the gain of a few calories doesn’t trump the indulgence of sharing a mouthful of warm decadence with your friends or family at a dinner turned to priceless memory that you remember for years to come. Take the trip – the falling behind on a work project you won’t remember the name of doesn’t trump the enriching experiences of learning a new culture, enjoying new delicacies, and expanding your soul with new knowledge of the world. Try the thing you’re interested in – the extra hours making sourdough from scratch, hitting the punching bag, or spinning the pottery wheel might result in a passion that brings more fulfillment than your current way of life. It could even turn from pastime to a fulltime job – you won’t know if you don’t try, and there’s no better time to try than today. My mom didn’t know her end would come so soon, so suddenly. First the cancer took her ability to enjoy solid food, then liquids, and at the end even water. She used to urge me to eat pizza and apple pie (her favorites) and just sit and watch to even get a sliver of indirect enjoyment through me. At one random and swift moment, that ability to enjoy herself, through her own senses, was ripped away, permanently. The disease deteriorated her health further with fatigue overtaking her body into a state where she could no longer travel. Greece, Cape Cod, Yellowstone, and Sedona were all cut short from her bucket list. The pottery class didn’t get its checkmark either. If we had expected those cruelties, those early endings to so many basic pleasures of life, and then to life itself, how many desserts would we have ordered, how many trips would we have taken, how many hobbies would we have tried – together? Maximize the pleasure you experience in your limited time here. The chance for happiness tomorrow, even for life tomorrow, is not guaranteed - do what will bring you satisfaction, today.

• Enthusiasm. Toast to each life milestone, even the small ones. The annuals – birthdays, anniversaries, holidays. The new chapters – the new city, the new home, the new car, the new baby, the new spouse, the new job. But also the seemingly small things – paying off your last student loan installment, each bonus, a first date that went well, a friend-iversary, getting the courage to book your dream vacation, scoring lottery tickets to see your favorite sports team. When I got my first promotion, I went into my mom’s room and told her the good news. Even though, to me, it felt like a small amount, she jumped up and down with joy and hugged me in a tight embrace for what she saw as a big success. I could feel the pride for me in her smile beaming into my soul. She was insistent that we had to go out and celebrate. I didn’t know that would be the first and last promotion I enjoyed with my mom. Maybe she did. I’ll always have contentment in my heart when I think back to that first promotion. Life is tough – we do our duties day in and day out, and we face a lot of painful negative moments in those duties along the way. We deserve to bathe in the elation of each and every positive milestone with the partners that walk our life journeys with us.

• Hope. Leave your heart open. Even if its broken, it doesn’t mean it can’t mend. Find love again. In new ways. Let that new love serve as the bandages that heal the wounds of loss that cut deep into your heart. Let that new restoration and protection of your heart bring your heartbeat back, maybe even to a new rhythm, with a new vigor and vitality. It can be from a new source altogether - a new friend, a new child, a new pet, a new partner. Or even a renewal of love from someone that is already a part of your life. It can even be a re-imagination of love from a loved one that’s passed from your life. I’ve been robbed of the love I knew from my mom - tight embraces, stern scoldings, thoughtful birthday cards and penpal letters, long spiritual discussions about life that carried on late through the night. Familiar guidance and support through familiar hugs and words. I won’t have that love, in those ways, again here in this life. It’s the way things had to be, it’s the way things are and will be now. I was left with a choice - have no love from my mom or find my mom’s love again in new ways. Somewhere through the misery of this year, I decided I couldn’t deprive myself any longer. To survive, I needed my mom - we all need our mother’s love. Now I find and feel her love in the sweet saxophone of a jazz melody, the coziness of curling up in a blanket to a good romcom, the smell of a thoroughly scrubbed bathroom after a cleaning, the Mariah Carey or Sade song while cooking, the Mojito or Moscow Mule on the beach, the deep red hues of a sunset, the organization of a well-structured Excel spreadsheet, the celebration of a special moment with friends and family, the meaning in the notes and journals she left behind. And of course the bounty of memories we shared in photo albums, self-captioned videos, funky scrapbooks, and deep etches left in my mind. The new love may not be as good, but it’s something, and something feels better than nothing. Give your heart the love it deserves, the love it needs. And don’t lock your heart away from fear of it being broken again. In one of the notes my mom wrote to me at the time of her death, she told me the one and only thing she wished for me was to “start my life” (capitalized, bolded and underlined twice). She knew her death would take a great toll on me, having been so reliant on her resilient love for me. She knew I might close myself and my love off from the world in protest with a deep longing for what was and a deep fear for what could be - simply stay put, paralyzed, in the comfort of my family’s home and affection. She urged me to keep my heart open with hope - to instead find the powerful joys of a new love, of a new soulmate. Of a partner. I know her soul is so content now that her baby girl is almost a year into finding and falling in love with a man that, per her wishes, “sees her for the special person she is”. The greatest growth in life comes from loving – and that means from the pain that loving brings too. Embrace it. Not knowing if love will last long with the reality of unknown mortality is not a reason to not love, it is just the reason to love faster and to love harder.

• Composure. Let the little things go. Let go of the guy who cut you off, the waitress that messed up your order, your Uber being late. Something so insignificant doesn’t deserve the limited time in your life to live significantly. The last year we spent together, we gained this outlook knowing and experiencing how bad life was through the cancer - could anything be worse than the unbearable physical pain, the uncontrollable unknowing, the unbound disturbance to our lives? No silly fight was worth the limited patience and energy we were fighting so hard to conserve to fight the cancer. Sure, you can’t control what events occur in your life, but you can control how they affect you – you can control the weight you let it bear on your mind that you work so hard to keep resiliently optimistic and going. We’re all human, and things will upset us. When it does break through your control and troubles your thoughts, don’t let it sit there for long. It shouldn’t bring another second of bad energy lingering around in your brain than it already did in its occurrence in the first place. Focus on the truth. Especially let go of the anxieties and frustrations you bring home from work. At the time of death, you leave behind your careers and all the money you stressed about for them – all of your clothes, cars, jewelry, homes, and possessions. If you fight with your loved ones, say sorry, say I love you, and move on. You don’t know how much time you have with them. And they’re the ones that matter – don’t let the daily pains of life that don’t matter impact the precious time you have together.

• Love. Tell your people you love them, and tell them often. In the instant before your soul departs, your love is what you remember. The friendships you made, the families you were a part of. They’re what’s important. They’re the single greatest driver for growth in the soul. You don’t count the cars in your driveway, the awards in your office, or the money in your bank account. You recount the experiences you had, the memories that you made, the learnings you shared, together, with the people that are likely surrounding you on that death bed - we were blessed to have this beautiful opportunity with my mom. Every time you leave the house, say I love you – the world’s unpredictability leaves in question when, even if, you will see your loved ones next in this life. Not having expressed the fullest extent of your compassion for them and the bond you share together through every positive experience, you wouldn’t want to be gone from their lives on the wrong note, reflective of only some meaningless moment of argument. Communicate your love whenever you get the chance, you don’t know when your last chance will be.

• Steadfastness. You can and will surmount any pain. When your mind and heart tell you no, remember you are not your body, you are your soul, and your soul can and will conquer anything in front of it. Your mind may be confused, your heart may be broken, but your soul is unaffected. And that soul will keep on going, here in this life, facing each and every pain that its meant to, until it’s meant to no more. My mom’s fight concluded, my fight continues. And just as she did, my soul will fight as long as God intends for me to.

• Sincerity. Share your experiences. Someone out there is going through something too. Connect with each other, learn from each other. From the viewpoint of those trying to support the grieving, it’s difficult. Hard to understand, because you haven’t felt that sort of pain before. Or maybe you have and you want to speak from your own experiences but you don’t want to make it about you, or sympathize instead of empathize, or ask too many questions that might evoke emotions and tears, or just say the wrong thing. Speak from your soul – say what feels right from where your soul has been. If you’ve faced some kind of pain, share it. When you try to contrast your hardships instead of equate them, or conceal them altogether, you miss an opportunity to form a bond and transform an individual experience into a collective journey. Feeling accompanied, not alone, through your distress can make all the difference. From the vantage point of those who are grieving, it’s bad enough they’ve lost the physical presence of their loved one, they don’t want them to be erased from their lives too. Often bringing up the dead feels taboo – that it shouldn’t be talked about in fear of making the conversation awkward. But my mom is my mom forever. Just because she’s gone in the physical sense doesn’t mean she should be gone from my interactions in the social, professional, and personal sense as well. When I’m asked about my family, she should still come up every time. I’ve noticed myself only stating my living loved ones, due to the mystic nervousness that I’ve felt death wedges into discussions. And to address her as a part of my life I shouldn’t just generalize her down to the phrase “she passed” – I should say “before she passed she was a successful manager, an avid crafter, a dedicated book clubber, a creative journaler, and a key supporter of me, my career, and my passions as well”. I should mention my celebration of her life openly – her birthday, her death anniversary, her wedding anniversary – with a happy nostalgia, not a melancholy yearning. You should still celebrate your loved ones who have died, expressing their deaths freely, on momentous occasions and in daily dialogue – if you don’t, you risk losing touch with them and their unique role in your life. You also risk potentially losing touch with those who are present in your life, isolating yourself into thinking you are going through what you are by yourself, instead of connecting over our suffering alike. And worst of all, you take away the chance for the world to continue to know them, honor them, and love them.

With most of these virtues I’ve just skimmed the surface. Some experienced, but not yet entirely understood. Some understood, but not yet mastered. Some altogether not yet encountered. There will be hard days, maybe even the hardest days yet. My brain won’t stop throbbing and my heart won’t stop breaking in pain of losing my mom. But those tough days will hold beautiful new moments for the body, beautiful new learnings for the mind, and beautiful new virtues for the soul. I just have to remain conscious that only with pain can I meet the beauty.

Let’s be thankful for being lost, for being able to find ourselves again. Let’s reflect, remember, and rejoice in not only what impactful gifts 2021 has brought our souls, and where we got to, but also where we have left to go. Not only the power our souls have today, from our pasts, but the potential of our souls from our futures.

Mommy - for the opportunities you have and continue to bless me with, thank you, and I love you, always.

---

P.S. In 2022, I’m committing myself back to my purpose – my passion to help others find their own purposes. I’ll be sharing more of my journey, the bad and the good, in hopes of supporting someone else’s journey. I’ll be continuing on my mission set forth from The Everyday Gita. More writing, more videos, maybe even start a podcast, newsletter, or live stream. I started with a Twitter account to voice soundbites of my raw thoughts. I’d love to know how my words have helped you so far. And what topics, what content, and what platforms would help you through this year. Please leave a comment or send me a message! <3

Mom - I'll miss you, but I'm happy for you

On January 14th, the auspicious day of Uttaran when any departing soul is said to surely arrive in heaven (BG 8:24), my mother Swati Shah passed away from this world, to a better one. I wrote the following speech to rejoice in, both, her impact here and her outcome at eternal peace. Many that attended the funeral asked me to share these words as a lasting toast to her legacy. Let’s all take a moment to miss mom, to miss our dear Swati, but to also be happy for her beautiful soul.

Mom,

How much do we all have to remember you for today – I don’t think any of us know really where to begin. The memories you made with us, the laughs you shared with us, the advice you gave us, the strength you showed us, the impact you made on us – it’s so immense, and I promise you, will be so long-lasting. And the beauty of your spirit – it’s so profound its hard to even put into words. But I’ll try my best. So that we can celebrate your life here on Earth and your departure and liberation to God.

First, to remember and rejoice in your legacy here on Earth. In your obituary, I tried to describe your nature in a collection of adjectives. It was hard to encompass you but here is what I had:

-       Friendliness – everyone I’ve talked to since your departure has noted how wonderful of a friend you were. How loyal. How you went above and beyond to make everyone feel always considered, included, and loved. You never left anyone out. You always saw the best in people – you didn’t care to dwell on the weaknesses of anyone, you only cared to see their strengths and their beauty. And you were so thoughtful. You never missed a birthday, anniversary, new addition to the family, new departure from the family, thank you, or congratulations when it was due. You were the first to ask how others were doing, even when you were going through the worst of suffering yourself. And from plenty, I’ve heard that you checking in the way you did really changed many bad days to good ones. And that’s just over texts and phone calls. Let’s not forget the impact of your smile and how it could literally light up, not just the day, but the room, the souls of others, and the world around you.

-       Accountability – people could trust you. Trust you to get any job done big or small, trust you with their personal sentiment and secrets, trust you to be completely honest and give it to you straight, but more importantly, just trust you to be there. To listen. To help. To take action. To support. To love. People could always count on you.

-       Generosity – you gave without expecting anything in return. And you always gave. You gave money to charity and those less fortunate, you gave your full attention and intelligence to work, you gave your full love and support to each one of us, you would probably give the shirt off your back too if we let you. You never kept tally, of who would give back – text back, gift back, love back. You just gave what you had to the rest of the world, and if you had more I’m sure you would have given that too.

-       Passion – you did everything in this world with such vigorous passion. Every project you undertook was impressively planned, executed, and always finished to perfection. Your attention to detail was impeccable. Some may mistake your particularity for obsessiveness and control, or your intensity for anger. But those who really know you, know that this was just the passion that naturally bubbled inside you and exploded onto every canvas, journal, sewing machine, microphone, or PowerPoint that you came into contact with. With this passion, you did everything in life to the fullest possible extent. The quilts you made for each new baby in the family were sewn with love in each stitch. We could all feel your enthusiasm for life in the warmth of each one of them. Your writing was straight from your heart – intelligent, truthful, thought-provoking, and let’s not forget flawlessly edited. Just amazing. You danced like no one was watching (even when everyone was because damn those moves were good!). When you traveled you immersed yourself, you learned and you appreciated. When you prayed you did with your whole heart, offering your whole soul to God. When you spoke, we listened, because we were both commanded and serenaded by the sincerity of your words. And after you, we will continue to use your passion as an inspiration to live our lives to the same absolute fullest extent in everything we do too.

-       Optimism – you held so much hope in your heart. Throughout your journey with this cancer, you clung to that hope and manifested it within yourself and all of us. You found it within you to trust him so completely. While we all did shed tears together and in anger ask “why us”, you always brought us back to the thought that we could do it, that we would triumph together. And that didn’t mean “winning” or “beating” the cancer to you. It meant just getting through it together, just continuing together – continuing to have faith, to laugh, to be. You always saw the glass half full. You always were grateful for being surrounded by your loved ones in this time, for an amazingly caring medical care team at University of Maryland, for an incredibly understanding workplace at NRL for donating countless weeks and months of leave, for an unbelievable always-on support system, for God by our sides at every step. Even at the end, you did not lose hope when things got really bad. You had such firm resolve in God. You continued to fight, you did not give up, you listened to God and his intention and carried forward with his plan for your soul and for all of us. You were always optimistic that God would do the next right thing for you – and at the end he did, he liberated your soul and assured you he would keep us all okay down here.

-       Sacrifice – you suffered so much in this life to give us peace. Even though you were humble, deep down you knew your worth - you knew how special you were and how much of a loss the world would face without you in it. You knew your friends, co-workers, nieces and nephews, cousins, sister, parents, husband, kids could not live without you for a while. Until you had departed all of your wisdom fully on them, you hung on. And you sacrificed, for us, for all of us. It was beautiful to feel that loved, that you literally went to hell and back for all of us. Now with what you have taught us, it is our turn. Now, we will sacrifice, by living without you, for your peace.

-       Love – I don’t know how to express your love. Physically it made you feel so warm. Mentally it made you feel so safe. Spiritually you were always holding my hand, spiritually we were never alone. You were so maternal, not just to me, to everyone. You cared for others like your own children, selflessly and unconditionally. You believed in us, and that was one of the best loves of all. You took so much time to give careful advice, and even if we didn’t listen and even if we failed, you would never judge us, you would listen, spend more time guiding us, and work with us relentlessly until we saw the higher standard you had set for us and were encouraged to get there. No matter what, you pushed us to be the best versions of ourselves, you didn’t let us back down from who we could amount to being. That support was constant. That was real love.

-       Faith – finally, faith. I always told you, you were my soulmate. I felt so close to you. When I was 11 years old, I started asking you questions about why things were the way they were in life. Through to today, at 23, you continue to help me find the answers. You showed me God, you showed me His reason and intention, and you showed me how to love Him. You showed me my purpose and duty – you showed me my soul. You showed me how to always believe in something bigger than yourself and how that’s the way to happiness in life. I watched you live your entire life that way – with the truth that “everything happens for a reason” at the center. You will always be my soulmate. We were and always will be one in the same. Beyond sharing our love for life, we shared our love for God – and a love that powerful is absolutely permanent. I will continue to pray, meditate, and write to God – loving Him just as you showed me. And while you won’t be here with us, I will always be connected to you, and to Him, and since you are with Him now wherever I find Him, I will find you too.

So now that we’ve celebrated your legacy in this world, let’s finally celebrate your arrival in heaven. Your journey’s culmination as the best possible outcome. At absolute peace!

You heard everything you did for us, for this world. Your soul learned everything that God had intended for any soul to learn in this cycle of life. In this life alone, and in such a short time of 54 years, your soul gained so many virtues to become complete with wisdom - of which friendliness, accountability, generosity, passion, optimism, sacrifice, love, and faith are just a few. Of course, we will miss you emanating those traits and influencing our own lives with that wisdom. But we have also gained a portion of those traits within us from just being blessed enough to be accompanying you during your time here. And with your presence we’ve built the foundation of wisdom from you to carry us through our own lives and to carry on your legacy. For those learnings that will carry on with our souls, and yours, we are thankful.

And because you’ve learned all that there is to in life, it is your time to be done with life, and done with the suffering that comes with it. You’re finally freed from your ego, duty, and the uncontrollable waves of emotions and their weight on your senses. You leave behind unpredictability, turmoil, change, physical pain, and all that is not promised. You also leave me behind, us behind in this suffering alone. I’m incredibly sad that you will not be able to enjoy my wedding, my kids, my life with me – and that you will not be able to be my light to guide me through the darkness of adversity that I will face. But as a soul yearning to learn and manifest selflessness, something I actually starting learning from and with you 2 years ago, I am going to for at least today not be selfish. I am not going to want you, here in this world to continue suffering for me. Just so that I do not feel alone. I’m going to trust in what you taught me, to be strong, for your soul. And be happy for your peace. For your eternal happiness. With that strength from you and from God, I will find happiness here again, and I will still share it with you through the permanent connection between us. But today isn’t about my happiness, its about your happiness. You reaching a place far better than here, a beautiful heaven that transcends all we can understand. This is what you deserved for never shying away from the suffering that was thrust upon you at all stages of your life – you dug deep and optimistically took each obstacle as the opportunity that it was to learn more about the depths of life, the depths of your soul, and the depths of God. And now you will enjoy something deeper than it all.

And for that, I have to show you the same joy you would show me if I found happiness here. On your death bed, you told me your only wish for me was to be happy. After all, you loved me enough to suffer through an extra almost 5 years to make me, keep me, and see me happy with your companionship. And likewise, because I love you the same (I think I love you more, but you told me that was impossible), I only want for you to be happy too. So today and for as long as I can muster the strength, I will do my best to be happy for you finally getting to be happy. And the two of us will be happy together.

I will always be your daughter here in this life. And beyond this life, I will be your soulmate forever. We will meet again up there one day. I love you Mom.

A time of not just isolation, but introspection

Today I write to you, unfortunately, not with a story from our giving journey - India is on a national lockdown until May 3rd, 2020, so we’ve had to temporarily pause our food donation and distribution efforts. Instead, I’ll attempt to uplift you with a story from the Gita. One that we can remember and relate to in these trying times.

When like a tortoise that draws in its limbs from all directions, he withdraws all his senses from the sense-objects, his mind becomes steady. BG 2:58

It’s a normal day. You’re greeted by the loud sirens and buzzing vibrations from your phone yelling at you for oversleeping. You rush to work. You take call after call, meeting after meeting. It’s 2pm - did you really forget to eat lunch? Before you know it, the day’s over and you’re b-lining it to your car to beat rush hour. Wow, it was this sunny outside? Sitting in traffic consumes the last shred of patience you had left. Finally home. You’re feeling drained so you UberEats Chipotle. What’s new on Netflix? Oh, so that’s who Carole Baskin is! You glance up and it’s dark outside. What time is it? Time for bed, I guess. Time for tomorrow.

We all get consumed by the rhythm of life. The sun rising each morning as our metronome keeps us on schedule and moving - almost hypnotically. We get wrapped up in working and eating and sleeping and repeating. Filling in the gaps between the time requires energy we just don’t have. So we resort to what’s effortless - checking Instagram or turning on the TV. Following the same routine everyday feels easier than thinking up new exciting ones. It works, it’s fine.

Sometimes it takes a disruption in our rhythm to not just feel fine, but feel good. A disruption is, by definition, “a disturbance which interrupts an event, activity or process”. As we were running down the path of life, 100 miles an hour, God stuck his foot out and tripped us. As we tumbled into the dirt, we felt shaken up and in disarray. We’ve been rudely interrupted, in fact halted altogether in a multitude of ways. But why? And how do we get back up and keep moving? On the ground, we sit and we think. Only through an interruption like this can we pause. And only through pause can we reflect.

When we’re stuck on repeat, day in and out, we don’t get this opportunity. With COVID-19, God gave us the opportunity - the opportunity to feel good. By being interrupted, we’ve been given the opportunity to be awakened.

But “we can’t go out”, they say. “We can’t go to the movies or the salon or the gym or the mall or the bar - we can’t go anywhere”. Yes, we can’t. And it’s frustrating that we’re forced off our paths, our lives. It’s infuriating that something grabbed a hold of our metronome and flat-out broke the stem. Our rhythm is off. And, it’s uncomfortable.

But, what about what we still can do? What about not having the courage to change our routines - don’t we finally have the time to spice things up? What about no hour-long commutes in traffic? What about less light and air pollution, healing our dear Mother Earth? What about online food delivery services - that can still get us pizzas and pad thai to our doorsteps? What about spending more time with our families - what about how happy our dogs are right now? What about taking long walks - and what about the weirdly high amount of calories long walks burn? What about indulging in old closeted hobbies like drawing, playing Sims, or journaling? What about Zoom happy hours with friends we hadn’t talked to in months? What about finally being able to take a hold of life, instead of it always taking a hold of us?

With all of our time indoors in isolation, it’s become easier to be the tortoise. We can, at last, turn away from the world, and turn inwards. We can tune out from the constant noise and tune in to our constant selves. We can introspect and invent our routines, how we’ve always wanted to. We can take care of ourselves in ways we didn’t think we could before - filling our time with that novel smoothie recipe, a once daunting online yoga class, or a meaningful conversation with family over a, real, dinner. We can feel refreshed and rejuvenated with new stimulation - and maybe that’s something fresher than social media and screen time. We can shatter through the mundane surface of life with a gentle and focused mind, rather than break through it at our mind’s literal breaking points. In these tough times, we can actually feel better, we can actually feel good!

Seeing the cup half-full can help us feel thankful, rather than scornful, for the disruption - the mental and physical space to reset our metronomes, to reflect on our lives - what was working, what wasn’t, and try to make life better for ourselves. We’ve been wanting this rest for our senses, don’t let your mind deceive or talk you out of that. We’ve all said the words “I’m tired”, “I’m stretched too thin”, or I need a break”. We needed the break. We deserved the break. So, let’s embrace our break.

From this opportunity, let’s try to find gratitude in our hearts and tranquility in our minds. Let’s rebalance and recharge our souls. One day at a time, together.

Good news in bad times

Amidst the stories of human suffering sweeping our world today, we want to conversely bring you a positive message: one, rather, of human compassion - souls lifting one another up, understanding and alleviating each other’s pain.

On February 29th, 2020 at the S.S.G. Hospital in Vadodora, India —The Everyday Gita’s giving journey continued. We distributed meals to 350 struggling hospital patients and their loved ones. A hearty, home-cooked Indian spread of the following food items was provided to each and every person:

• Khaman

• Beans

• Rotli (bread)

• Dal (lentil soup)

• Rice

• Banana

• Laapsi (dessert)

The Sir Sayajirao General Hospital provides yeoman service - practically free of cost - to underprivileged sections of the community and the common-man. Not only do those facing medical hardship come to S.S.G., but also those with the hardship of assuaging their daily hunger - with little to no monetary means to satisfy theirs and their families basic human need for food.

None of this would be possible without one visionary: Narmadabhen. An 84-year old philanthropist and community activist, Narmadabhen is the sole spokesperson for this giving mission - she has made her full-time job speaking up for these less fortunate people with her selfless actions. Everyday at 9:30 in the morning, she and her team prepares, delivers, and serves meals - all out of their own small but humble food delivery truck.

Moreover, she provides these folks sleeping bags, medicine, books, clothes, and even money for transportation to get back home after eating. Often, in addition to the food she cooks, she also gives fresh groceries to these families in hope that they can continue to nourish themselves for the rest of the day and week.

The Everyday Gita and its giving journey is inspired by people like Narmadabhen. We feel fortunate enough to learn from and expand our cause by teaming up with selfess figures and the communities that they support. With partnership like this, we become closer to our overall goal: universal empathy. With each new group of individuals we touch, we can cast a wider net of hope to more and more deserving souls. And in times like these, hope is the first, and the only path, towards living a full life: full of peace and happiness.

Jai Shree Krishna.

Helping outcast differently-abled girls and women

On February 8th, 2020 at the Muni Seva Ashram, in a small village called Goraj, about 60km outside of Vadodora, India —The Everyday Gita served food to 100 handicapped girls and women who’ve been outcast by society due to their disabilities. A fresh, home-cooked Indian meal was served consisting of the following food items:

• Vegetable sabji

• Khaman

• Puri (bread)

• Dal (lentil soup)

• Rice

• Salad

• Ladus (sweets)

In addition to the meals, we also provided 5 fans for the ashram’s newest building to aid the girls and women during the blistering summer months and monsoon season.

The Muni Seva Ashram is an abode for differently-abled women of ages 18+. The sanctuary was started in 1986 with the mission to enable, empower, and encourage comprehensive care of these less-privileged challenged, and needy - yet deserving - girls and women. The ashram is an assisted living, residential facility which is a shelter for close to 100 such sisters and daughters of society. Here every effort is made to improve the quality of their lives by providing deep care, respect, dignity, purpose, and fulfillment.

Due to worsening social conditions and the subsequent rejections these women are facing from their societies, about 200 admission applications are pending - resulting in expansion and extension in progress to include at least 100 more such girls and women in the giving program. The ashram is committed to helping those less fortunate in all facets of life and even has many other units like a school, home for senior citizens, and medical center.

The Muni Seva Ashram, like The Everyday Gita’s core message, believes that every soul is beautiful and precious - fully worthy of and deserving of care, peace, joy, and love. Those hungry, orphaned, or disabled in the world are no different than us - as we all have the same souls and are living the same life. Together, we can help each other realize our true purposes - uplifting one another and achieving happiness: one meal at a time.

Jai Shree Krishna.

500 more fed

On January 28th, 2020 at Fakir Ki Jhopadi, a temple with the mission of serving others, in Vadodora, India —The Everyday Gita helped nourish another 500 less fortunate souls. The biggest event yet, at the biggest initial inspiration for our cause! Read the story here.

A team of selfless volunteers joined hands to serve a full meal to hundreds of hungry mouths - families and individuals including men, women, children, and the elderly. A hearty, home-cooked Indian meal was served consisting of the following food items:

• Mixed-vegetable dal (lentil soup)

• Dhokla

• Puri (bread)

• Rice

• Gulab jamun (dessert)

• Orange

Fakir Ki Jhopadi provides warm meals twice a day - every single day - to those in need. Rain or shine, weekend or weekday, holiday or not - they cook, serve, and clean for breakfast and dinner. Unjudgmentally and unconditionally, they give food to anyone who lines up. Some takers are poverty-stricken homeless - without shoes, or even clothes - while others are working-class - with houses, jobs, vehicles - and are simply suffering the daily pains of life, like the rest of us.

The temple makes and gives the basic foods for every meal: rice, a soup, and a fruit. But, they rely on extra funding from causes like The Everyday Gita to provide a richer, more enjoyable meal for those less fortunate. With your contribution we were able to do this - to share savory snacks, sweet desserts, and smiles thereafter!

We aren’t just providing others with meals - we are providing others with the opportunity to sustain their mind, body, and soul - in turn coming closer to the spiritual world. And simultaneously, we are - too - coming closer to the spiritual world, by detaching from the material. The cherry-on-top? Together, we are building a community of empathy between our souls: a truly powerful force to connect and uplift us through our lives.

Thank you and God bless you for wanting to make a difference in your own life and the lives of others.

Jai Shree Krishna.

Another warm meal served

On January 9th, 2020 at the Anath Ashram, a boys orphanage, in Vadodora, India —The Everyday Gita delivered another nourishing meal to roughly 30 hungry children who’ve lost their families. A traditional, home-cooked Indian plate was served consisting of the following food items:

• Vegetable sabji

• Samosa

• Puri (bread)

• Dal (lentil soup)

• Rice

• Gajar nu halwa (carrot pudding dessert)

Most of the orphan boys come from poor villages seeking a better life - one filled with love and support from a community of peers and mentors - in order to fill the void of their late mothers and fathers. They all attend school and are in grades K-12. In fact, the second round of boys that sat to eat with us had just arrived after a visit to the local science fair.

The orphanage depends on donations to keep the hostel running and raising boys to become healthy and successful young men. So, thank you. From the abundance of generous contributions towards The Everyday Gita we will continue to support selfless giving groups like Anath Aashram who share our mission: to help the souls of those less fortunate.

Jai Shree Krishna.

The giving journey begins

After hitting a milestone of $3,000 raised and 350+ books sold — The Everyday Gita took its first step in the journey to give to those less fortunate.

On December 18th, 2019 at the Kasturba Girls Hostel in Vadodora, India — we gave home-cooked meals to 40 young orphans. Each child was provided with a traditional Indian meal consisting of the following food items:

• Vegetable sabji

• Potato pakoda

• Roti (bread)

• Dal (lentil soup)

• Rice

• Papdi

• Jalebi and gulab jamun (desserts)

The girls were very appreciative — full of warmth from nourishment and gratitude. I would like to extend their thanks to you for directly playing a part in diminishing their hunger with your purchase and/or donations towards The Everyday Gita.

This is just the first of many events that The Everyday Gita will continue to sponsor in 2020. Stay tuned in to the journey by following this blog channel — where I will be posting about every act of giving, as it takes place. If you have any further questions about the mission and where we are headed, please feel free to contact me directly at niralishah130@gmail.com.

Your support and belief in this cause does not go unrecognized - none of this goodness would be happening without each and every one of you.

Jai Shree Krishna.