"Do it as an Offering to Me" - Bhagavad Gita

"I did not come here to be small and fit in
I came to uplift and bring to higher ground
I did not come to be burdened down
But to deliver strength from the Unknown
The Unseen
The Unheard
The Un-named
I did not come here to fill myself to the rim
But to bow and pour the abun-”dance”
I did not come to establish banners or kingdoms
I came here as a nation builder
For the great Imagination
For the Dreams aching to express
For the coming generations of children
To sing them the Unreachable Songs"

Ganga Fondan, 2009

Listening to Schubert's "Ave Maria" I think tonight of my grandmother. I blogged about ther a while back and it seems she is with me somehow encouraging me from the depth of my feelings of love for life. She was such a gifted musician and composer. Conservatory trained with a passion for opera, she possessed a romantic and gigantic whimsical spirit. She left her dream of a career in music to marry her true love and raise a family and attend to the duties of a wife and mother. She endured the war and its hardships and overcame many personal challenges with grace and strength. Physically she was half my size but when she sat at the piano her stature became enormous and her tiny fingers danced and stretched with lightness and ease. Her aging voice remained sweet and powerful and emotional.

We never saw eachother often...perhaps the equivalent of a full year. The distance between Canada and Germany was a long flight and expensive. I didn't need much time to know that she was someone who saw me and recognized the depth of expression I yearned for. My manerisms were shy and awkward and she had a gentleness about her that put me at ease. She shared with me some of her musical compostions which I repeated timidly on the piano. She remained patient and uplifting. We would watch movies together and discuss them at length afterwards. Sometimes she laughed so hard like a little girl. She encouraged me to see the romance in life, to dive deep into love in its many forms and to honor the Divine in my own way. In one of her last letters she wrote:

"Vor allem, bleibe du nur ...Du"
("Before everything..., remain true to yourself.")

I wonder what she loved about Schubert's "Ave Maria". The piano piece was her style and she loved the simple songs very much. She was not particularly religious and I do not remember having a conversation about Mary ever. Was it the idea of asking the Universal Mother for help? Was it the idea of trusting in something greater than oneself and knowing that every hardship would be lifted? Was it the theme of keeping a pure heart? I've been listening to it over and over tonight.

I feel so grateful that my mother was born in the womb of this woman who was my grandmother. My mother has been one of my best teachers because despite being different in so many ways, not being able to see eye to eye on many things, it is my mother's heart and constant desire to grow herself that always brings us back together and celebrate a true friendship. I think of her too as I listen to this song. It seems to wash all the excess trivial details away from my life and focus on what is really important. The faith and Vision of the young girl praying with crystal clarity lifts my soul to calmness.

And so this short poem arises in the pauses between the notes of an exquisite musical composition. It pours out effortlessly and honestly from the depth of my Being. I remember my Teacher describes this process in "Ancient Secrets of Success for Today's World":

"The Infinite is the Absolute and the Infinite is your Consciousness. Sometimes, in moments of bliss you may get a touch of Infinitude from the intoxication of Imagination: that is when your Imagination has climbed above the edge of conditions."

In moments like these I feel the purpose of what I came here for. In moments like these there is no doubt or rejection of the very idea. In moments like these there is no wondering of how everything will be accomplished. In moments like these there is only love of the Divine.

In moments like these there is only song. There is always song.

Ganga