Let's Give it up for the Naked Baba

A critical part of spiritual development is renunciation, or giving stuff up. I started giving stuff up in 2001, starting with my homicidal cat Griselda, my job as a Network Admin and my cute cottage apartment in San Diego. Over the years I gave up other stuff - my car, more jobs, the best relationship I ever had - all in the pursuit of something I couldn't name.

The process of renunciation means you give up your attachments, not only to material possessions but to your loved ones as well. There are many examples of saints and other seekers who left their families, never to look back...it's just part of the process.

But renunciation also extends to concepts and ideas. Now that I have almost nothing of material value left, I've begun to give up my need to be "achieving" something, my desire to settle down and my guilt feelings about neglecting my family. Giving all these things up means you stop trying to control your life - which is an illusion anyway - and instead surrender to God's divine will.

The naked baba is the ultimate example of a true renunciate; not only has he renounced material possessions, he has taken it a step further and renounced his own self-respect. The umbrella is necessary only as a means of protecting his body - the vehicle for the soul - from sickness.

But you don't have to travel to India and walk around naked to start practicing renunciation. You can start by throwing out your television when you get home from work today.



Cry Me a River and Call It Ganga

I used to feel sorry for myself. I perceived many misfortunes...I come from a culture I can't relate to, my family lines are weak or non-existent, I've inherited an ugly legacy of sexual abuse, I have no place to call home, I'm depressed...la la la, blah blah blah. Are you crying yet?

Of course it all turned out to be the greatest spiritual blessing I could ask for: had I been too comfortable with my circumstances I wouldn't be here now, living it up with the monkeys and cockroaches!

Ahh, the delicious ironies abound..



A Few More Rounds on that Hamster Wheel

During one of our interminable discussions in Chandigarh, Andrew suggested my remarks about the hamster wheel could be considered insensitive to many dedicated workers back home. Workers who are, presumably, on the hamster wheel.

I decided that the problem stems primarily from my choice of words; the term "hamster wheel" makes it sound like a bad thing.

But the fact is it doesn't really matter whether you're running around on the hamster wheel or not. What's more important is your attitude about it. For example, those who derive their self-identity from their work and are only concerned with chasing after money or gaining recognition have the wrong attitude. They're the real hamsters.

On the other hand, those who see the wheel for what it is but keep running because they want to contribute something to society, provide for their families or learn something from their work...they have the right attitude. These people aren't hamsters, they're karma yogis.

Everyone has a different purpose or journey in this life (as expressed in the philosophy of the caste system). The fact that I was able to jump off the wheel and explore a different way of life is - as I mentioned above - a blessing.

For years I used to say that my greatest accomplishment in life was never getting pregnant. It usually came across as a joke but now I understand why it's so true: had I become a mother there is no chance I would be here exploring this alternative way of life now. Out of necessity, I would be somewhere running on the hamster wheel to provide for my munchkins.

So I apologize if I ruffled some hamster fur with my previous comments. The truth is I am deeply grateful to all of you hardworking people for your dedicated efforts. If you were not out there doing your job, we certainly couldn't be here doing ours. So...

"run around again, mad dog...run around again!"

with sincerest appreciation,
om shantih om,
LMA


PS: Obviously, if I really wanted to insult people, I wouldn't call them hamsters. I'd call them wombats.