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MUKUNDA LEGACY FUND
Giving Back - Honoring the teacher and the teachings
Giving Back - Honoring the teacher and the teachings
It was a blessing and honor to be present when my dear teacher Mukunda Stiles entered Maha Samadhi (left his body, or died). Samadhi is described as complete absorption into the source. Once we leave the body, we are back in the soup of existence and unity. We are not floating on our own cracker bonking into the sides of the bowl, fearfully waiting to be eaten by life. Witnessing the moment when my teacher slid back in to the soup, a blissful broth where his beloved guru it , teachers, deceased loved ones and his Ishta Devata (personal understanding of god) are part of the dissolved ingredients, was indeed an experience of a lifetime. Mukunda often spoke of his guru and the divine mother (his Ishta Devata) with tears streaming down his face and his lower lip quivering. He was not shy to let this naturally arising expression of joy and love come out in the messy way that tears do, in front of 50 or so people. This was just one of the many things I adored and admired about him. He loved deeply and shared that with us, fully expressed.
One way Mukunda described our life experience was that life in this body was like a big wave that rises up from the ocean and crashes on the shore. When we leave the body we become part of the vast expanse of ocean once again, like the wave does when it is no longer a wave. The water molecules that made up the wave have not changed, they just go from the cohesive structure of wave and dissolve into the depth of the ocean. But sometimes ribbons of foam are blown from the edge of the water, or little ruts form in the sand and some water is left in a puddle, far from the body of water that it came from. Those puddles or fly away foam have to wait until another wave comes to pull it back into its source. Sometimes it sinks into the sand, requiring time and effort to dig down and retrieve it. Mukunda was a huge and powerful wave. He rose up out of the ocean, stretched out onto the shore, reabsorbing stray foam and puddles that were ready and waiting, stirred it all up (as tends to happen when you get caught in a wave), and dissolved back into the ocean, leaving many of us dizzy from the experience, but more motivated than ever to reconnect to the juicy, blissful, expansive ocean.
Mukunda was not always like a tumultuous wave however. Sometimes he was like a waterfall constantly streaming grace. Sometimes a little trickle, like the gentle stream of water that makes grooves in rock, wearing away away difficulties so sattvicly that you might not even notice your trouble was gone until you went to look for it.
I had a conversation with one of my brothers on the path that I met thru Mukunda. Together we understood that Mukunda's method of guidance was to encourage us to open a closed door or two (or twenty!) that he knew inevitably led to the Self. He could sense which door a person was ready to open. He didn't care which door it was, he knew they all led to the same place anyway. Once that door opens, it is hard to close, hard to turn around and start walking back in the direction that you came from. Because of that, because of his open door policy, the benefit of what one got from his teachings and guidance will never go away. When doors open, deep students walk through. The gift of the opening is forever. Mukunda is no longer a phone call away to guide us thru the next closed door that we will inevitably encounter. But IF we were paying attention we might remember the tools he taught us so we can continue to be the door hunters and spiritual lock pickers that he was training us to be.
Mukunda changed my life in many ways that I will be forever grateful for, more than I can ever articulate. He pointed me towards a particular door when he gave me my spiritual name. One of the reasons a teacher gives a spiritual name is because it reflects an aspect of you the teacher recognizes as important to be acknowledged and understood. Every time someone calls you by this name you are hearing a teaching. Unknowingly, that person is now an agent of your teacher, helping you to see what you are not seeing. The person using the name is hearing a teaching also. I have for years told participants in the Yoga Teacher Training and workshops that if they call me by my spiritual name they will get a better answer to the question they are asking. I really think it is true: who you call on matters. Knowing for a couple of months that Mukunda's time on earth was limited, I vowed when he left his body I would take the scary and awkward step of asking people to use my spiritual name as a way of honoring and investigating this very personal teaching he gave me. It is not easy to make this change, and I know it’s a big thing to ask of people (especially as it is not an easy name to remember). But now that the time is here to make the request, I realize that this could be beneficial for everyone. This way we all get to continue to participate in his teaching, even if you never met him. When you use “Amarjyothi," that aspect of me which is "eternal light" is sparked. It is also an aspect of you and when you use “Amarjyothi” a finger points to the door that leads to your spiritual effulgence as well. We can all be bright lights, forever glowing and continuously expelling the darkness of our minds.
When I think about Mukunda's passing from a self-centered viewpoint, how I miss him and will miss him, what has been taken from ME with his passing, I get sad. When I consider his passing from a larger perspective, I feel overwhelming joy. The deep gratitude I feel for having known him brings me to tears and makes my lower lip quiver. There is of course great sadness for the family left behind, whose daily rhythm included Mukunda. Now that he is gone there is a large hole that will never again be filled by the magnificence of who he was. The loving compassionate husband, son, uncle, teacher and neighbor is no longer around to share the ordinary and extraordinary moments of life. This is heartbreaking and difficult. It is also difficult to understand and contain the exuberance I feel when I think about Mukunda’s liberation from his body. He has joined the energy of the goddess and guru that he loved so much. His pain and struggles of the body, which were many, are over. He will be with us always. There is no loss. “Now he can see everything I am doing 24 hours a day,” said one of my dear friends, a longtime student of Mukunda.
That made me remember one of Mukunda's more difficult teachings: “Live like god is watching everything you do, all of the time.” I am not sure if I am ready for that challenge. But as he is now part of the vast expanse of ocean, I don't see that I have a choice.
Satgurunath Maharaj ki jai
Jagadambe Mata ki jai
One way Mukunda described our life experience was that life in this body was like a big wave that rises up from the ocean and crashes on the shore. When we leave the body we become part of the vast expanse of ocean once again, like the wave does when it is no longer a wave. The water molecules that made up the wave have not changed, they just go from the cohesive structure of wave and dissolve into the depth of the ocean. But sometimes ribbons of foam are blown from the edge of the water, or little ruts form in the sand and some water is left in a puddle, far from the body of water that it came from. Those puddles or fly away foam have to wait until another wave comes to pull it back into its source. Sometimes it sinks into the sand, requiring time and effort to dig down and retrieve it. Mukunda was a huge and powerful wave. He rose up out of the ocean, stretched out onto the shore, reabsorbing stray foam and puddles that were ready and waiting, stirred it all up (as tends to happen when you get caught in a wave), and dissolved back into the ocean, leaving many of us dizzy from the experience, but more motivated than ever to reconnect to the juicy, blissful, expansive ocean.
Mukunda was not always like a tumultuous wave however. Sometimes he was like a waterfall constantly streaming grace. Sometimes a little trickle, like the gentle stream of water that makes grooves in rock, wearing away away difficulties so sattvicly that you might not even notice your trouble was gone until you went to look for it.
I had a conversation with one of my brothers on the path that I met thru Mukunda. Together we understood that Mukunda's method of guidance was to encourage us to open a closed door or two (or twenty!) that he knew inevitably led to the Self. He could sense which door a person was ready to open. He didn't care which door it was, he knew they all led to the same place anyway. Once that door opens, it is hard to close, hard to turn around and start walking back in the direction that you came from. Because of that, because of his open door policy, the benefit of what one got from his teachings and guidance will never go away. When doors open, deep students walk through. The gift of the opening is forever. Mukunda is no longer a phone call away to guide us thru the next closed door that we will inevitably encounter. But IF we were paying attention we might remember the tools he taught us so we can continue to be the door hunters and spiritual lock pickers that he was training us to be.
Mukunda changed my life in many ways that I will be forever grateful for, more than I can ever articulate. He pointed me towards a particular door when he gave me my spiritual name. One of the reasons a teacher gives a spiritual name is because it reflects an aspect of you the teacher recognizes as important to be acknowledged and understood. Every time someone calls you by this name you are hearing a teaching. Unknowingly, that person is now an agent of your teacher, helping you to see what you are not seeing. The person using the name is hearing a teaching also. I have for years told participants in the Yoga Teacher Training and workshops that if they call me by my spiritual name they will get a better answer to the question they are asking. I really think it is true: who you call on matters. Knowing for a couple of months that Mukunda's time on earth was limited, I vowed when he left his body I would take the scary and awkward step of asking people to use my spiritual name as a way of honoring and investigating this very personal teaching he gave me. It is not easy to make this change, and I know it’s a big thing to ask of people (especially as it is not an easy name to remember). But now that the time is here to make the request, I realize that this could be beneficial for everyone. This way we all get to continue to participate in his teaching, even if you never met him. When you use “Amarjyothi," that aspect of me which is "eternal light" is sparked. It is also an aspect of you and when you use “Amarjyothi” a finger points to the door that leads to your spiritual effulgence as well. We can all be bright lights, forever glowing and continuously expelling the darkness of our minds.
When I think about Mukunda's passing from a self-centered viewpoint, how I miss him and will miss him, what has been taken from ME with his passing, I get sad. When I consider his passing from a larger perspective, I feel overwhelming joy. The deep gratitude I feel for having known him brings me to tears and makes my lower lip quiver. There is of course great sadness for the family left behind, whose daily rhythm included Mukunda. Now that he is gone there is a large hole that will never again be filled by the magnificence of who he was. The loving compassionate husband, son, uncle, teacher and neighbor is no longer around to share the ordinary and extraordinary moments of life. This is heartbreaking and difficult. It is also difficult to understand and contain the exuberance I feel when I think about Mukunda’s liberation from his body. He has joined the energy of the goddess and guru that he loved so much. His pain and struggles of the body, which were many, are over. He will be with us always. There is no loss. “Now he can see everything I am doing 24 hours a day,” said one of my dear friends, a longtime student of Mukunda.
That made me remember one of Mukunda's more difficult teachings: “Live like god is watching everything you do, all of the time.” I am not sure if I am ready for that challenge. But as he is now part of the vast expanse of ocean, I don't see that I have a choice.
Satgurunath Maharaj ki jai
Jagadambe Mata ki jai
