Amma, the Throngs, and I Yesterday at San Ramon

[Guest guest]

I went to see Amma yesterday at San Ramon. I had thrown my back out

last week on Wednesday. It got better and then went out again

Friday so I was a reluctant visitor. Had I been bringing a guest

like me I would have been very confident that the Special Needs

people would take care of everything. Apparently, I was not

bringing myself--hahaha--because I forgot about that...or some other

divine messaging system was in play. Indeed no system was quite up

to the task of yesterday's crowds in San Ramon.

 

When I arrived, it seemed that there were 4000 people there. That

is normal for Devi Bhava--modest for Devi Bhava--but not for a first

day. I was happy that I had small objectives--just to see Amma.

That's it. No need for darshan of the hugging variety, just the old

fashioned "seeing" type.

 

The parking volunteers had long since surrendered to the flow and

drivers were on their own. The lot set aside for handicapped--which

I would have used for the first time ever--was packed. I parked on

the side of a steep hill and kept affirming that my back would be

okay, that I just needed to remember to breathe and walk slowly and

mindfully.

 

There were lines everywhere. Many of the people were new and had

that wide eyed look of wonder and expectation, that glow of

discovering love anew. Lines everywhere, just everywhere.

 

One wonderful feature of the MA Center, that I appreciated when I

travelled a little to see amma elsewhere, is the balcony. There was

no hope for seeing Amma standing on the floor of the hall. I am

short to begin with and Amma is short. A forest of taller folks are

always THERE in between. Climbing the stairs to the balcony,

however, enabled me to peer through several people and the railing

to see her.

 

There was Amma, much more gray than I remembered, hugging all her

children. She was going pretty quickly which was good because I had

just passed a huge line, going all the way down the driveway, of

people wanting darshan tickets.

 

Amma looked concerned and tired. Bhavani was there, ever -

vigilant. The bustling ballet of volunteers around her chair moved

in their joyful rhythm. Huge garlands went around Amma's neck.

Bouquets flew from devotees, to Amma, to volunteers, to the pail

like colorful birds flying overhead. Amma lifted off the heavy

garlands and they floated to another place on the hands of other

volunteers. Big Swamiji stood there nearly dwarfed by the crowds.

 

I said a prayer that I would see whoever I needed to see that day

and moved away from the precious spot which was eagerly claimed by

someone else. Two women who have said that they would teach IAM in

women's prisons crossed my path. Manoharan had come from India and

we said hello as if we were the only ones in the room for that

moment. It was just that instant of complete stillness and poise,

where two sentences were exchanged, and then we both stepped on into

the dance, the swirl of the crowd moving about the hall. I saw a

Circle of Love Letters writer whose email address hasn't been

working and got her new email address.

 

I was hungry and a bit lightheaded and the line for lunch, even

though it was late, was all the way down the path to the road,

around the building and down the center to the food servers. I

settled for a snack and herbal tea, wondering why I had left the

almonds in the car.

 

One last prayer that I'd see anyone I needed to see and there was

the woman I had intended to drive home to later in the evening. She

was depositing her dishes just as I was. She went on and on about

the amazing synchronicity. She had done longer greeting seva than

her assignment yesterday because the crowds were so large and she

could see that she was needed. She had realized that, due to the

crowds and so many new people, she probably would not get darshan

that day. Maybe it was the first time she had come to see Amma and

had not received a hug. I could tell it was a new idea, that

possibility, for her. There was a slight tinge of sadness as she

bravely told that someone else had told her that her seva was her

darshan. I agreed.

 

"Yes, your seva can become your darshan," I said to her.

 

She breathed that in and repeated it. "You seva can become your

darshan. Yes, your seva can become your darshan."

 

I remembered times when I'd seen others, who had been coming to see

Amma for years, have near tantrums because they weren't going to get

a hug that morning, or they might have to wait until Devi Bhava to

get ANOTHER hug. Amma works so hard on us and it's quite a job she

has some times. This sister who had done extra greeting seva seemed

to be "getting it."

 

Your seva can become your darshan.

 

She is friends with a new friend of mine sho will help us get IAM

into San Francisco County Jail. They have known each other for

years.

 

Your seva can become your darshan.

 

Jai Ma!

 

Aikya