Devi

My dad has a ritual with his friend of 60 years, Hugh McVeigh. They go to the Big Boy every month for breakfast and discuss their thoughts on northern Michigan cabin repairs-- they share family highs and lows, and sometimes they analyze the Tiger baseball stats. I have a similar but younger routine with my friend of 5 years Chris Pieper---we meet at Loka Cafe for coffee and have spiritual chit chat. The last time I met with Chris he told me "You will feel embraced by the mother/goddess energy of India when you arrive."

I had hoped Chris was right as most of my spiritual inquiry has been more intellectual, and less devotional in nature. At times my search has felt empty-- lacking that universal feeling of love that people express when their faith is sewn to their soul.

Quite frankly, for all the great adventures and magical experiences I've had in India, I couldn't say that the trip felt as Chris had described-- full of love and light. I had a tough time seeing the compassionate goddess in the trash heaps blowing across railway platforms, or in the slums that have made dirty, impoverished children, and the city of Mumbai so momentarily popular. It's quite impossible to see the divine through the thick brown wall of pollution that greets you when you step out of any air conditioned hotel or airport baggage claim. She is elusive when it comes to dead dogs in the streets and the scrawny hands that bang on taxi windows at rare red traffic lights.
So where exactly is this holy mother?
In the final days of my trip, should I have been surprised to find her?

Though they say she has infinite form, I found her on an unassuming altar of a small family temple in a fishing village outside of Alleppey, Kerala. Mini refers to her as her Devi-da (primary goddess), but she's also known at the temple as Shiva's wife Parvati. She's a small black stone statue who sits in front of a butter lamp. Devi is adorned each morning with fresh jasmine and incense ---- a simple gold chain, purchased by her congregation, hangs around her neck. The villagers--including Muslim worshippers down in the mosque on the canal, Christians that pray at the church near the boat jetty, and the Hindus of this modest temple, all respect this Parvati, Mother of Lord Ganesh.

The three religious groups live in harmony on this lake--- the fishermen's lips whisper her name as they tie their net knots----the elderly women who weave coir door mats for export give thanks to Parvati when their mat cooperative meeting starts each Monday night.. Mini's husband checks in with Parvati, and asks for her blessing before the family heads out for a journey. Mini seeks the goddess's guidance each time she starts a treatment with a patient. The children sit with her on Fridays as the Brahmin lights a fire of coconut shells and offers Parvati honey and ghee in the flames. When times are good, and times are not so good---the villagers smile---they trust their mother, and believe that everything is ok...

not that it is "going to be" ok--but rather that it already is ok.

I saw it on Mini's face as she took me to the airport in her best pink sari. My stress appeared in the wrinkle where my third eye was covered with kukum powder from the 6am temple visit (blessing for a safe flight). Dodging cows, bicycles and local buses on the highway, I continually asked the driver how much further it was to the airport---we had gotten a late start with final good-byes to the fish monger, and Radha--Mini's right hand in the house...I took too much time explaining to Mini's husband, Joy, how to use the digital camera I left with them. As a result, I was flushed with old western anxiety--- I shifted in the backseat, sad to finish my trip, concerned to miss my flight, and broken hearted to leave my dear new guru and friend. Mini on the other hand, smiling as she enjoyed the passing sights she sees every day, couldn't understand why I was "tensed".
"Eileen, why are you so sad?
Don't be tensed! Instead of thinking about leaving--know that you are coming back.....instead of feeling sad to say good-bye, feel how much 'full-ness' you feel in your heart." She held my spot-free hand in her cinnamon palm and asked if I packed the lemon pickles, coconuts, and chicu, to bring home.... I wish I could have taken a picture of her in her in her pink sari, but instead, I held her hand, and we talked about the healing properties of chick peas. Thank you Mini, thank you Devi, thank you India.