"Happy happy joy joy" I wrote some days back in my facebook status. Within minutes it was tagged with many "likes" and even a few happy comments. People love to share happiness. But are they equally quick to share difficult times?
Several years ago, while backpacking through India, I was sitting in the clothes shop belonging to an Indian friend of mine. The small town of Gokarna was frequented by tourists so when a young French woman walked into the shop, I paused the conversation with my friend to allow him to do his business.
The girl looked a little withdrawn, and when she saw me there she hesitated. Latif attempted to introduce us... apparently she had been in there before. I smiled but did not attempt to make conversation.
She left quickly, with Latif telling her to pass by again for a cup of tea later.
Then he turned to me and looking me in the eyes, questioningly, he said, "You people are strange!"
What was this about now?
He continued, "If Maya walk in shop with smiling you sure to be smiling also, and want friendship. But she sad and you only polite and not care for that."
I was startled by his straight-out observation. He was right, of course, although I'd never have thought about this instinctive reaction of mine.
He added, "In Indian culture if sister looking sad we are asking what help can give. Why you not ask her if she need help?"
I reacted, "Well, I don't know her... she might feel like I was invading her space if I asked her troubles. Normally in our culture we do not like to talk about our problems with others unless they are very close to us."
That was not quite a satisfactory reason, as far as he was concerned. "Nobody want to talk about problem because nobody want to listen. I know you people, I see you every day for many years."
I knew Latif was not judging me. Rather he was making me aware of our cultural norms which were rather inhuman in his eyes!
Later in the day I was sitting in a restaurant for some lunch. Maya walked in. She looked as withdrawn as she appeared earlier. I waved to her and invited her to sit with me. She came. I began light conversation, now more conscious of her need for affection though unaware of the reason why. I soon learned.
She loosened up very quickly and poured out her life story - about being raised by an unloving aunt when her mother left her, and living with the constant bullying by her female cousins... so many difficulties she has had to face in her short life. She was only 19, and fleeing to India was to her the last hope she had to escape from her world and find something different. But she discovered that she was carrying the weight of that world with her. It did not make a difference where she was because of how she was feeling inside.
I was surprised at this outpour of such intimate details of her life. I remembered Latif's words, "Nobody want to talk about problem because nobody want to listen." What an important lesson life was presenting me today!
I decided I wanted to give Maya my friendship, regardless of what she was able to give me. Day after day we met and spent time together. In this relationship I was consciously taking the role of the giver, but in reality, by this experience I received more than I could have imagined.
A couple of days before we were due to part ways and proceed on our journeys, Maya and I were walking on the beach under the light of the moon. We were playing about and giggling as we made our way back to our beach huts, which were not far from each other. Suddenly, she just turned around to face me and, becoming very serious, she said, "All the women in my life have given me nothing but suffering, but you have changed that for me!" Her eyes penetrated me deeply.
As I looked back into her eyes, I could have sworn that I could see her face changing forms. Perhaps it was the shadows from the moonlight, or perhaps it was too much oxygen in my brain from all the giggling, or perhaps it was her energy changing so suddenly that it was strangely visible - or maybe all those things put together or maybe it was something else. I don't know.
But what came to my mind was how, according to Hindu mythology, the name Maya refers to the illusory material energy, which is considered to be feminine, and how this aspect of divinity is said to manifest itself in so many different forms... and I remembered the Indian "Paramatma" philosophy whereby it is told that divinity pervades everything. The Divine was manifest within Maya yet I had not realised that until now.
“I owed it to you,” I said. “Thank you for what you have changed in me.”
The illusion is that we are separated from each other and thus we all live on our own individual mental planets. The unifying factor is love.
If only we could see how we were all connected on the absolute divine plane, it would be so much easier for love to flow naturally regardless of whether the divine Self was being expressed as a tree, a fish, a bird, an animal or another human being. That was what came to my mind.
It is that same feeling of separatedness, caused by the false identification of the ego, that makes us feel alone in our miseries. Admitting our short-comings or our fears feels like admitting defeat in a world where all are taught to strive for the control, power, wealth and fame that belong only to the Absolute.
However, as a friend pointed out, dwelling on our problems and in our expression of them may also be egotistic. Indeed, but perhaps this is born of a feeling of fumbling alone, which nourishes a desperate and forceful need to reach out: Is there anybody out there?
The curtain will some day be lifted and we will never walk alone....
