Wendy Connor - All (Baba) Things Considered

The Script was Written Long Ago

2008-06-09T09:24:00.000-07:00

The 50th anniversary celebration of Baba's last visit to Meher Center has just come to a close. It has been a remarkable and loving time at Baba's Center, filled with special events and precious memories of the Beloved. For me personally, it's been a particularly meaningful period of remembrance and reflection because it was in '58 when I first met Baba here with my family.

I am asked from time to time how can I remember so much when I was just a child of six. And I reply that perhaps, if Baba had been an ordinary man, my memories would have dulled by now. But, because Baba is the very Source of Love, I've come to feel that my meeting was an experience of that love, an awakening of what is most lasting and real in life. And, because this experience is always happening in the eternal now, the experience continues. Really speaking, through our efforts to try to remember Him and please Him I believe that, by His grace, anyone can meet with Baba at any given moment.

When I recall that time, I think about how natural it was being around Baba, how natural it was to trust Him completely. But, as I grew older, it became increasingly challenging for me to leave everything to Baba, to trust that everything that happens is truly for the best -- to trust Him as a child.

In the mysterious corners of my inner life, where His voice somehow comes through, I feel Baba asking me to let go of thinking that I am in control. On one level, it sounds easy. But on the so-called "real life" level, this effort to let go is antithetical to the values of the world we live in -- a world that tells us we can determine the outcome of anything we do if we just put our mind to it. By 'letting go', I don't mean we shouldn't care about how we do things in our lives, or not pay attention to the results. Baba addresses this apparent contradiction when He talks about a special quality of inner action, when He says: "Do your best and leave the rest to Me." This inner action, of course, is surrenderance.

But in trying to surrender one's life to Baba, the mind itself becomes the problem. It worries, it anticipates, obsesses, wants credit and so on; in short, the mind attaches itself to anything it desires. I have to remind myself to do as Baba says: "Let the heart lead the mind."

Having a background in improvisational theater, I tend to think in theater metaphors. It seems to me the way Baba has designed this Divine Game is that He has us improvising every moment to a script that's already been written. . .by Him. Or as Baba said: "The film was taken long ago, now you watch." And Mani would add: "We just have to remember our lines." That's the part we have to play - make the effort to remember our lines - trusting that Baba wrote the plot long ago. Herein lies the great Divine Paradox: we have to do our best in ways that would please Him, but always keep in the back of our minds that Baba is in control of it all.

Clearly, to place everything in Baba's Hands, takes complete surrender to His Will, trusting that every experience is designed to bring us closer to Him. For me, surrender often takes a huge leap of faith. Sometimes, I feel like that person who's afraid to get in the lion's cage Baba speaks of, much less allow myself to be devoured by Him.

In '58, Kitty asked Baba about my parents' divorce. Baba gestured, "They were meant to separate." But Baba," Kitty asked, "don't the children need a father?" Baba replied, "What do you mean, Kitty? I am their Father." I know that Baba wants me to trust Him now in the same way I relied on Him when I was young -- wholeheartedly and without hesitation. Sometimes, my day is made up of small surrenders and, at times, big ones. But, as I wake up in the morning and take His Name, I also say: "Baba, help me to play my part well today." How blessed we are to be able to entrust our hearts and minds to our Beloved, who is both Mother and Father in us all.

The Mosquitoes are Bad Today

2008-02-05T09:56:00.000-08:00

Growing up with Baba, I often heard the phrase "That would please Baba" or "Baba is pleased." Sometimes, Baba would use it in a cable or it would be in a letter from Mani and, occasionally, it was something I would hear Elizabeth or Kitty say. You can imagine the excitement in my household when something arrived from India.

First, Elizabeth would immediately call us to come over to Dilruba; we would all gather in the living room and she would read the message aloud. If we were in New York (where we lived from '59 to '65), she would read it over the phone, then send us a copy, or the original, if it was marked JaneTrio. When I reread those letters and cables now, it reminds me of how often Baba used the word "pleased" when commenting on something we had done or given. He didn't thank us; He would say, "I am pleased with your work" or "with your gift," and the most precious, "with your love."

As an adult, I didn't have to look far for living examples of how to please Baba; I only had to watch Elizabeth and Kitty and Margaret to see love for the God Man in action. They instinctively knew what would please Baba; it seemed their every word and deed was inspired by their desire to please Him. The western disciples were introduced to this theme of pleasing Baba early on. In one of her talks, Kitty recalls: It was in the early 1930s when Baba, speaking of love and truth, spelled out on His board: "Faith and love are God's gifts of Grace to you." And we replied, "Then what can we give you, Baba? To this Baba spelled out on His board, "Try to please Me and you will know how to love Me."

I discovered that wanting to please Baba and actually doing what pleases Him are two very different things, the latter being far more difficult for me. I remember Buz and I talking with Eruch about this one day and we were stunned to hear him say: "How infinite is the Beloved's pleasure that He would allow a shit like me to sit at His feet. I know only what displeases Him."

I confess I often put my own wants first. I find a way to rationalize acting on my desire instead of paying close attention to His inner voice that is telling me something different. Sometimes, I will first ask Baba to forgive me and then do what I want anyway; it might be expressing anger or impatience, or some overindulgence, or perhaps just being lazy when I know I should be working. I catch myself having critical thoughts and judging people, forgetting that it's His business, not mine. But I find the most insidious thoughts of all to be worry. I'm convinced that if I don't worry, "it", whatever "it" may be, won't turn out the way I want it to. These negative thoughts can be so persistent and annoying that they remind me of how Baba has compared thoughts to mosquitoes:

"Suppose there are numerous mosquitoes swarming around and they start biting you at night. What would you do to get rid of this annoyance? Would you just sit there and cry? No! You would at once get a mosquito net. You would resort to a remedy and it eventually would have the desired effect. Even thought the mosquitoes would come in hordes at first, you would not feel disturbed, for they would almost all be outside the curtain, though a few might have come inside the net. Likewise, deal with all these thoughts. They, like mosquitoes, are sure to come and annoy you, but you have to put up a curtain of thoughts about Me, by letting My divine image be present before your mind's eye. Meditate on Me so that the other thoughts automatically stop pestering your mind. Let the mosquito net of meditation on Me save you from being bitten by your thoughts."

There's another quote of Baba's that serves as a wonderfully clear guide for me: "Think of things that you would not hesitate to think of in My presence. Speak words that you would not hesitate to speak in My presence and do things that your would not hesitate to do in My presence."

I remember one day, at Dilruba, I overheard a conversation Kitty was having with a new person. They were sitting in the dining room by the window overlooking Long Lake, Kitty's favorite spot on a sunny day, and I heard the man ask, "Do you feel Meher Baba's love all the time?" Kitty thought for a moment and replied, "No, I can't say that I do but, you see, I have this conviction about who Meher Baba is and it makes me want to please Him all the time."

There is no doubt in my mind that I want to please Baba. But there are some days when the mosquitoes are so abundant and pesky that it becomes a daunting task to just plow through the swarm and unravel the net. It's clear I have many opportunities for practice ahead of me. I just hope someday, some lifetime, pleasing Him will be second nature.

Youth Sahavas '07

2007-08-14T11:54:00.001-07:00

Meher Center is still vibrating from the remarkable energy of the 165 young people who attended this year's Youth Sahavas -- the 17th held here. It's difficult to describe what happens to the young people and the Center during this ten-day event but one thing is always clear, the Center comes fully alive and sparkles with Baba's presence.

The participants came from all over the United States and the world: this year, 3 traveled from Australia, 2 from Canada and one from England. The week long event is carefully planned beforehand by 60 young adults who serve as counselors, kitchen staff, art tent staff and workerwallas for the 105 teenagers who attend. Everyday there are discussion groups, workshops, beach time, evening programs that include films of Baba, a talent celebration, a dhuni, and a special farewell night in the Barn when all have an opportunity to bow down and place a flower on Baba's chair. On Sunday, the last day, everyone walks to Baba's House holding hands and says the prayers together and then their goodbyes.

Perhaps the most unique aspect of the Sahavas is that the staff is made up of young adults who were once participants themselves. While the event is administered by Meher Center's Youth Sahavas Committee, in a very real hands-on way, this sahavas is put on by young adults for teenagers. It is no small feat to carve out these ten days (4 days for set up and clean up and 6 days with participants) -- to take leave from jobs, or time out from studies and, in some cases, forfeit vacation time with family. Yet, for each of them, the opportunity to serve Baba in this way is an opportunity they treasure and look forward to all year.

They arrive early and spend three days training and preparing for the week ahead. Each year the first day begins with an excerpt from a talk given by Mani in 1980 to the Meher Pilgrim Staff in India: "Never lose sight of the purpose of your being here. You are here because of Baba. While you are working here for Baba, never forget the real work that Baba does through whatever work you do. Each of you is Baba's special work. While He gives you an opportunity to work for Him, He is working on you. He uses the work you do to do His work within you -- He is quite tricky, you see!

"Don't lose perspective -- even though He wants you to wholeheartedly do the work entrusted to you, don't be so attached to the work itself that you find yourself failing to give what He really wants from you. Keep an eye on yourself. It's the little things that you trip over, things too small to make a show of, with no reward of glory attached, only service and the effort to please Him."

It is a gift to watch these young adults take Mani's words to heart and try wholeheartedly to put themselves aside to do their best for Baba and the younger ones.

There is no doubt that the main way young people find their own relationship with Baba is through each other. The sahavas provides a rare time and place where they can come together and talk about the struggles in their lives and, in an atmosphere of acceptance, share their common bond of love for the Avatar. There is a touching recognition amongst them that they belong to the same tribe -- His tribe.

Over the years, we have heard countless stories, from parents and teenagers alike, about the impact of the sahavas. Some of the teens have seen Baba physically. There is the boy who, at his first sahavas, saw Baba on the path to the Barn, and the two girls in the Lagoon Cabin who saw Baba sitting in His chair, smiling at them. This year, on the last day, a staff member discovered little notes addressed to Baba that had been slipped under the cushion on His chair in the Lagoon Cabin.

There is a wonderful story about a mother who picked her son up from the airport and driving home, asked him how it (the sahavas) went. The 15 year old replied, "Fine." She asked, "Well, how were the activities?" "Fine", he said. Hoping for something more specific, the mother asked, "Well, can you tell me anything that happened?" Her son turned to look at her and said, "I found God."

I recall a conversation Buz and I had with Eruch one morning while walking at Meherazad. We shared about our work with young people and working for Baba. Eruch turned to us and said,"Who are we to think that we can do Baba's work? After all, He has said that He alone does His work." And then he added, "Except for one thing: never let the generation to come say that you did not tell them about Him."

Clearly, Baba wants this generation of young people to know Him. We see Him ply His magic of awakening young hearts to His love each year through the youth sahavas.

It is particularly touching for me to see so many young ones on the Center at one time, because I often find myself reliving the birthday party Baba held for the children here in May of 1958. And I recall, with a smile, Baba stipulating that the only way an adult could attend was if a child brought them. As I watch the children gather daily at the Meeting Place, so near the site of the birthday party, I cannot help but think He planned this event long ago.

"It Just Passes More Quickly"

2007-05-17T11:50:00.000-07:00

In recent months, we have seen several dear friends in the Baba community pass away. Feeling their loss, and seeing the continuous pictures of war so prevalent on the television each day, my thoughts have turned more and more to the spiritual meaning Baba gives to suffering and death.

In some ways, I find death easier to accept, as I grow older. Even in my sadness and attachment, I take some comfort in knowing the person has been released from their suffering. The main reason for this change in awareness in me is that I have been privileged to be in the room with a few close ones at the moment of their passing. Those experiences have had a tremendous impact on my understanding and acceptance of death.

One of my most precious memories is being with Kitty Davy the night she went to Baba. I was sitting by her side on a low stool by the bed, holding her hand, repeating Baba's name aloud. Her eyes were closed and I thought she had slipped into a coma. A little while later, to my astonishment, Kitty began repeating aloud, in a very clear voice, "Abba, Abba, Abba, Abba." I continued saying Baba's name and we began taking turns. She would say "Abba", and I would follow with, "Baba." Soon I realized Kitty was taking the lead, not me. This went on for a while, back and forth. Suddenly, there was a change in the rhythm and Kitty began repeating "Abba" so rapidly, that I could no longer keep up. Suddenly, she stopped and there was a profound silence. Her eyes opened wide, then closed on a big sigh and her hand released in mine.

Baba's presence was so powerful that I, as "Wendy", completely disappeared. It was just Kitty and Baba. Kitty was so clearly letting go of her form, reaching out to her Beloved, and Baba was so clearly waiting for her with such happiness.

Six years would pass before I realized in giving me that experience, Baba prepared me for my mother's passing. That's another beautiful story, for another time.

There's a wonderful account in Kitty's book, Love Alone Prevails, of an occasion when Baba spontaneously spoke to them about the illusion of death. In an excerpt from her diary, Kitty writes:

"One afternoon, several close ones were sitting with Baba on Meherabad Hill when a cable arrived from Margaret in England informing them that Mable Ryan had passed on. (Mabel was Margaret's partner in their dancing school.) A sadness fell over the group and Baba asked, "Why are you sad? Mabel has come to Me. She is still here, where else can she go? Only you do not see her, for being without her coat and hat on, you do not recognize her."

In a letter to Delia, Baba said: "I know how you feel parting with dear Mabel, but Mabel has not parted from you. She is closer to you now that she was or could be before. Love knows no separation and because you loved her so much, nothing, even death as physical separation is called, can break that tie of love there is between you."

Baba tells us one of the essential conditions of true happiness is complete detachment from desires and attachments. But, for most of us, both are ever present in one form or another. Whether it be one's attachment to a parent or child, a spouse, devoted friend, a special talent, food, our home, worry, being right and, particularly addictive, power; all are equally binding.

Intellectually, I know the only answer is letting go by consciously making the effort to remember Baba and surrender it to him. However, even with my inner conviction that Baba's Truth is the only Reality, it is no easy task. And of course, it's not meant to be.

During many visits with the mandali, I could see their detachment in action. They gave and continue to give so much love to thousands of pilgrims, able to do it only because of their love for Beloved Baba and, as Baba would often remind them, His love for them.

I know Baba severely tested His close ones; as Kitty would say, "Suffering was Baba's way of working." But it was rare to catch a glimpse of their personal feelings and it always took me by surprise when I was given such a glimpse.

On one such occasion, I was sitting with Mani in her office at the trust compound, when word came about a particular problem involving a member of Mani's family. It was clearly not good news. I saw an expression of deep sadness come in to Mani's eyes. She looked up at me and held my glance. I felt such pain in that moment that I caught my breath. In the next moment, I watched Mani gather herself and let go of whatever it was. Her wonderful smile returned and we went back to our conversation as if nothing had happened.

I can only strive for that kind of detachment and hope, that in some lifetime perhaps, I will be able to surrender everything to Him.

Another example that comes to mind involves Kitty, who would find herself worn out at the end of the day by the constant flow of people wanting to see her. One evening, after a particularly hectic day, Kitty came onto the back porch of Dilruba and sank in her chair with a weary sigh. Buz and I spontaneously asked her if the suffering ever ended. Kitty thought for a moment and replied, "No, I can't say that it does. It just passes more quickly." And with that, she gave a little laugh, and in her usual light hearted way talked about her day.

The Treasure Within

2007-02-09T07:58:00.000-08:00

Amartithi has just passed and, as happens every year, I relived the day when we heard the news that Beloved Baba had dropped His physical form. Many years would go by before I realized just how significant that day was for me. It was the day when, unbeknownst to me, Baba turned me around to face Him from a different direction--He turned me inward, away from His form towards Him within. I'd like to give you a glimpse of my experience on that unforgettable day.

It was a Saturday morning. I remember well because I was at home making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for Happy Club, something I did every Saturday. Happy Club was a weekly program held at the Center for children from the Myrtle Beach black community. In an unusual "twist of fate," my mother happened to be away in Atlanta with my brother, Charles, directing a play at Emory University. My brother, John, was away in boot camp and his (then) wife, Margaret, had offered to stay with me until mother returned.

Suddenly, the phone rang and it was Kitty to tell me that Elizabeth wanted to see me. I said I would come by and continued what I was doing, taking my time. About five minutes later, the phone rang again and, again, it was Kitty. In a very serious, firm voice she said, "I thought I told you, Elizabeth wants to see you." "Oh," I said, "I'm sorry, Kitty, I thought you meant just before Happy Club." (Elizabeth and I would always leave from Dilruba around 11:00 a.m. and drive downtown to pick up the children; I was seventeen and didn't have a driver's license at the time). Kitty paused and said, "There won't be Happy Club today." In that instant, I'm not sure how or why, I knew immediately that Baba had dropped His body. With a pounding heart, I ran over to Dilruba.

Kitty met me at the door. I took one look at her face and saw that it was true. I went into Elizabeth's room and found her sitting up in bed; there were two tears rolling down her face. She looked up at me and in her calm, dignified manner said, "I awoke this morning at 4:00 a.m. and said aloud, 'I know that my Redeemer liveth.' And I knew Beloved Baba had dropped His form." At 8:00 a.m., Western Union called and the man said, "Mrs. Patterson, in all the years I have delivered telegrams to you, this is one I don't want to give you." Elizabeth told him it was all right, she already knew what it said.

As the day went on, my feelings of sadness and confusion deepened. I didn't have a clue what would happen next or what to do next. All through the years, since meeting Him in 1958, our lives revolved around Baba in the physical body. I pictured Him in Myrtle Beach wearing His pink coat, enfolding me in an embrace that seemed to go on forever. I would see Him in the car leaving from Bund Gardens and me running up to the window hoping for a last glance. I remembered Him at the East West Gathering when He swayed happily back and forth to the quavali music He so loved. In between, our days were marked by the cables we received from Baba and letters from Mani, often containing messages from Baba or Mehera. And I remember the day our greatest prayer was answered when Baba called His lovers to India to be with Him once again in the spring of '69. That Saturday I could not grasp the unfathomable--that we would not see Him again. I had no blueprint for what life would be or could be without the Beloved's beautiful form, the only Baba I had known and loved.

I remember watching Elizabeth and Kitty that Saturday as they immediately began attending to urgent details, the first being to contact as many people as possible in the nearby community with the news. I remember being struck, in the midst of my sadness, by their poise. They didn't let their grief stop them, even for a moment, from doing what had to be done. They seemed to know exactly what He expected from them and what would please Him.

It was years before I realized Baba had given me my first clue that day about what I was to do next. He had shown me, through the examples of Elizabeth and Kitty, that He hadn't gone anywhere, that He was directing their every action. I have often recalled something that happened during one of our morning sessions with Baba in 1962. We were listening to music, when Baba suddenly stopped everything and very deliberately pointed to Himself, gesturing, "I am not this form that you see. It is only a cloak I put on in which I come to visit you." He pointed to our hearts, saying, "Look within and see me as I really am. I am none other than the Highest within you." It wasn't until Baba shed that Divine Cloak, that I began to search for Him within.

Not having had the years of training with the Beloved these extraordinary women did, my journey to an inner awareness of Baba was just beginning and I would later recognize that this journey is the development of an inner relationship with Him.

I am still on that journey, continually discovering what it means to love and please Baba. My memories of being with Baba physically are treasures that are forever etched in my heart. But not a day goes by that I don't thank Him for giving me the opportunity to find the real treasure within.