Ram Dass Now

Be Here Now ends with the image of a person standing on a bridge, perfectly reflected in the clear water below. The bridge supports the person standing there as well as taking her from one side to the other. Maharajji is the bridge in my life, the foundation of my faith and the vehicle for my transformation, and the reflection in the water—the great mirror in which I can get a glimpse of my own perfection-to-be.

After all, what is perfect in this life? There is no perfect place to live, and I’ve lived in a lot of places. New York and Montreal had cold nasty winters, ice on the roads, and a long stretch of dark grey months that left me depressed as winter dragged on. Santa Fe was gorgeous huge skies and mountains that glowed red in the setting sun, but seventeen years in the desert was enough dryness. L.A. had perfect weather, but then the ground would suddenly shake. If you ever want to break the illusion that the ground is solid under your feet, live in earthquake territory. And now Florida, with its moist warmth . . . and summer heat and hurricanes.

It’s like the shows on television where people are hunting for a house and have to make compromises. Do you give up having a garage because you love the big closets, do you settle for less square footage because it’s in the right school district, or do you live with noise from a nearby road because the house is perfect in every other way? There’s always something.

Except with Maharajji. Wherever I pushed, there was no impediment, no blockage, no ego in him. Just love. There were no rules to rebel against. There was nothing about him I would have changed, except, of course, him leaving his body. Although I’m sure that was perfect too. Otherwise, I would have kept clinging to something outside myself, waiting for the next instruction, the next pat on the head. So for the last four decades, all I could do was follow to the best of my ability the basic directives he did leave us: love everyone, feed everyone, remember God. It turns out those seemingly simple words embody an entire path for spiritual evolution.

Everything ends. Brahma creates, Vishnu sustains, and Shiva destroys. Marriages crumble, children leave home, parents die, money comes and goes. This blogging experience ends.

And I’m still standing on that bridge, watching myself go by.

Maharajji on bridge to Kainchi