Page 38 of The Love Thief
TWENTY - SEVEN Blessings and Bracelets
My dreamtime visitation with my “future self” catapulted me into some long-lost feelings of optimism and, dare I say, happ—Well, maybe not exactly happiness , but definitely more peace. In fact, I could barely locate my misery level to measure it.
With just a few days left of cooking school in Rishikesh and no solid plan of when I would be leaving India, I decided to stop trying to figure out whether or not to use my return ticket home or accept Maya’s amazing offer to consult on her dream California-style diner for the New Delhi property.
Auntie sent me a message that Agent Turner had called to say it would be at least nine months before the trial and possibly longer since Barry’s MO was to stall and complicate all the legal actions he was involved in.
And, she implored me to stay off social media since it was likely that Barry would try to pull some shenanigans to stop me from testifying.
I already had my Instagram privacy settings arranged so that just a few friends and family could follow my sporadic posts and, even if he knew I was in India, a country of more than one billion people, I would be very hard to find.
Knowing that I wanted to bring home some small special gifts for Mom, Auntie, and Mikey, I decided to do a little shopping to find each of them a gemstone bracelet or necklace, and then ask if Swamiji would bless them.
While I still wasn’t a “believer” per se, I knew my dearest loved ones would just love knowing the gifts had Swamiji’s powerful, healing energy infused in them.
Nearly every day, I had been walking the small streets of Rishikesh on my side of the river, and had passed a little jewelry shop that appeared to be a bit more elegant than the other more touristy stalls located near the ashram.
Pushing through the glass-and-wood front door, a delightful blast of air conditioning welcomed me in.
The long glass cabinets, trimmed in dark wood and brightly lit from within, seemed to be calling my name.
A dazzling array of gemstone bracelets sparkled and next to each bracelet was a short description of the stones and the spiritual gifts they brought.
I was instantly drawn to a pretty peridot and pearl bracelet.
The yellowish-green color of the peridot stones combined with whitish seed pearls was nestled on a piece of black velvet with a little card that said, “Peridot alleviates jealousy, resentment, spite, bitterness, irritation, hatred, and greed. It reduces stress, anger, and guilt, and opens the heart to joy and new relationships. Pearls attract wealth and luck.”
If this wasn’t a sign that I was in the right place, then what would be?
Imagine discovering healing jewelry specifically for my biggest challenge, anger!
The young, handsome salesman noticed my interest and, within seconds, had secured the bracelet on my right wrist while he said to me, “Madam, today’s special price for you, Rs 1,200. ”
Wow, not even twenty bucks! Of course, I said yes and then asked him what stones were good for women seeking enlightenment.
He reached into the display case and presented me with a bracelet of round beads of malachite with small inserts of gold between the stones. “These are known to be gems of transformation and also good for opening the heart to the Divine.”
“Do you have another one just like it?”
As he handed me the second one, he took out his small hand calculator and punched in some numbers.
“Madam, special price for taking two of these is Rs 3,200.”
“I want to buy a bracelet for a man that will increase his wealth. What do you have for that?”
He walked over to another cabinet and came back with a bracelet of unevenly cut gold-looking stones that was interspersed with black lava beads.
“The pyrite is for luck and good fortune, and the lava is for strength and courage. Very auspicious for a man.”
In the back of the store, hanging on a well-lit wall, were dozens of long Rudraksha Mala beads.
Nearly everyone in Rishikesh wore at least one of these.
I knew they were used in meditation and consisted of 108 beads for the 108 names of God with one extra bead, and often a tassel.
I picked out several with different-colored tassels.
Beneath the mala wall was a cabinet that featured a variety of gold charms of the various Hindu Gods and Goddesses, but what really caught my eye was a large double Rudraksha seed set in gold. The description read:
“Wearing this powerful seed can create a space within you that never gets disturbed, which is never in any kind of turmoil, and which outside situations cannot touch. It assists in bringing you to high peaks of consciousness.”
My friendly helper smiled knowingly as he handed it to me. “Madam, this is a very special and powerful piece. Very rare, and we don’t always have them. This one is priced at Rs 10,500. Today, I can offer it to you with a ten percent discount.”
Without me asking, he did the calculation and revealed the price in dollars to be around $138.
I said yes to this as well. It would be my gift to Deepak, my personal Love Walla, for all of his loving care, advice, support, friendship, and countless cups of masala chai.
As my purchases were tallied, I remembered that haggling over price was a respected part of the retail culture in India.
“Oh, and I would so appreciate it if you would give me an extra 10 percent friends and family discount, okay?”
Surprisingly that seemed to work! Each item was placed in a small velvet pouch, along with the description card of what it was. All the small pouches were then placed in one large drawstring velvet pouch with my receipt.
I saluted my kind salesman with my pressed palms over my heart in a namaste before stepping out into the bright sunshine. My feet automatically headed toward the Lakshman Juhla Bridge to cross the river and head over to the ashram.
I planned to grab some lunch at the canteen and also find Sadhviji to ask her the best way to approach Swamiji to bless the newly purchased gifts.
As I walked underneath the ragtag canopy covering the jumble of small stalls, shops, and cafés, I began to feel a bit of melancholy, knowing that I would soon be leaving this place that was slowly feeling like home to me.
I had come to love Rishikesh, where my senses were always enlivened, the water looked wetter, the air sparkled brighter, the scents were a crazy blend of incense, cow dung, and tangy spices.
My ears were tickled and entertained by the sing-song voices of languages I couldn’t understand, and always, always, in the background was a soundtrack of soul-stirring chanting.
I was never a fan of Disneyland and the artificial, over-manicured everything; Rishikesh had become my amusement park of choice.
Simply standing still and observing everything around me was often mesmerizing.
There was a magical, otherworldly quality to this place that filled me up in a way I had never thought about before.
As a lifelong “anti-seeker,” I sometimes wondered if this was the experience Mom and Auntie had been searching for.
Divine timing was definitely at work when I walked through the arches of the ashram and immediately bumped into Sadhviji. She opened her arms to embrace me and instantly knew why I was there.
She laughed and said, “Great timing,” as she took the velvet sack of goodies from my hand.
“Let’s have Pujya Swamiji bless these for you right now,” she said. “Follow me to the garden. He will soon be there to meet with some devotees.”
We walked into a sweet garden and sat under the little hut-like structure on neatly arranged rugs.
When we saw Swamiji approaching, we all began to rise, and he quickly motioned for us to sit down.
As he sat down, he waved for me to come forward.
I scooted toward him on my knees. He looked into my eyes and presented me with a delicate, sacred Rudraksha Mala and placed it over my head.
I was beyond surprised to be receiving such a precious gift.
Sadhviji then handed him my velvet pouch.
While he held it, eyes closed with a serene look on his face, he chanted, in his clear, pitch-perfect voice, before giving it back to me.
In my mind, I took a snapshot of the moment and placed it in my heart.
Being in the presence of Swamiji felt like standing in front of a spiritual furnace. He just radiated love and goodness, kindness and wisdom, and I was hopeful that the blessings he bestowed on those gifts would be transported back to my friends and family as they wore their beads.
As Sadhviji and I walked back to her office, she invited me in, motioned to me to sit on the couch, and asked if I was hungry.
“Starving.”
She picked up her phone and, in Hindi, placed an order. Ten minutes later, two trays arrived with steaming plates of rice, dal, veggies, and chapatis.
As we ate, I timidly asked Sadhviji if she would share with me exactly what kind of healing she received when she first entered Ma Ganga.
I really wanted to understand what kind of pain and suffering she had experienced.
I had, of course, googled her and discovered that she had grown up Jewish in Los Angeles, graduated from Stanford, earned a Ph.D.
in psychology, and was now a revered holy woman who spent much of her time speaking at the UN and major conferences around the world.
She also ran the largest ashram in Rishikesh capable of hosting a thousand people and caring for hundreds of orphans.
She, Swamiji, and the Dalai Lama worked closely on environmental and conservation projects.
And she did all this with a smile on her face and immense humility.
“Holly, it’s a long story, but I am happy to tell you a very short version.
” Sadhviji lifted the tray of food off her lap and placed it on the dark lacquered coffee table in front of us.
She closed her eyes for more than a second while gently placing her hand on her heart and then said, “As a child, I was sexually, physically, and emotionally abused by my birth father. And, even though my stepfather came along and was loving and kind and adopted me, the damage was done. I suffered for many years from eating disorders, addiction, and depression. I was placed in hospitals and treatment centers many times, sometimes for as long as four months. From the outside, my life looked pretty good. My parents gave me everything, including summers at an exclusive camp in the Swiss Alps. I was a great student and had plenty of friends, but mostly as a teen and young adult, I was tortured by my addictions and obsessions.”
She stopped to take a few bites of food. I reminded myself to breathe.
This was not the story I was expecting to hear.
“My essential nature is one of a scientist, which led me to study psychology to try to get a handle on my behavior.
I would discover ways to manage and control myself that would work for a while, but eventually, I would spiral back down into a pit of pain and self-loathing.
The only reason I came to India was to accompany my then husband who was on a mission to find his guru.
“At that time in my life, I had no interest in spirituality, I was not a ‘seeker’ and honestly, the only thing about India that intrigued me was the access to interesting vegetarian food.
One day while my husband was out on his guru search, I took a wrong turn heading back to my hotel and ended up at this very ashram.
“A series of very wild and unusual things happened to me, which I will share with you at a later time, but once I met Swamiji, I quickly knew, in every cell of my body, that I had found my true home here in Rishikesh at the Parmarth Niketan Ashram. It was Swamiji who advised me to give my pain to Ma Ganga. It’s hard to describe in words what happened on that day twenty-three years ago when I surrendered my pain to her.
In many ways, I experienced her as an actual Goddess, and I merged with her essence and became one with All That Is.
I felt the waves outside of me and inside of me, and I lost track of time, my mind became nonverbal, and I was a part of an undulating divine canvas of color and energy and serenity,” she concluded with a long sigh.
We sat in silence for a bit. My food grew cold. My arms were buzzing as I absorbed her story. I wanted to say something, the right something, but words evaded me.
“Holly, what happened to me is also possible for you. While you are now experiencing suffering, in time, you will discover that life is like the ocean. There are days when the sea is calm and we are happy, and there are days when the waves knock us about and we are sad. The spiritual path is to anchor yourself in the depth of the ocean, where life is continuously calm and stable despite what’s happening on the surface.
It’s an expansive state of joy, an experience of life in all of its-all-okay-ness.
In Sanskrit, we call it santosha . It’s the state of utter contentment where you remain satisfied and at ease in spite of the storm. ”
There was that word again, santosha , the term Kurt and Deepak described to me before. I was beginning to believe I was on to something.
But what?