True Tales

I wrote this on October 30, 2004 in Bologna, Italy the day before I facilitated White Tantric Yoga for the first time after the Siri Singh Sahib left his physical body.

It might have seemed that we didn’t see each other often, but actually as I went about visiting our communities throughout the world I always brought them back to your dome, or your living room. I collected stories and facts of the family you created and shared them with you.

Who do I talk to now…?

Today I visited the International Music Museum in Bologna and bought the catalogue and thought, “Why am I buying this? All these interesting instruments and stories, will sit on my shelf. There is no one who will be interested to learn, to know, to see, to share them with.”

Who do I talk to now…?

The stories were always deep and inspiring. I think that is why you sent me out. You knew it was the human condition that inspired me. Sometimes I thought people shared with me because they knew it would reach your ear, but today they shared with me, and you are no longer here, and it was inspiring as always.

But, who do I talk to now…?

It was easy to hear you had passed away, because I knew how much you had been suffering. Yet now I wonder if you really were. It seems that everything you did was for us. These last years, too, you were preparing us for a loss so deep that we could never even fathom it.

I wonder, did you suffer? It looked that way to us, but you never complained; you accepted it all as what God had given you. It was even on the tombstone you created for yourself: “Kaytiaa dookh bhookh sad maar; Ayh bhay daat teree daataar.” And, by the way, some people are interpreting that, too, in the most interesting ways…

But, who do I tell that to now…?

You were my best friend and I don’t know that I knew that.