Andy Puddicombe

Blue sky

Anil is the founder of Samunnati, which offers financial, co-financial and non-financial solutions to marginal, small and medium holders, including farmers, agri enterprises, wholesalers and retailers. Anil has over 28 years of experience in Rural, Retail and Agri Banking, and over the last decade his work has focused on creating newer institutions across the country and operating in the financially excluded markets, with corresponding support structures for their capacity building. Anil has practiced Heartfulness Meditation since 1993. In particular, he works with several NGOs to bring Heartfulness programs to them and build their organizational capabilities.


Anil-Kumar.jpg

Anil Kumar

Samunnati

Animesh Anand is an editor, based in Dehradun, India. He loves reading about the spiritual traditions of the world. He also loves music!



animesh_anand.jpg

Animesh Anand

<h4>ANIMESH ANAND explores the nature of cultural differences, how we perceive them, how we transcend them, and how a meditative mind can perceive from a deeper level, avoiding prejudice and bias. This leads to unity amidst the diversity.</h4><hr>Around the time I started meditating, I was studying a particular culture. After I was done with some preliminary reading, it got me thinking, “So how is it that this is so beautiful, but others don’t know about it”? Then, when I read about another culture, I felt the same way. Each of them was so right in their own way. Over a period of three weeks, I felt like I had been two different people!After a few more meditation sessions, it hit me: It was me who was looking for a side to pick. It wasn’t those books. Those books said to me what they wanted to say. And each one wanted my best, in their own way. My line of questioning changed to: what if everyone’s talking about the same thing, but in a different way? Is there a point of intersection?Looking at things with a contemplative mind helps you expand your consciousness– your sense of awareness of the things around you and your own self. You see “the bigger picture.”It helps you slow your brain activity. The increased focus helps you really understand what you are looking at. In terms of learning about another culture, it would be: What are you learning? In what context?Often, we approach a culture, or a faith, with a preconditioned mind. We are born into it, or told that it is the only truth. Our inclination to cultures are deepened by looking at people and the goodness we see in them. That’s a beautiful thing; but we often disregard the fact that we see only a subset of a very large group of people, who are a result of many things – not only their faith, but other factors that are instrumental in bringing about goodness and affecting their choices.<hr><img src="https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/pointsof_Intersection2_700x700_d4d21e023e.jpg?updated_at=2023-04-10T12:06:01.197Z" alt=""><hr>The differences we see in each other are often the result of factors like:<ol><li>Forms of governance. As an example, people born in capitalist societies are often more punctual than those born in socialist countries.</li><li>Geography. People choose their attire depending upon the land they were born.</li><li>Land. This decides what people eat (meat, vegetables or both).</li><li>Size of country. To what extent is a culture strongly or loosely connected? Has there been an intermixing of cultures that has led to what we see today? etc.</li></ol>Meditation helps us see that it’s always easier to see the separators than the integrators. They are more frequent, more prominent, and more fact-based, something our minds gather quick. Integrators happen when the mind’s done its work and the heart operates.<hr><hr><h4>Integrators happen when the mind’s done its work&nbsp; and the heart operates.</h4><hr><hr>After we are done trying to fit another into our pattern of identification – and, in the worst case, failed – we let the heart take over. Imagine if you were lifted from your country and placed in a different country where the language is different. I believe you would pick the language up, eventually. Would you be hungry for long? I don’t think so. You would start communicating, expressing your needs. Others would start responding, and you would develop a sense of how communication takes place in this new culture. How do babies learn a language, anyway?&nbsp;Contemplation helps us see that the intersections are love, harmony, compassion, and kindness. So-called primitive societies are often limited to such integrators. For more complex societies, we can add intersections like zeal to work, being honest, accepting what is rightfully ours, and rejecting what’s not.<hr><img src="https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/pointsof_Intersection3_700x700_4a175c8b63.jpg?updated_at=2023-04-10T12:07:02.033Z" alt=""><hr>An intersection common to all societies is the realization that we are all born, each of us has a desire to live a peaceful life, and each has wishes, a few of which are going to be met and some are not. Each one of us is going to have a life that’s for themselves and for others. The intersection is love.Unity comes with a move toward the higher.&nbsp;&nbsp;Meditation helps us see the higher side. It lets us see the reality among truths. In practical terms, it helps us see the esoteric sides of faiths, which we often tend to miss. While understanding a culture, we are often re-establishing our association with an existing belief system, rather than trying to understand what it really is. Our approach is inherently conformational. Otherwise, the integrators would be more prominent. And our walk toward unity would be faster.Isn’t it ironic that we are pre-disposed to seeking unity in the material world? Because we have a common material interest. Yet, in our personal world, we have found ways to dissociate from others. The same people we work with, might have a different relevance outside the context of work. Bringing it down to a smaller context, when we have a bad day at work, we are eager to go home. When we have conflict within the family, we want to run to work. Think of it in the simplest context: If you were dying of thirst in the middle of a desert, and someone gave you a glass of water, would you be worried about their culture or their religion?<hr>

Points of intersection

<h4>
 ANIMESH ANAND
 gives us some tips on how to identify and cultivate the simple things in
 life that make us happy, rather than trying to create happiness through
 external means.
 </h4>

 <hr class="vertical-space1" />

 
 Ever since childhood, we’ve been bombarded with stressors: to perform
 brilliantly at school, to be awarded a prestigious degree, to get a
 wonderful job, a beautiful partner, a profitable client, a big car, etc.
 It’s endless. What if we were to look at them not as stressors, but just as
 other tasks? As things we don’t need to do if we can’t. What if we
 look at our entire lives like that?
 

 
 Will not having those things make us less beautiful as human beings? I don’t
 think so. Can we use that as a reminder every time we feel stuck and at a
 loss? Imagine feeling low at potentially losing a $1,000,000 business deal.
 Worse, what if the deal comes through but you die on the way home? (Sorry,
 just trying to make a point here!) Every time we “lose,” can we remind
 ourselves of the beautiful things we already have: the spouse who loves us,
 the child who looks at us and sees his entire world, friends who look
 forward to spending time with us.
 

 
 Every day lived well is a day of a few acquisitions and a lot of gratitude.
 

 
 What gives us the strength? Happiness. Sometimes, we seek
 to create happiness, but “to create” can be another stressor,
 because we seek to create something we lack. Could we instead
 identify happiness? Let me explain. Say you like music and playing
 the guitar. Creating happiness would mean that you play the guitar to derive
 happiness out of the activity. Identifying happiness reminds you that you
 are playing the guitar because it makes you happy.
 

 
 Finding something that’s already there is much easier than creating
 something. The distinction may not be that great, but when we’re feeling
 absolutely beaten and someone tells us to create happiness, it is
 yet another difficult thing.
 

 
 We derive happiness from the little things in our lives, and from the people
 we touch and who touch us. Sometimes, I think that all we need is food,
 shelter, clothing, and a few good people. Of course, there’s
 nothing wrong with trying to have it all, but it’s okay not to. It’s
 important to remind ourselves that we are not the doers. In fact, we can try
 with all our might to do the best we can, without entertaining the idea of
 “doer-ship.” That’s the essence of life.
 

 <hr class="vertical-space1" />

 <hr />

 <h4 class="text-center">
 It’s
 important to remind ourselves that we are not the doers.
 In fact, we can try with all our might to do the best we can,
 without entertaining the idea of “doer-ship.” That’s the
 essence of life.
 
 </h4>

 <hr />

 <hr class="vertical-space1" />

 
 Everything in Nature keeps moving. Trees give us life. The Sun shines. Your
 pet dog wags its tail at you. Excellence cannot be forced. It’s already in
 you. The only problem is that we’re bogged down by the hits we take, and the
 idea of doer-ship adds to the burden of negatives. When we don’t feel we are
 the doer, yet we go about doing things, the idea of unhappiness isn’t really
 a burden. Of course, sometimes we will feel down, but it is easier to get
 back on our feet.&nbsp;
 

 
 There are things we can do, and there are things beyond our control. Should
 the world end, who would be there to know if we ever existed? Yet, playing
 our part to save the world is our duty. Since we exist, we must act. We can
 ask. We cannot demand. We can try. We cannot be sure.
 

 
 Forgiveness also helps us identify happiness. Seeking rewards appropriate to
 your efforts is a great thing, but wishing ill for those who deny you those
 rewards is not. Sometimes you feel you’re not being heard. So change course,
 wishing well for those who didn’t hear you. The end result? You are in a
 happier state of mind.
 

 
 What happens when you think about things that make you unhappy? I believe
 they are polarized views of the world, choices, desires driven by choices, a
 perceived sense of loss, generalizations, etc. Of course, choices are what
 make us and they are important. If it weren’t for choices, a man stuck in a
 hole would never pull himself out. But creating a balance is equally
 important and conducive to happiness. It essentially comes down not to
 disregarding things that are not on your palette of choices, but
 just letting them be.
 

 <hr class="vertical-space1" />


 <img decoding="async" width="400" height="600" alt=""
 class="lazyload has-img-center"
 src="https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/identify_happiness2_fb4956081f.jpg?updated_at=2023-04-10T13:01:39.391Z" />
 

 <hr class="vertical-space1" />

 <hr />

 <h4 class="text-center">
 Happiness isn’t always winning. It isn’t
 always having a big smile
 on your face or making merry with family and friends.
 Sometimes happiness is just being able to stand tall in the
 face of adversity.
 
 </h4>

 <hr />

 <hr class="vertical-space1" />

 
 Happiness isn’t always winning. It isn’t always having a big smile on your
 face or making merry with family and friends. Sometimes happiness is just
 being able to stand tall in the face of adversity. Some people spend their
 entire lives malnourished, yet they smile. Why? Perhaps it is because the
 concept of material comfort has not even been planted in their minds. It is
 okay to work for money and success, but without being disappointed if we
 don’t acquire them after consistent efforts. Why do we let the idea of not
 having something that was never ours disappoint us? For everything we have
 lost, for everything we thought we could be, we still are and will always
 be.
 

 
 Once we identify what makes us happy, accepting what we already have, we can
 work on creating something from it.
 

 <hr class="vertical-space1" />

How to identify happiness

ANIRUDH DHANDA

<hr class="vertical-space1">
<h4>ANIRUDH DHANDA explores the way memories trigger heartfelt events and people
 from the past, and remind us of situations that evoke emotional responses. Is this what being human is all about?</h4>

<hr class="vertical-space1">

It always surprises me: Brewing my first cup of tea, walking in the park, hearing a
 particular voice, the chirping of a particular bird, a forlorn leaf falling from the tree, smelling something
 distinct, seeing a person, seeing the sunrise or the longing of the dying sun, inhaling the aroma of food, reading a
 phrase in a book, hearing a song, or a voice in the park.
Any of these and many other similar mundane happenings during my waking hours can remind
 me of somebody, something, some happening, and my mind takes an instant flight in time. I am transported
 unconsciously, and without any active effort on my part, to another time. I smile involuntarily and move on. It’s
 always a different experience in the string of life. It is not fanciful, but belongs to real life.
A steaming morning teacup transports me to my friend’s place in Bolton, England, and I
 see him walking down the stairs still a little groggy and without his specs.
A particular aroma of food makes me instantaneously travel to my mother’s kitchen, or to
 my aunt’s kitchen in Delhi, India, and the taste of peas, mutton curry, or cutlets comes live on my taste buds.
The sight of the dying sun takes me to different locales. I view the entire scene at the
 Shimla Ridge with a single blow of cool breeze on my face.
The whiff of good coffee is enough to vividly remind me of the exhilarating mood at an
 international airport.
A swig of cold beer or sangria being served in a large, shapely glass flies me to Las
 Ramblas in Barcelona.
A hint of perfume conjures up a different picture … so vivid.
How does it happen? Where is that storehouse of memories, which come thrusting through
 all the years gone by, yet is so lively?
I do not want to know the physiology behind it, or the functions of the prefrontal
 cortex, temporal lobe, or the limbic system of the brain. All that is true, and there must still be much more to that
 which is yet to be unraveled by medical science. What I wish to share is the sheer marvel of the whole thing. That is,
 the existence of a storehouse and the immaculate retrieval system which is activated on the slightest of provocation.

<hr class="vertical-space1">
<img class="lazyload has-img-center"
 src="https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/memories2_1cdbb053de.jpg?updated_at=2023-04-05T08:17:42.134Z" />

<hr class="vertical-space1">
I so clearly recollect the voice of my elder brother, which I heard, or thought I heard,
 in a busy market in Guwahati, after more than seven years of him being gone. I cried into my pillow the entire
 evening, something I haven’t done once in the last seven years. Is our karma too imbedded somewhere in a similar kind
 of cloud store?
Attempting to live in the present moment is a utopian arrival at a point where we will
 not be affected by past happenings and future uncertainties. Is it actually that? Or are we running away from your
 past and not dealing with it? Such happening presupposes voluntary death of the prefrontal cortex, temporal lobe, and
 the limbic system of the brain. Would we still continue to be human, I wonder?
Learning from the past and working in the present, unmindful of the future, is the
 beauty of being human, and not deliberate forgetfulness.
<hr class="vertical-space1">


<hr>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">Article by ANIRUDH DHANDA</h4>


<hr>

Memories

Anish hails from the vibrant landscapes of South Africa. He finds immense joy in the enriching tapestry of family life, and balances the demands of the corporate arena with a deep commitment to his family. Heartfulness helps him create a harmonious integration of personal and professional life.

Anish-Dave.webp

Anish Dave

<h4 style="text-align:justify;">ANISH DAVE reflects on parenting, and how the responsibility of a parent is to lay the foundation for their children to carve their own destiny.</h4>It has been said that souls choose the family into which they are born so they can forge ahead in their spiritual journey. We may therefore deduce that there are no unplanned pregnancies, but perhaps, unplanned parenting. Whether planned or unplanned, when a baby is born it is a blessing for the parents who become custodians of the soul. The blessing in turn must be translated into a responsibility that needs to be built on the foundations of faith and love. &nbsp;&nbsp;Parenting may sound common, but it is a privilege that many are not able to experience. With all the added stresses experienced in our daily lives, more and more couples find it challenging to conceive. Added to this, there is pressure from their families to continue the family name, traditions, religious teachings, and the different state of economies. Previously, it was a blessing to have the mum at home full time, attending to every milestone of the child, while the father was the breadwinner. Today, both parents are forced to work in order to meet higher economic demands, leaving a void that cannot be filled easily by caregivers or teachers.&nbsp;Parenting does not come with a manual, which is why it is such a challenge. Some children go through early life with no hurdles, which makes parenting somewhat easier, but this is rather rare in the modern world. Parents, whether single or joint, will have different experiences with raising and nurturing children. If the foundations of love, purity, trust, truthfulness, humility, naturalness, self-respect, respect for others, and knowing right from wrong are taught from an early age, children will hold on to these principles, and they will be on their way to becoming responsible adults and parents themselves. Parents deal with their children's experiences of life-learnings like puberty, bullying, social adjusting, sexual exploration, etc. Some parents have no idea how to deal with these issues.&nbsp;Heartfulness practices enable me to listen to my heart, and this has been a key component of my parenting journey. If my heart is tuned and connected inwardly, the challenges transform into benedictions. Our hearts are connected through love backed by faith.&nbsp;Many parents face challenges with disabled children, mentally challenged children, children with ill-health, and so on. These parents may not realize it but they are gifted with capacity—the capacity to nurture and provide for these special souls. Love and faith will surely make their challenges more acceptable, and easier to navigate.&nbsp;<hr><h4 style="text-align:center;">If my heart is tuned and connected inwardly, the challenges transform into benedictions. Our hearts are connected through love backed by faith.&nbsp;</h4><hr>My hardest-learned lesson as a parent is not to have any expectations for my children. They will go through life, as they must, by undergoing the effects that are afforded through birth. When our children are born, we forget that we are only their temporary custodians. Consequently, we let the ego take over, and we start building dreams and expectations for them. This is bound to lead to disappointment.&nbsp;<figure class="image"><img src="https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/child_destiny2_93f32e0aa9.webp" alt="child-destiny2.webp" srcset="https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/thumbnail_child_destiny2_93f32e0aa9.webp 145w,https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/large_child_destiny2_93f32e0aa9.webp 450w,https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/child_destiny2_93f32e0aa9.webp 450w," sizes="100vw"></figure>Our children will grow up having their own dreams, their own choices, their own paths. When we insist on forcing our dreams and expectations on them, conflict arises, and we risk losing them. We need to lay strong foundations and continue to support our children mentally, spiritually, and emotionally. We can allow them to traverse their own path and let them know that we are there for them when they need us.&nbsp;Communicate! Be someone who listens to them and not just hears them. Yes, there will be challenges, but there will also be celebrations when we overcome them. Yes, there will be tears of sadness and also be tears of joy. We cannot control everything that happens to them.&nbsp;Once we “let go” of control and expectation, and “hold on” to faith and love, their paths will be voyaged with Divinity.&nbsp;

A child’s destiny

AnitaMoorjani.jpg

Anita Moorjani

<h4>
 ANITA MOORJANI explores
 synchronicity as a possibility – something that we allow in our lives
 rather than attract, from our infinite nature.
 </h4>
 
 Synchronicity and the idea of attraction have been given a lot of
 attention in recent years. The thought of things falling into place
 effortlessly because we’re attracting them, is alluring, but I prefer to
 think it is allowing rather than attracting.
 
 
 We’re one with the universe, our purpose is to be our magnificent
 selves, and the external world is only a reflection of what’s inside us.
 A breakdown came in my life when my focus was outward, due to the
 comparisons I made, and the competition this created. I used to feel
 that there wasn’t enough for everyone, which caused greed and
 competitiveness. I always felt the need to convince others to think the
 way I did, instead of embracing our uniqueness and differences.
 
 
 All these feelings came from the view that the universe is limited, when
 it’s actually infinite. It’s capable of growing and encompassing as much
 as we are. It’s up to us to expand and allow in as much as we want, but
 it has to be done from the inside out, not the other way around.
 
 <hr />
 <h5 style="text-align: center">
 Once I realized that there’s nothing outside my infinite self, 
 I could begin to focus on viewing myself 
 as an ongoing work of perfection – but in a way that’s dynamic not
 static. 
 Like a kaleidoscope that turns from one exquisite image to the
 next, 
 perfection is constantly in motion.
 </h5>
 <hr />
 
 <img
 class="img-float-right has-img-center-in-mobile lazyload"
 src="https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/Anita_moorjani_07123d1aa8.jpg?updated_at=2023-04-05T11:56:33.503Z"
 alt="Anita-moorjani"
 />Once I realized that there’s nothing outside my infinite self, I could
 begin to focus on viewing myself as an ongoing work of perfection – but
 in a way that’s dynamic not static. Like a kaleidoscope that turns from
 one exquisite image to the next, perfection is constantly in motion. To
 me, this means seeing beauty in the journey and in the apparent mistakes
 as they take me to another level of understanding. My aim is to feel
 good enough about myself to get to a point of trust, and to let go of
 the outcome. When I observe my own infinite nature, my external world
 reflects this. Then I attract what’s best for me, which is also the best
 thing I can do for the universe.
 
 <hr />
 <h4 style="text-align: center">Article by ANITA MOORJANI</h4>
 <hr />

Tapping into infinity

<hr class="vertical-space1" />
<h4>
 ANITA MOORJANI shares her experience of
 letting go of limitations, viewing herself as an ongoing work of perfection,
 and seeing beauty in the journey and in the mistakes along the way.
</h4>
<hr class="vertical-space1" />

 Synchronicity and the idea of attraction have been given a lot of attention in
 recent years. The thought of things falling into place effortlessly because
 we’re attracting them, is alluring, but I prefer to think it is allowing
 rather than attracting.


 We’re one with the universe, our purpose is to be our magnificent selves, and
 the external world is only a reflection of what’s inside us. A breakdown came
 in my life when my focus was outward, due to the comparisons I made, and the
 competition this created. I used to feel that there wasn’t enough for
 everyone, which caused greed and competitiveness. I always felt the need to
 convince others to think the way I did, instead of embracing our uniqueness
 and differences.


 All these feelings came from the view that the universe is limited, when it’s
 actually infinite. It’s capable of growing and encompassing as much as we are.
 It’s up to us to expand and allow in as much as we want, but it has to be done
 from the inside out, not the other way around.

<hr class="vertical-space1" />
<hr />
<h5 style="text-align: center">
 Once I realized that there’s nothing outside my infinite self, 
 I could begin to focus on viewing myself 
 as an ongoing work of perfection 
 – but in a way that’s dynamic not static.
</h5>

<hr />
<hr class="vertical-space1" />

 Once I realized that there’s nothing outside my infinite self, I could begin
 to focus on viewing myself as an ongoing work of perfection – but in a way
 that’s dynamic not static. Like a kaleidoscope that turns from one exquisite
 image to the next, perfection is constantly in motion. To me, this means
 seeing beauty in the journey and in the apparent mistakes as they take me to
 another level of understanding. My aim is to feel good enough about myself to
 get to a point of trust, and to let go of the outcome. When I observe my own
 infinite nature, my external world reflects this. Then I attract what’s best
 for me, which is also the best thing I can do for the universe.

<hr class="vertical-space1" />

 <img
 alt="tapping-into-infinity2"
 class="has-img-center lazyload"
 src="https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/tapping_into_infinity2_d26a9027dd.jpg?updated_at=2023-04-11T13:52:41.664Z"
 />

<hr class="vertical-space1" />
<hr />
<h4 style="text-align: center">Article by ANITA MOORJANI</h4>
<hr />

Anjana Ramesh

Ankur-Naik.jpg

Ankur Naik

<h4><hr class="vertical-space1"></h4>
Despite studying engineering, I chose Yoga as a career, so that I could take the benefits that I experienced to other youth, and contribute to the development of our collective human consciousness.
To me, Yoga means to be free from the influences of the mind and to be in the here and now. It has many applications in daily life. Saying no to bad influences is easier on the days I am doing Yoga 
than on the days I am not. Once you fall into a rut with bad influences, it becomes increasingly difficult to say no and come out of that rut. Yoga boosts my willpower to listen to the little bird inside me that always knows the right thing to do.
After completing my engineering degree, I was placed in the very first company that came for campus recruitment.
Everything was going very smoothly, but six months into the corporate setup I began to question the whole system. I started looking for alternative careers that were more meaningful. While exploring, I came across a postgraduate liberal arts program called the Young India Fellowship offered by Ashoka University. Having written the CAT exam, I had two options in hand: one was to choose the regular route of pursuing an MBA after engineering to climb the corporate ladder, and the other was to choose an off-beat path by pursuing a liberal arts education and exploring other options. I chose the latter and it turned out to be very soul satisfying. I met students from different streams of education, with different thought process, and amazing teachers. All this opened and stretched my mind to new dimensions.
At Ashoka, I met a Heartfulness Meditation trainer and my life took a turn for the better. I started meditating with her very frequently, sometimes twice daily for many days. I took many friends along also – those who wanted to experience meditation – and all of them had profound experiences. I saw the impact Yoga and meditation were having on other youngsters and decided I should pursue them further and get a deeper understanding. Coincidentally my trainer introduced me to the Heartfulness Fellowship Program, which has a Yoga branch. What more could I have asked for? I decided to go for it. And now the journey continues.
I consider that giving way to peer pressure and competition is because of a lack of self-worth, which happens when we lose touch with our inner self. When we don’t have a practice that allows us to connect with our inner self, we easily fall prey to our shortcomings and negative thought processes, and that can be detrimental for growth.
Once we start going down the path of self loathing, it becomes difficult to be happy with who we are, and we tend to think of ourselves as underachievers. The education system and the society in this era don’t help in this regard either.
In contrast, when you find something that allows you to connect to your inner self, you no longer look outside yourself for validation. You channel whatever it is that wants to make an appearance in the world through you. Once I started meditating, I could choose things that were good for my growth. I became more comfortable with who I was, and didn’t need to prove anything to anybody else to find happiness.
We have immense potential to achieve whatever it is we set out to achieve. And given the state of things in the world today, I am interested in making wise choices that are good for us and for our progeny. Now!
<div class="text-center">
 <img decoding="async" alt="your-anchor-lies-within" class="lazyload has-img-center" src="https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/anchor_fc64ec2b6a.jpg?updated_at=2023-04-10T07:08:26.990Z">
</div>
<hr>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">Article by ANKUR NAIK</h4>
<hr>

Your anchor lies within

Anna grew up in Pittsburgh, with strong ties to her Calabrian family. Her memoir, After Italy: A Family Memoir of Arranged Marriage, is the story of her family.&nbsp;She is also the author of The Courtyard of Dreams&nbsp;and Falling In Love with Natassia. She teaches in the Writer’s Workshop at the University of Nebraska, Omaha.

anna-monardo.webp

Anna Monardo

<h4 style="text-align:justify;">ANNA MONARDO is coming to terms with her parents’ traditional arranged marriage and their struggles to settle in the US and provide a good life for her family. In this brave account, she exposes the problems that many new immigrants face, and honors the roles her parents played in giving her a life free from the shackles of war-torn Europe.</h4>&nbsp;There is a writing exercise I often had my students do in class: Write about your mother’s hands. This ten-minute prompt almost always yielded a fruitful rough draft full of details that were emotionally resonant. Yet, as often as I sat with students for this exercise, I avoided doing it myself. I didn’t want to put down on paper the truth of how I saw my mother’s hands: puffy, hesitant, unsure what to do. Instead, I’d spend the ten minutes writing about my father’s hands: intelligent, capable, chiseled knuckles, and the beautiful rising moons at the base of his fingernails. He was a surgeon, his hand movements confident, which gave me a feeling of safety. In contrast, I often had a feeling that my mother needed help—now!—and that I was the one who was supposed to provide it. There were times in my life when my mother and I spoke daily; still, I did what I could to keep some distance from her.That’s pretty much where I was, emotionally, fifteen years ago when I began to write After Italy: A Family Memoir of Arranged Marriage. In random spurts, I’d been working on this family memoir for years, but in 2008, I committed to the project. Recently, I found this entry in a journal from that time: Writing this family memoir is the scariest story of my life.Overall, we were a happy family; though, as a kid, I shied away from the fact that my parents had had an arranged marriage. I knew that my Italian father had married my Italian-American mother to facilitate his 1949 immigration to the US from Southern Italy, which had been devasted by World War II. I knew that my father was head of a family with six siblings, and that he believed he’d be better able to help his family if he established his medical career in the US and sent help back to them. I knew that, on my mother’s side, her parents were eager for her to marry a man from their native village; plus, as an 18-year-old, mom had thought the 28-year-old doctor handsome. Yes, it was a utilitarian marriage, but also, at first, a love match.After a blissful courtship in Italy, the groom arrived in the US and faced enormous difficulty finding jobs. He was forced to leave his bride with her parents while he worked in various hospitals across the country, trying to fulfill his duty to his family. Meanwhile, the bride had a different vision: Marriage meant they were a unit of two, their first obligation to each other, and she felt abandoned. The worst was when her groom and her father argued over details of her dowry. Dowry? That part of her Old World arranged marriage caught her by surprise. Within the microcosm of one married couple, it was a classic clash of cultures, resulting in a five-year separation. In time, my parents reconciled; I was born, and then my brother, but the wounds from their separation never healed.&nbsp;<figure class="image image_resized" style="width:75%;"><img src="https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/mothers_hands2_d01ec5c4db.webp" alt="mothers-hands2.webp" srcset="https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/thumbnail_mothers_hands2_d01ec5c4db.webp 145w,https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/large_mothers_hands2_d01ec5c4db.webp 800w,https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/mothers_hands2_d01ec5c4db.webp 800w," sizes="100vw"></figure>&nbsp;I always suspected there’d been a dark patch in my parents’ history, but I knew none of the details until I was in my mid-30s, sitting on the beach with my mother in the small Florida town where she and my dad had retired after he’d had a series of illnesses. I really hoped that at this juncture, married forty years, they’d be able to make a fresh start. But as my mother settled into her beach chair and I stretched out on my towel, she began reciting all the ways dad was driving her crazy, now more than ever. She’d recited these complaints before, but this time I pushed: “Why are you always so mad at him?”And then she gave me the blow-by-blow of their long-ago five-year estrangement. The whole story? I had to write a 210-page memoir to unfurl it all, but what I remember of that Sunday at the beach with mom is watching the waves roll up closer as I wondered, “What can I do with this information?” As in most complex domestic disagreements, both sides were right, and also everyone was at fault. “I wrote a diary of those years,” my mother told me, “and I’m leaving it for you. You’ll see!”Four years passed, and my dad died. Sixteen years later, my mom died. When I found the diary, I was still annoyed that she had foisted it on me. I cared enough to keep the diary safe in my metal file cabinet, but not enough to read it. Then, when she had been gone one year and seven months, my kitchen floor needed repair. The workmen slid the refrigerator into the dining area, and the table landed in my office, leaving me only a tiny patch of desk space. The dog’s bed was literally under my feet. I would be confined for four workdays, so I set myself the goal of reading my mother’s diary straight through, like a book.And, as with any powerful book, the diary changed my life.It also changed the family story I was writing. Now I saw all sides, and from every angle the story was sad. I couldn’t help thinking that, given their mutual commitment to stay together, my parents were just a few difficult conversations away from ironing out the misunderstandings between them; a few years of therapy away from healing. But those options were not available to them.<hr><h4 style="text-align:center;">Love is not always something we can gather up in our hands, but that doesn’t necessarily mean love is not there.</h4><hr>Now that I know the fuller story, what I feel for my parents is awe, something like admiration for their resilience, their tenacious hold. They’re long gone, but, while working on this book that is largely about their relationship, I’ve learned some of the most profound lessons they ever taught me. I realize I’ve had too narrow a vision for what love can be. Long-term love, like my parents’, is not always happy. It’s sometimes happy; over time, it’s many different things. Sometimes love doesn’t look like love. Sometimes it looks like fear or anger, maybe confounded misunderstanding. Love is not always something we can gather up in our hands, but that doesn’t necessarily mean love is not there.<hr><h4 style="text-align:center;">Images generated by AI</h4><hr>

My mother’s hands

Anna lives in the Cotswolds in England and since the pandemic has found herself actively involved in local community projects – with the community café and community vegetable growing, joyfully trying to integrate everything experienced and learnt through Heartfulness into community living.

Anna Pearse.jpg

Anna Pearse

<h4>ANNA PEARSE tells a beautiful story about the healing properties of trees, and encourages us all to find our relationships with the natural world that will bring us back to being in tune with Nature.</h4>
A human being is a part of the whole, called by us “Universe,” 
a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, 
his thoughts and feelings, as something separated from the rest 
– a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. 
The delusion is a prison for us, restricting us to our 
personal desires and affection for a few persons nearest to us. 
Our task is to free ourselves from this prison 
by widening our circle of compassion to embrace 
all living creatures and the whole Nature in its beauty.
– Albert Einstein
Sometimes it requires our extreme vulnerability to feel our oneness with the universe. Desperation can serve to open the doors of perception. Nature is always there, all around us, but our normal way is to isolate ourselves within our individuality rather than feeling that we are part of something much greater, beyond our understanding, which we can only wonder at. But she is always there – as this simple story about a human being, imprisoned by their thoughts, shows.
She had been signed off work with stress, and now here she was on this dismal autumn day walking through the park, unable to see her way forward. Her thinking was circular, repetitive, bringing her back each time to that same feeling of hopelessness and weakness. She felt she was being exploited at her work, but that no one in her work place wanted to know. They just wanted her to get on with it. And maybe it was true what her manager had said to her – that she just wasn’t up to it. And she couldn’t face that judgment. Who could she talk to? There was no one who understood, no one who had the patience to listen.
Her pace slowed as she walked off the path and onto the grass, already feeling some comfort there from the softness of the earth and the smell of damp earth. Here was a tree and she was walking towards it. Slowing right down, she noticed a large bump in the trunk around which the bark had grown, and it was just the right height to sit on. She sat and leaned her back against the rough bark. It felt right and natural to sit like that, with the back of her head also in contact with the bark.
After a while she realized that time was passing, and she felt no need to move on. Her thoughts seemed to have lost their weight and heaviness in the presence of this simple comfort. She could feel within her back the life force of the tree and something within her back was answering it. She was rooted, too, and taking her strength from the Earth, which was always there, sustaining all life. There was an energy within her flowing upwards like there was at the core of the tree. It was bringing nutrients and knowledge up from the dark Earth into the sky. The strength of this resonance calmed her at a deep level where there were no words.
<hr>
<h5 style="text-align: center;">There is a seed of wisdom 
planted within her that 
this is a general lesson about all of 
Nature and our part within it.</h5>
<hr>
After some time (who knows how long), she got up. She walked away from the tree feeling like a living being. Everything had changed! The colors around her had resumed their brightness. She had the strength to go on. A door had been opened within her that would be opened again and again. And eventually would stay open. She would always remember this day with reverence.
Years have passed. From time to time she goes back to visit the tree, takes others with her and tells them the story. They stroll around it, touch it, take photos, picnic around it. One time she went with love in her heart, and was shocked to the core at what she saw. All the branches had been cut back to the trunk and were lying round it. She felt pain for the tree, and then this was immediately followed by the thought that it meant she also would die soon.
But the tree was not dead. It had received drastic intervention to save its life by those who care for this park and the trees in it. There was a big lesson for her in that too. And the following spring she saw it with all its bright green leaves growing close to its bark.
She has formed a strong bond with this particular tree, which over the years has taught her so much. Although she focuses her affection on this specific tree, there is a seed of wisdom planted within her that this is a general lesson about all of Nature and our part within it.
<hr>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">Article by ANNA PEARSE</h4>
<hr>

The tree

<hr class="vertical-space1" />
 <h4>
 ANNA PEARSE not only learns to deal
 with anger but also discovers the art of using it as a tool for
 self-development.
 </h4>
 <hr class="vertical-space1" />
 
 Integration has been an important word to me lately. How to use what we
 gain through meditation to affect the changes that are needed for us to
 become fully human? I would like to share what seems like a very
 elementary step in my evolution as a human being, but very real and
 radical to me nonetheless.
 
 
 I had been experiencing a wonderful stillness in meditation and had been
 giving myself the time after meditation to really savor this feeling and
 integrate it into my body and mind, using writing as an aid in this
 process. I carried this stillness into my days. It was the darkest time of
 the year and the stillness within seemed to be in tune with the stillness
 of nature.
 
 <hr class="vertical-space1" />
 
 <img
 alt="simply_elemental2"
 class="has-img-center lazyload"
 src="https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/simply_elemental2_0661cb28bb.jpg?updated_at=2023-04-03T04:02:25.235Z"
 />
 
 <hr class="vertical-space1" />
 
 One evening, however, I was on the phone with a member of my family and I
 suddenly found myself in the grips of anger. It was triggered by a message
 she passed on to me from another member of my family. First of all
 disappointment rose to the surface, and then anger. It felt as though
 anger had taken possession of my body and mind and there was no room for
 anything else.
 
 
 I started to express my anger on the phone and slowly realized that this
 wasn’t the way to deal with it. I had to use it to move myself on without
 entangling anybody else in it.
 
 
 What followed was 12 hours of fire raging through me. I recognized early
 on my habitual reactions: “I shouldn’t be feeling like this after so many
 years of meditation …” followed by lengthy selfjustification. And still
 the fire raged.
 
 
 At some stage in the process there was an understanding that this is fire,
 and then a linking of this to the Heartfulness teaching – only recently
 grasped – that the elements of earth, ether, fire, water and air are all
 contained within the Heart Region. As part of our inner journey in
 this&nbsp; life we need to experience them and work with them in order to
 master them and move on in our development. I remembered also that anger
 can be a pure emotion showing us what needs to change and that it can play
 a purifying role in our development when it is not be directed towards
 another person.
 
 
 Somehow these simple tools allowed me to work through this patiently,
 giving it time. Feeling the elemental nature of the process was a
 wonderful thing. Fire! It was a natural force within that could be
 utilized! So I felt it, saw it and observed it, without judgment.
 
 <hr class="vertical-space1" />
 
 <hr />
 
 <h4 style="text-align: center">
 Somehow these simple tools allowed me to work 
 
 through this patiently, giving it time. Feeling the 
 
 elemental nature of the process was a wonderful 
 
 thing. Fire! It was a natural force within that 
 
 could be utilized! So I felt it, saw it and observed 
 it, without judgment.
 </h4>
 
 <hr />
 
 <hr class="vertical-space1" />
 
 I recognized that in the past anger had triggered a circular process that
 led nowhere. “I shouldn’t be feeling this way” unleashed all sorts of
 complexities including self-justification, sorrows from the past,
 resentment. And then it would arrive back at, “But I shouldn’t be feeling
 this way. …” I was also aware when the cold and distancing emotion of
 resentment tried to assert itself that it was healthier to stay in the
 heat of the fire. Before sleep I tried to clean myself using the
 Heartfulness method, but it wasn’t finished yet. I fell asleep finally and
 woke after a few hours. It was still there so I continued to allow it to
 run its course, using writing as a tool to express it and to help it keep
 moving on. A part of the anger was that I felt I had never been allowed to
 express myself fully. So writing was a good tool.
 
 
 Slowly I realized that the fire was passing; it had run its course. And
 what was left? Love. Love for myself and for my sister – the two
 protagonists in this human drama. And love for those who&nbsp; have given
 me these tools to clean, soften and nourish the heart and then to apply
 the understanding with love to affect real and lasting change, which will
 enable me eventually to be all that I can be.
 
 <hr class="vertical-space1" />
 
 <hr />
 
 <h4 style="text-align: center">Article by ANNA PEARSE</h4>
 
 <hr />

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