SRIRAM RAGHAVENDRAN shares a personal story of crisis, courage, and the clarity that gave him a solution in a life and death situation.
My career took me to work in a paper mill in Africa for a year. The factory was in the middle of a dense forest, 750 kms from Dar es Salaam, the capital of Tanzania. The facility was self-sufficient, providing food and accommodation, and there was no need to step outside the premises. In fact, we were advised not to venture into the forest since it was full of wild beasts and considered dangerous. We all took this as a dictum and rarely ventured out; even when we did, we would never lose sight of the factory gate and return as quickly as possible.
One evening, a friend and I were taking a stroll that took us to the factory gate. We walked outside and came to a small stream. Usually, we would have turned around and walked back, so perhaps it was the engaging conversation or the confidence in each other’s company that made us cross the stream without thinking. We walked a little on the other side of the stream, but when we looked back we realized we could no longer see the factory gate. It was the moment when alarm bells started to ring.
“It is difficult to find your way back in a forest.” We had heard this a million times, but never really understood it. Now, we were experiencing it. We turned around and walked back, but could not locate the stream. Every tree looked just like the next one, and a few minutes later we were unsure if we were retracing out steps correctly. Conferring with each other made it clear that we were lost.
Dusk was setting in, and we knew that in 30 minutes it would be pitch dark. With the chirping of the birds, the unrecognizable sounds of the forest grew louder in our ears. My friend was beginning to panic, and I felt a growing chill.
I had been practicing Heartfulness for about 20 years at the time, and many times I had wondered what effect this daily practice of meditation had on me. The effect is so imperceptible that we sometimes assume it has no impact at all. Of course, there was no thought about the impact of meditation at that moment, only an awareness about my situation and my inner state. While I was experiencing anxiety at the conscious level, there was also a sense of calm within. I was worried but not flustered. I instinctively sat down to gather my thoughts, not furiously searching for a solution but quietly reflecting on what was to be done.
Within a couple of minutes, the fog lifted. I looked around, found a suitable tree, and climbed it to a height of 25 feet. This additional height gave me the perspective to see the lights of the factory in a distance and locate the stream. In our attempts to walk back, we had strayed farther away from the path. With this clarity, it took us only a few minutes to reach the stream, cross it, and walk back to safety.
As we practice meditation for years,
we develop a sense of calm,
the noise in the head tones down,
and our inner strength grows,
though we rarely perceive any of this
amidst our busy lives.
I took a long silent walk alone that night (within the factory premises this time!), reflecting on what had happened that day. Though the drama had lasted less than 20 minutes, it felt so much longer. The gravity of the situation struck me. We had certainly faced a crisis, a moment of life and death.
How do we act in these moments of desperation? Do we keep our heads or do we lose them? It depends very much on how we have prepared ourselves to deal with life. As we practice meditation for years, we develop a sense of calm, the noise in the head tones down, and our inner strength grows, though we rarely perceive any of this amidst our busy lives. The way I behaved that day, the depth of response, the resilience in keeping a cool head while facing a moment of truth, offered a revelation on the residual effect of meditation over the years.
Each meditation is like depositing a penny every day in your piggy bank. You do not think about it but just keep doing it. Inevitably, you will come face to face with moments of crisis. You may worry and fret, and it will eat into you. If you have been diligent in contributing every day to your own piggy bank, you will open it to find a treasure inside, beyond your wildest dreams.
Illustrations by ANANYA PATEL
