Dangerous Compassions

sacred song

I was listening to youtube and it went to this sacred song.

I was like–holy crap!  What is this song?  I had not heard it in so long.  I totally forgot about it.  Years ago I listened to it all the time.  I guess the name is not that catchy for me to recall.  Maybe they shoulda named it something else or gave it an easy nickname.

The pic of the Maa I have feelings about.  She is a friend’s ishtadeva.  Well, he’s not my friend, but I used to want to be his friend.  The one who went to Hawaii to live in an ashram of people worshiping this lady.  The “my ishtadeva is prettier than yours” guy who followed me around a farm, trying to convince me to believe in God, when I didn’t–those atheist years.

Ah, those atheist years.  I still feel weird about this guy and his Maa.  Beauty fades–our worth doesn’t come from how we look at all.  My beauty is not what I’m in earth to do.  If it pleases anyone, that’s incidental.

But the song I do not feel weird about.  I feel great about it!  I want to make a calming playlist for youtube, for when I’m too up, which is often.  That one Joanna Newsom album was very regulating.

other Maas

I have been hugged by Amma who is another likable Maa.  Then there’s my ishtadeva, who I am very fond of.  She’s easy to pray to.

sacred song

“The whole world is your own, my child.  No one is a stranger.”  That’s the first quote by her that comes to mind.  I love the idea that I don’t need to be afraid–the whole world is mine.  Like the world’s largest sea shell collection that I leave on the beaches of the world for safekeeping.  The world is my library.  An attitude that shifts how I feel about Everything.

Sri Sarada Devi loved all her children, good and bad.  When I hear cranky activists bicker and shun about who associated with who and is verboten now, I could cry, from the witch hunt aspect, or how Ming and I have been harmed by that style of fuckery.

But mostly I think of Holy Mother and how she loved everyone.  Holy Mother would talk to me, you, Republicans, fascists, silly Libertarians on horses with lotsa guns, peace activists, drug addicts, hockey fans, fanfic writers, pornmakers, artists, mapmakers, high permaculturists, crazy people such as myself–it really didn’t matter.  She would cook delicious foods for us also.  Thanks, Maa.  I need that.


I’m going to keep singing my sacred song!

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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