Om Ganesha,
Morning Pujas and Prayers
December 1, 2007
Namaste my chelas all over the world.
And they called their Guru Mother, confused and depressed.
Mother they said, what is wrong with me?
I did not know how to answer them and so I just loved them all.
Each one who called out my name in the early eighties, I held tight to my breast and those who didn’t know me I held also.
The pain was devastating.
How can I help them?
How can I help myself help them?
They all cried and I wiped their tears as I laid with them on their hospital beds and in their homes or on the street and under the bridges.
Don’t hide, I called out.
Help will come.
They called back to me from all over the world, that help did not come and please Ma teach me to die.
Their ashes began to arrive at my door to be placed in our Sacred Waters The Ganga.
Too Many, Too Young, And Too Close To My Heart.
The ashes of my dead never let up.
Please God tell me what to do, began my prayer with every breath.
We were all caught helpless as the suicides increased.
Bigotry and prejudice reigned the day.
I dedicated my Teaching and my Ashram to help serve.
What an honor to serve those we loved so much.
What pain and grief.
G. R. I. D. was every where.
Gay Related Immune Deficiency
What bull shit.
It was H. I. V. and after a while it was AIDS.
It still is H.I.V. and still AIDS.
STILL. STILL, STILL.
Our work took us on a trail of blood and tears all over the country and other countries.
AIDS became all faces in the mirror.
People were afraid and so they did not get medical attention.
And then there were my heroes, the organizations that truly helped.
The Docs, that opened their offices and their hearts.
Come to me they said.
Thank you for them.
To this day, I thank any God or Goddess that will listen.
How many wandered out of life into death unnoticed?
Flesh became frail.
Memorials became plenty.
Fear still took over.
Fear still does.
I screamed in my Dakshina Kali Jaya’s ear DON’T YOU DARE DIE.
And He wouldn’t dare leave his Ma.
I screamed to every one I met.
I am still screaming.
My heroes,
The lovers and wives and children and Father and Mother’s and Grandchildren of those we lost still come Here to Kashi to mourn their dead.
Yet we did laugh inbetween our tears.
Yet we did camp.
And yes I touched to feet of all my dying chelas, they all became my teachers.
When the blind went blind, I could hardly see.
Can you imagine how it felt for this Mother Guru to be held by my own children who were in so much pain.
I was the one to hold them.
They held me.
Let us fight, I began to scream.
And we did and still are.
This is not about me it is about you and me.
It is not about AIDS, it is about injustice.
It is not that AIDS is the person.
It is the Human Being who happens to have AIDS.
And dam it, IT IS NOT OVER YET.
My Ma’s Jaya went out to Uganda and Ma’s Orphanage was formed.
My son, my Father Centurio took in my children and lived for every one of them.
Monsignor Matthew came to my arms straight from an African Prison.
He is my hero of heroes.
Who can I serve he asked me.
Tortured himself, all he did was want to serve those of his country and any one in pain.
My Ananda Devi after years and years of serving others is still doing so and so are my other chelas.
My Baba says FEED EVERY ONE and indeed we do, Here and in India and Uganda and those who live just a few miles away.
Yes, a few miles away.
THIS IS WORLD AIDS DAY, do we celebrate or do we cry.
I think we do both.
We must never forget our dead or ever give up on the living those living with AIDS.
There are Doctors like my own Dr. Perone who never stops.
So many care givers in Darshan Every Day.
Keep doing, no time to get tired, so much more to do.
Yes my babies are living longer and having full lives now ( my babies are all ages ) And so we light the candles all around the Ganga this night and remember all that there is to remember.
My biggest fear is that we may forget one or two of the thousands and thousands of names.
I ask my dead to help my living and my living to never forget my dead.
Our living and our dead.
Every one’s living and every one’s dead.
And yes, so many are quite healthy and for this I am very grateful.
And yes, so many are quite sick and for this we all must serve.
The love of this day and night can be felt by millions.
The journey is never done.
The dead continue to teach us how to live and love.
Through sweet and bitter thoughts we live and serve, we must.
Our Dead Must Never Be Forgotten Ever.
I write these words as I look over our Ganga in the early dawn Of World AIDS DAY.
How can any of us left behind fear death when there is so much love that will greet us when the breath leaves our bodies.
And as we breathe in life we must breathe in the memory of all who died and all who once walked this great EARTH Of OURS.
I know not how to forget them nor do I ever want to.
Thank you my sons, my daughters for letting us serve you as you loved us and left us with that love.
UNTIL THERE IS A CURE, THERE MUST BE AWARENESS THAT AIDS IS NOT OVER YET.
And so we light our candles and we sing all together.
Listen well my chelas, for someone you know is singing with you or many who you knew are listening to you sing.
MY PUJAS AND PRAYERS ARE THAT WE NEVER FORGET, EVER EVER EVER.
I love you all so very much.
Love Ma
Here are pictures of our Ganga years ago holding our Ashes Of Our Dead On Her Sacred Breast.
Jai Kali Ma Ki Jai
Always at His Feet Of Our Neem Karoli Baba who taught me how to FEED EVERY ONE Ki Jai.
