Category Archives: previously unpublished

posts that didn’t get published but should be published anyway because they’re all beautiful in their own way… right dating put on each..

Shivoham Muruga

[previously unpublished]
written late December 2016

I am Shiva,
I am Bliss.

Tonight I was the second choice singer from the men’s side. The first choice didn’t want to sing – he’d said at supper time that he’d refused to sing before, but sometimes does sing.

I’d sung only safe, or easy, bhajans upto this point since being away from Soma Skanda. Despite learning quite a few new bhajans at Soma Skanda, and being very confident singing them there, I hadn’t sung them here yet. I had an internal spark about this today – it became clear that a big part of Soma Skanda is with me all the time, but needs to come out in the singing.

Satchara Chara Para Purna, Shivoham Shivoham.

Lord Shiva is everywhere. But he works through some of us, selected by him, whose roles in life are to give service always to Lord Shiva. I was reminded this by Babaji at the end of the inauguration, he’d asked me how I was doing, then told me to keep offering seva, service unconditionally, to Lord Shiva. Here at Skanda Vale, they’ve been through a lot over the last half a year since we’ve been away, and were very low on people at times to look after everything. They got hardened by it all, and the temples too. Now it all must be softened again. My bhajan is one of the most powerful to do that, sung by Judith on the last day of the inauguration I think partly to ground everything in a cosmic sense.

I had several comments after the puja about it. It was actually so much harder to sing it here than ever at Soma Skanda, I think partly because the rhythm section of Brother Danny and Brother Tobias were overpowering and slowing down and didn’t speed up when I tried to on the ‘namah shivaya’s’. But the energy is also different, though I did find a very similar resource of energy whilst singing tonight as I would go to in Soma Skanda when singing. But people were quite taken away by the bhajan. It reminded me a little of numerous pujas at Soma Skanda when the Swamis would tell afterwards about what an incredible puja it had been, when I’d been the sole bhajan singer and had tapped fully into the vast ocean of grace that was available there in the temple. I didn’t explain the process to them at all, that I would just offer myself completely at the beginning of puja and then I would be an instrument of Lord Shiva for the entire duration, singing exactly what felt like what he wanted to hear. And Shivoham felt like one of his favourites.

Sri Kamala Lakshmi Namostute

[previously unpublished]
Written late December 2016

Whenever she comes to me, Maha Lakshmi is watching over.

Whenever my heart thrive, and cries for comfort, Maha Lakshmi is there.

Whenever I feel even the littlest bit lost, Maha Lakshmi carries a lamp lighting the way.

Wherever I am, Maha Lakshmi is somewhere nearby.

This isn’t meant to be poetic or lyrical, or metaphorical. It is what I feel and experience throughout life now. I give the name of Maha Lakshmi because it makes it easy to find her in a worldly sense. But really she carries no name. She just is there, watching everything that happens and ask that I do. It’s just this essence of someone divinely beautiful. This is partly why I was so taken away by my experiences with Anja – because, to me, she’s so very beautiful, in all ways, that she carries a very similar energy to Maha Lakshmi. Maybe it was that I wanted more of Lakshmi in my life, and I saw Anja as being able to offer that.

I feel so thoroughly energetically frustrated – there’s so so much Shakti inside of me, and it’s not able to go anywhere. It’s just there. Now more than ever, I feel I need to share that energy with someone compatible, and it doesn’t have to even be for any purpose other than transcending the shakti inside of me into good vibrations. It could be through dancing, or playing music, or physical intimacies, or whatever…. As long as it’s shared with someone else in a good way…

Discontentment at low altitude

[previously unpublished]
Written just before Christmas 2016

Arriving back in Skanda Vale Wales has been a very mixed experience. Knackered when we got here, I crashed out in my old room for the night turning off one alarm after the other until 11, when I stirred properly.

The pujas have been odd. The energy feels almost really lacking. Whereas we’d give it absolutely our all for every single puja in Soma Skanda ashram, here it feels kind of sleepy, and even the Shakti mahabishekam this evening was a mostly sleepy affair. Everybody’s drumming slows down throughout each bhajan, like to the point of near stopping at times, and it’s very hard to sing when the drummer is going much slower than you’re trying to sing. And the acoustics are strange in the Murugan temple and the Shakti temple. But, the Vishnu temple is pretty mega awesome. There’s something much more raw, and alive, in the Vishnu temple.

It’s been great to see the extended family some more. Deep communications with Vikram through kind of dog-talk. Telling stories of Switzerland to those who haven’t been yet.
But there’s key family members missing. Swami Durga, David and Linda and Celina, Ralph… and it feels now strange that the love stuff has subsided somewhat. It was really all-encompassing even a week ago, but somehow it’s shifted somewhat.

And it’s feeling more and more important that I set up my shrine properly when I arrive, and hold regular pujas.

Mountain rescue beauty

[previously unpublished]
Written December 2016

Amritham Madhuram.
Amrithapureshwari, akhilanmadhuram.

We reach the height of the world. The view is extraordinary – everything suddenly completely opens up, the world becomes complete. The sun does superb displays upon it’s disappearance.

Venus shines so incredibly, just West of a mountain peak we’ve just come a little down from.

The world is gentle up here. The wind is still. There is only us here. There’s noone and nothing else here. On top of the world.


The ridge gets narrower and narrower. There are slopes down either side, which get steeper and steeper. I’m concerned about Shakti, who’d showed signs of her hips seizing up earlier in the walk, and I theorise that it’s only because she’s always moving that they seized up properly. She’s obviously unsure about the route, and proceeds very cautiously. I walk on the slope down the side – a little precarious, but I’m aware of Shakti’s nerves and am ready to catch her if she slips. I take a few steps further along as the path gets more awkward, waiting for Shakti’s next moves. Shakti turns around, and darts back the way we’ve come, and descends down the slope on the other side of the ridge, walking fast. I call her, but she’s determined to find an alternative path.

Before I start going after her, I hear a shrill scream. I rush – time suddenly becomes very short. A matter of seconds late could be the end of her life. I get to her, relieved, but completely without idea of what to do. I position myself underneath her, where the slope becomes almost sheer. I have just enough footing and have grip to stay there a while, but my gloves are so thin and my hands start hurting a fair bit.

Shakti looks at me, trying to tell me how frightened she is, she made a mistake and really doesn’t know what to do now. I tell her it’s okay. I will put my life before hers, in whatever way that means. I’m young with a fit body that can recover well from damage – she maybe wouldn’t recover now from any breakages. I’m blessed with this functional body, and it’s really quite an honour to use it in saving a life, no matter what it means for my body. On a deeper sense, that is completely what this life has been about, at least for the last few years. There’s been no greater purpose than the purpose of saving lives, in whatever way. I commit myself fully to saving Shakti’s life.

Swami B calls out asking me what’s going on. I tell him the tricky predicament. He asks me to try getting Shakti up. I try, and strain a lot just to move myself without slipping, but realise it’s impossible to do it safely with my lack of equipment.

All the time, there’s a deep concentration of energy in prayer to Lord Shiva.


Swami B comes down towards us, very reluctantly because it’s so dangerous. I get given a miraculous brainwave to tie my scarf around Shakti’s collar as a lead, and I chuck it to Swami. He’s able to stay a bit higher up where it’s not so steep, so is able to pull Shakti up very successfully.
My attempts to get myself up are futile to begin with – my limited footing became no footing at all, but I find a bit of slate to pull myself up from, and I get to the ridge again.

We keep Shakti on the lead, and I move backwards on my hands and knees pulling Shakti towards me and Swami Narayana pushes from behind. The moon is extremely full, yellow, and has only just risen.
We get to the trickiest bit, and Shakti’s collar slides off her head. I scream assertively, and grab her quickly, and put the collar back on, and take it much more slowly.

Descending, we have to slide down a few parts because it’s too steep to walk. The first slope I hold Shakti on my lap and she gives me complete trust on what’s happening. The next one’s, we get her to slide down alongside us.

Swami Narayana is silent for most of the descent, then opens up that I saved Shakti’s life, and he owes me for the rest of his life. I tell him anyone would have done the same, I just happened to be the one needing to immediately respond.

We drive back to Wales a week or so later. For most of the journey, Shakti needs to cuddle my arm in order to lie down and sleep in the car. Without my arm, she’s restless and won’t settle.


Detachment from sensual wonder

[previously unpublished]
Written November/December 2016

It’s funny that
You can live in the most spectacular place
And it becomes normal
To see everything
As so
And so

I live one day in the life of a teenager, awe-struck quite suddenly by the limitless potential of everything, because something very beautiful enters my heart. And then, I get a very clear message in the temple to let go of everything, because everything is transient and not mine. But it takes quite some time to try to understand this. Why let go of everything when it feels so good to hold on to it?
In the world of Maha Kali, you offer one thing to Mother and you offer your whole understanding of existence to Mother. There are no half measures.

So I fall in love a bit. It just comes, and either I can embrace it or run away from it. I’ve prayed for many years for a world where I can embrace all that is going on inside of me, no matter how good or bad it may be, and so I have to embrace this wonderful sensation of falling in love. It doesn’t matter if she’s here, or there, or anywhere, in an ultimate sense. It’s the energy inside of me that’s scaling me up and down the heights of ecstasy, and my own abilities to just let it happen.

Tumeho Veda puraan

[previously unpublished]
Written November 2016

The heart-wrench of a first heart-to-heart in months mixed with brief spurts of destructive worldliness…. The things I came so deeply away from, both good and bad things, already at the same time, as a dance of the Maha Nataraja.

Everything has calmed. Yesterday was the final day of the inauguration of this great temple. Jagadambe bhavani ma, Jai ma, Jai ma, Jai ma. I almost blacked out as the first murthi, Lord Ganesh, was being brought out of the niche for mahabishekam. I blew the conch long, and felt everything disappearing, thinking that it was going to be like inauguration Sunday all over again when I passed out a number of times. But things became serene. Everything just simply flowed into being, and I had nothing to worry abut.

An interview with Aum

[previously unpublished]
Written late October 2016

Babaji’s words ring a jingle throughout my head for days.

‘Keep giving seva to Lord Shiva.’

The Swamis make comments about me in a white dhoti and red silk shirt. I’d make fine Swami material, I’ve been told a few times before. There’s a bit of a hubbubaloo about my situation in life, that drags itself on till the seminar the following weekend. I felt quite clear for ages that I will sometime bear children and so monkhood cannot be for me, but suddenly with all the stir and the excitements from the weekend I’m starting to imagine myself in brown robes. Brother Simon.

I go over and over these words. How am I to offer seva in the best way to Shiva? Sure, there’s more to do in the temple, and I can really give myself a huge amount to the selfless service, but it feels like there is also a whole world of Shiva everywhere, to offer myself completely to.