“Booking Darshan”

Gurumayi shared a story during the satsang about a seven-year-old child. This child was visiting Shree Muktananda Ashram with her parents, who had come to offer seva. She promptly asked them, “Have you booked darshan with Gurumayi?”

We all laughed with Gurumayi when she recounted this story. Gurumayi said, “I liked hearing that one too. We are definitely in a new, new world.”

And then she said: “Why not, right? Just book it. Darshan may happen at any time. Why not book it?”

As can often happen to me when I’m in satsang with Gurumayi, I had several thoughts come up at once. Several feelings, and colors, and images. I was touched by the little girl’s wish to receive darshan. I was amused by her manner of expressing it. Most of all, I was moved by Gurumayi’s response—“Why not?”

What the child said was, yes, funny and sweet and endearing. At the same time, I felt that Gurumayi was responding to this child with total understanding. I felt that she was recognizing the child’s longing, and she was treating that longing with the utmost care and seriousness.

It is worth noting that this child is seven years old. Her entire life has taken place within the context of a highly digitized world, one that places a premium on efficiency and convenience. “A new, new world,” as Gurumayi described it. A world in which we can come into possession of most things we want with just a few taps of our fingers. Viewed with this lens, the little girl’s choice of words was entirely logical. She was using the vocabulary she was familiar with—the language she had heard from the adults in her life—to articulate and obtain what it was she wanted.

This, however, brings up an intriguing question. What was it that she wanted? A few days after Mahashivaratri, I was speaking with Gurumayi, and I shared with her how delightful I’d found this particular moment of the satsang to be. Gurumayi told me that, at the time this child had expressed her wish, she had yet to receive Gurumayi’s darshan in person. It was not an experience that she’d had before. While she may have heard about in-person darshan from her parents, she herself did not have any reference for being in the physical presence of the Guru.

Yet somehow, she knew that she wanted darshan. So what did darshan mean to her? Why was receiving Gurumayi’s darshan so important to her? What did she envision darshan would be like? How did she imagine it would feel to be with Gurumayi, to talk to Gurumayi? What did she grasp, even subconsciously, about the transformative power of being in the Guru’s presence? She’d had seven years—for her, a whole lifetime—to build up her longing. What intuitive understanding of darshan did she already have?

I have heard Gurumayi speak before about how young children, especially, are close to God. I have understood this to mean that they are not yet so removed from the source that they, and that we all, have come from. Perhaps, in this little girl’s longing for darshan—for an experience that was, on one level, unknown to her—there was an innate recognition. The kind of recognition we might have, for example, when we are standing before a great and majestic mountain, or beholding the silver-blue rush of a waterfall. The recognition that is sparked by the dance of a flame, or flung open in our hearts by the vast expanse of ocean and sky. It is a recognition of oneness, of coming home, of encountering that to which we have always belonged.

Both words that this child used—booked and darshan—are fascinating to consider, especially given this backstory. Of course, I was laughing along with everyone else at her truly adorable choice to put these words together. What a concept, right? That we can “book” darshan just as we might book any other, more mundane thing? That we can receive something as precious, as exalted as darshan “on demand”?

As I mentioned before, however, Gurumayi responded by saying, “Why not?” She gave such credence to this little girl’s idea. That made me pause. And then I asked myself the same question: “Why not? Why can’t we make it a point to receive darshan when we wish to?”

Now, we may not be able to “book” darshan of Gurumayi in person. Being in the physical presence of the Guru does not work like that. But darshan itself, darshan as a spiritual practice, can work like that. It does work like that. Gurumayi teaches us that darshan takes place in the heart. We can experience the presence of the Guru in all its resplendence right here, right now. We don’t need to go anywhere to access this experience.

There’s a beautiful bhajan by the poet-saint Kabir that Gurumayi has sung many times in satsang. It is about this very subject. In the bhajan, Kabir Sahib speaks from the perspective of God and the Guru. He says:

O my dear one, where is it that you are searching for me?
I am with you. I am close to you. I reside in your heart.¹

The poet-saint elaborates on the point later in the bhajan, explaining that “he” does not truly live in a temple, in a mosque, in a holy city, or on a sacred mountain. He does not live in places of pilgrimage. Rather, he is to be encountered in one’s faith and in one’s own heart.

During the satsang on Mahashivaratri, I felt that we were practicing this wisdom. I wrote previously about how the mantra Om Namah Shivaya is a form of Lord Shiva. By chanting the mantra, we were, in fact, receiving the Lord’s darshan. We were in the presence of Mahadeva, the great Lord. We had come before the Adi Guru, the primordial Guru. And we were opening ourselves to the experience of God, the Guru, and the Self being one.

One of the many reasons I love reading your comments on the Siddha Yoga path website is that you often share about how you perceive the presence of the Guru, wherever it is that you are in the world. Recently, a Siddha Yogi from Konolfingen, Switzerland, shared this upon reading my introduction to this set of “Meditation on Gurumayi’s Words”:

Days after the Mahashivaratri satsang with Gurumayi, I was overcome by a growing sense of longing to be with the outer form of the Guru, and I imagined how wonderful it must be to be in Gurumayi’s physical presence. Today, after reciting Shri Guru Gita.​.​.​. I realized that Gurumayi dwells in my heart—in unity with God and my own highest Self. There is no way she could be closer to me than this!

It is an inspired, and inspiring, understanding that this Siddha Yogi has shared. I also find it to be empowering. It prompts me to ask, “What am I—what are we—going to do with this understanding, with this catalyzing knowledge that we can always experience Gurumayi’s presence in our hearts?”

I go back to what the seven-year-old child said, the unwitting wisdom couched in her memorable expression. She spoke of “booking darshan”—that is to say, scheduling it, making an appointment of sorts with the Divine. To book something requires intentionality. It requires forethought and planning. It is true (and certainly it has been my experience) that on the Siddha Yoga path, we can happen upon the Guru’s presence in our hearts without necessarily expecting it. The air around us is suddenly tinged with light; it rustles with a song we hear inside.

But we can also make a more conscious, and regular, choice to experience darshan. We do not have to wait for the proverbial light of the heavens to shine upon us. We can take the initiative. We can choose to set aside time each day to be with our Guru, to receive the Guru’s darshan in our hearts. We can make a regular appointment for it! Just think of all the appointments and events we fill our calendars with. Why not make darshan one of them? Why not make darshan the most special, and essential, appointment of all?

Last year, we examined how the nature of our lives—and their trajectory too—are determined by how we use our time. We all have our daily duties to attend to, our personal and professional obligations. We can also make decisions about our time that allow us to magnify auspiciousness, even within the existing routines of our lives.

Having said all this, I want to turn it over to you.

When you think of receiving Gurumayi’s darshan, and you are wishing to “book darshan” for yourself, what does darshan mean to you? Do you expect darshan to bear specific fruit? Or do you let the magic of darshan manifest as it will?