Meditation on Gurumayi’s Words
Mahashivaratri
by Eesha Sardesai
Concluding Thoughts
As a preface, I’d like to say that, yes, this essay is quite long. And no, I don’t expect you to read it all in one sitting. My goal in sharing these “Concluding Thoughts” is not to give you more work to do (really!). My hope is that you read this for enjoyment—that you find it fun, that it perhaps sparks an idea or two, that it reminds you of your own beautiful experiences on the Siddha Yoga path.
I often find myself thinking, when I’m participating in a Siddha Yoga satsang with Gurumayi, that I could stay in satsang forever. Certainly, I would be happy to be in Gurumayi’s presence forever! And then there’s the magic of the scintillating blue dome, the Siddha Yoga Universal Hall. It is at once expansive and protective, cosmic and deeply familiar. It is also connective—I love how we all, Siddha Yogis and new seekers, come together beneath its sprawling canopy so that we may be with our Guru and receive her darshan and teachings.
As you must have surmised, I am preparing to conclude this set of “Meditation on Gurumayi’s Words,” which has focused on Gurumayi’s teachings from the satsang on February 15, 2026—“Magnify Auspiciousness, Celebrate Mahashivaratri.” I want to share just how grateful I have been feeling to all of you. Thank you for reading and listening to my contemplations on Gurumayi’s teachings. Thank you for giving such careful consideration to the perspectives I’ve shared. Thank you for sharing your own understandings. Because of your receptivity, your enthusiasm, your openness to contributing, and your profound commitment to Siddha Yoga sadhana, my experience has been that we are, in fact, in continuous satsang.
I have mentioned before that I read every one of your comments about “Meditation on Gurumayi’s Words.” That is very much still the case! One of the many things I appreciate about your comments is how varied they are. You have been so gracious in answering the questions I’ve asked at the end of each installment. You have also shared your own, related experiences in sadhana and the insights you have gained. And a number of you have shared your stories of receiving similar teachings from Gurumayi, some of which are from decades ago. I can’t overstate how awesome that is. I feel honored, and humbled, to be in the company of such stalwart Siddha Yogis.
I think it’s fair to say that people of every generation feel a kind of wistfulness, a borrowed nostalgia, for the times that preceded them. We might think, “I wish I had been there for that!” Or “I wish that was happening now!” I have definitely had this thought, this longing, when it comes to all that’s happened in the storied history of the Siddha Yoga path. I have grown up on this path, and still, there’s so much that happened before my time. So many satsangs, Shaktipat Intensives, courses, and retreats with Gurumayi. All of Gurumayi’s Teachings Visits around the world.
When I read the stories that you have so generously shared, I feel that this long-held wish of mine—to have been there—is coming true. We are bridging time as we speak of experiences past and present, and finding in them the common thread: our Guru’s timeless wisdom. I picture Lord Shiva, who is also known as Gangadhara for the way the river Ganga flows from his matted hair. For the past month I have been thinking a lot about Lord Shiva, how he is the embodiment of the Self, and how God, the Guru, and the Self are one. There’s a specific feeling, a particular essence, that I’ve come to associate with my contemplations on the Lord—and when I read your comments, I experience that same essence, as though it’s flowed down to us from its seat at the top of the Lord’s shirsha, his head.
In the spirit of giving thanks, I would also like to take this opportunity to acknowledge the many people I’ve consulted when writing “Meditation on Gurumayi’s Words.” As you may have noticed, I like to draw upon a wide range of source material in my writing. This includes, for example, historical information, scientific and psychological research, and verses and commentaries from the scriptures of India. I always want to be as accurate as possible when representing such information, and I am so fortunate that I can speak to Siddha Yogis who are experts in these fields to check and refine my understanding. Their support has been invaluable. It has allowed me to bring a greater depth of knowledge to these contemplations.
Yet even with the added heft of this research, I feel that I’ve only scratched the surface of all that there is to explore about Gurumayi’s teachings from Mahashivaratri. And my perspective is just that. It’s mine. It’s grounded in my own sadhana and life experiences, and in any understanding I may have consequently gained. As your sharings have illustrated, there are myriad directions in which we can take our contemplations, and it’s valid to explore all of them, even the ones we might eventually dismiss as being off the mark.
It’s important to me that I make this qualification, to stress once more that the thoughts I’ve been sharing are a starting point rather than any sort of definitive conclusion. But insofar as my thoughts may have been useful to you, I’d like to offer up a little something more. In my “Concluding Thoughts” on Gurumayi’s teachings from the satsang on Makara Sankranti, I explained that I’ve learned from Gurumayi just how useful mnemonic devices—especially acronyms—can be for study. Several of you have shared with me that the acronyms I developed for Makara Sankranti helped you to remember the teachings from that satsang—that they supported your own process of contemplation, and that you felt motivated to create acronyms yourself.
In light of that, I thought I’d come up with some acronyms for Gurumayi’s teachings from Mahashivaratri. Here are those acronyms, along with recaps of my contemplations—and, because I just can’t resist, a few more of my musings.
Mantra Always Heals And Liberates (MAHAL)
In the first installment of “Meditation on Gurumayi’s Words: Mahashivaratri,” I contemplated Gurumayi’s teachings about the mantra Om Namah Shivaya. Specifically, I wrote about how Gurumayi said that the nectar of the mantra is very calming—especially when the fire of the world can be intense. I recalled some of the countless times that Gurumayi has held satsang and led us all in chanting Om Namah Shivaya, so that we might invoke the mantra’s healing and protective powers.
As I reflected more on this teaching, the image of Lord Shiva seated atop Mount Kailas came to my mind again. In the course of my research and writing, I learned that one of the Lord’s names is Giritra, he who lives on Mount Kailas and protects his devotees. I find comfort in this name—in this idea of the Lord watching us from his perch above, of his looking after us, granting his protection to whoever seeks it. When we chant the mantra, we call upon this aspect of the Lord. We are humbly asking that he extend his protection to us and to our world.
As I thought about what acronym would be suitable to represent Gurumayi’s teachings on this topic, I wanted something that would be evocative of physical space, and specifically a space that is safeguarded, that belongs to someone, that exists under their auspices. The word mahal in Hindi refers to a palace, to a great and splendid home. It implies a certain grandeur and, of course, a sense of shelter, in that it is a physical structure in which people live or have lived. It’s nice—don’t you think?—to imagine that as we chant the mantra, we are seating ourselves in the Lord’s mahal. We are surrounded by grace, ensconced in the protection of God and the Guru.
Calling on and Accepting the Lord’s Love (CALL)
In the second installment, I focused on Gurumayi’s teaching about Lord Shiva liking his name. I shared how I came to understand the philosophy behind this teaching—that is, how it could be that the Lord will respond to anyone, regardless of who they are and what they have done, if they simply repeat his name. It has to do, I realized, with the Lord’s compassion for his devotees and the nature of this compassion.
I was speaking with a fellow Siddha Yogi, a mentor of mine, shortly after I had written this installment. She encapsulated the point so precisely, by saying, “Well, yes. Of course the Lord wants us to repeat his name. When we call to him, we call out to our true selves. We are coming that much closer to who we are.”
God, the Guru, and the Self are one. We learn this truth on the Siddha Yoga path. By our Guru’s grace, and through our steady efforts, we experience this truth. I like the acronym “CALL”—that is, “Calling on and Accepting the Lord’s Love”—because I find it to be representative of Siddha Yoga sadhana. We call out to the Lord, and he will respond. But what do we do with that response? Do we accept the manner in which that response comes? Do we assimilate it into our being? Do we express gratitude to our God, to our Guru, for meeting us where we are? And what do we understand about ourselves in the process?
Recently, I have been thinking about the many sahasranamas that are dedicated to Lord Shiva. In Sanskrit, the word sahasranama literally means “a thousand names,” and it is typically used in reference to a hymn that extols a particular deity by enumerating a thousand different names for them. Gurumayi has spoken about how much she loves sahasranamas, and several of these hymns have been recited over the years in Siddha Yoga Ashrams.
When we study and recite a sahasranama, we invoke the grace of that deity. We can also understand more about the deity—and by extension, more about our own Self. This is one reason why I have been sharing with you some of the many names for Lord Shiva. These names are beautiful, fascinating, often relevant to our topics of discussion, and they highlight various attributes of the Lord within.
The thing is, I’ve barely made a dent when it comes to listing all the many names and qualities of Lord Shiva. There are at least a thousand of them, after all! Some of them you may already know. Lord Shiva is Nataraja, for example, the lord of cosmic dance, the one who presides over the creation and dissolution of this whole manifest universe. He is Mahakala, the lord of time, and Mrityunjaya, the conqueror of death. He is Chandrashekhara, the one who wears the crescent moon in his hair, and Omkareshvara, the Lord in the form of the primordial sound AUM. He is also Rudra, the shining and ferocious lord who destroys limitations, the form of Lord Shiva for whom we recite Shri Rudram.
You might like to know that the teardrop-shaped crystals that appear at the end of each installment of “Meditation on Gurumayi’s Words” are a nod to Lord Shiva in his guise as Rudra. According to scriptural texts like the Shiva Purana, the seeds of the rudraksha tree—the same seeds that we string onto japa malas—originally sprang from the tears of Rudra. The Lord was in deep meditation when his tears fell to earth and turned into these seeds. The Lord’s tears symbolize the compassion he has for his devotees, and his wish to alleviate their suffering.
Wonderful, Abundant Yearning (WAY)
In the third installment, I recounted the story that Gurumayi told about the little girl who had asked her parents if they had “booked darshan” with Gurumayi during their visit to Shree Muktananda Ashram. I shared how moved I was by Gurumayi’s response to this story, how she had said “Why not?” in response to the child’s inquiry. It made me reflect on the nature of darshan—how the true experience of darshan takes place in the heart, and how this makes the practice of darshan always available to us.
That said, I want to highlight an important distinction. While the Guru’s darshan is always available to us, while there is endless abundance in this experience, it does not happen automatically. We have to make an effort. That effort is sweet, to be sure, but it’s no less essential for it.
So, what is the way? What specific efforts must we put forth? I have been thinking about this quite a bit since Mahashivaratri—about our discipline in receiving darshan, about how we nurture our yearning for darshan, about how, if we stay with it long enough, the edges of this yearning soften and blur into the very experience it is pulling us toward. I wrote before about setting aside time, each day if we can, to get in touch with the presence of the Guru in our hearts. This is a good, practical step to take. And there is a subtler effort to make as well—a preparation of the mind and heart.
In my experience, we long for things we value. And a lot of times, we can give inordinate value to those things that seem rare or somehow scarce. I mention this because we want to be careful that the value we assign to darshan does not diminish as a result of its being so accessible to us. I don’t think we do this on purpose. I know that if I asked any Siddha Yogi about the value they give to darshan, they would describe it as priceless, as incomparably precious. But I believe there is an inherent value assessment underpinning the choices we make about how we prioritize our time. Anything we think we can put off until tomorrow—anything we believe will be waiting for us whenever we are ready for it—is less immediately important to us than the other things we have prioritized.
But can we really do this when it comes to darshan? We each have a finite number of days on this earth. What is the worth of a day without the experience of darshan? What is the value of a day when we don’t contemplate, or at least bring to mind, the words of the living Guru?
For this reason, we want to keep our longing alive. We want to keep it fresh, and we want to keep it strong. Fortunately, one of the many wondrous—even paradoxical!—aspects of darshan is that the more we experience it, the more our longing grows. This is why, for example, I love to visit the photo collections on the Siddha Yoga path website—the images of nature, of AUMs and hearts in Shree Muktananda Ashram, which are updated daily. These photos depict what Gurumayi is seeing on the grounds of the Ashram. They are an invitation from Gurumayi to share in this experience. When we view these photographs, we are seeing what she sees. We are making our way to the Guru’s presence in our hearts. We are participating in darshan.
Attune To The Universal Notes Emerging (ATTUNE)
The fourth installment centered on Gurumayi’s teaching about the classic tenet, “Ask, and you shall receive.” I examined what it means to “ask” something of God—which I defined as praying to God—and I shared what I have learned from Gurumayi about the power of prayer. This is that prayer is not just a means of having our needs met or our desires fulfilled. It can be a bridge to the abode of God.
Our prayers take on greater meaning, greater potency, when they arise from this space of inner connection. We attune to a universal vibration. I have been reflecting on this ever since I wrote up my initial contemplations on the topic. Specifically, I’ve been mulling over what it requires of us to hear the wisdom of the heart and to be willing to express it—whether that’s to ourselves or to those around us.
I wish I could say that I have always been one hundred percent on board with my own deeper knowing. I have not. At times, I have been remarkably creative in ignoring what I can feel in my bones to be true, opting instead to believe in whatever pretty delusion seems easier, more palatable, more in line with my tried-and-not-always-true ways of thinking. Perhaps this is because the Truth does not always look the way we think it should. It does not always result in immediate gratification. Sometimes it does not result in any gratification, at least not of the desires we initially held. It takes humility to accept this, an openness to set aside our preconceived notions and our sometimes intractable need to be right—or to at least save face if we are wrong.
Gurumayi once told me about an adage that is attributed to Epictetus, a Stoic philosopher from ancient Greece. Epictetus advised, “Don’t demand that things happen as you wish, but wish that they happen as they do happen, and you will go on well.”1
I don’t take Epictetus’ words to mean that we should passively accept wrongdoing. I don’t understand this to be an endorsement of apathy, or of abdicating the responsibilities that attend us as inhabitants of this planet. Rather, I interpret these words as a caution against trying to manipulate our circumstances to fit our personal agendas. My own belief—based as it is on my study of Gurumayi’s teachings—is that much of the nefariousness we encounter in the world is a result of this mentality, of greed that has been allowed to balloon without impediment.
I don’t have the answer for how such rampant greed can be stopped, but I do feel certain that it won’t work for it to be met with more greed. When we make the effort to connect to ourselves, to really attune to the rhythms of the world, then we are more able to take conscious action. We don’t just do what we want. We do what is needed, what is beneficial, what is uplifting and mutually supportive.
Peace Requires Assessing Yourself (PRAY)
In the fifth installment, I shared with you Gurumayi’s exquisite prayer for peace.
I contemplated the connection that Gurumayi was making, between the peace we experience within and the achievement of a wider-ranging peace in our world. I also shared what I have learned from Gurumayi about maintaining an inner stance of prayer—in other words, keeping our hearts soft and capable of empathy. To do this, we must exercise a kind of gentle vigilance over ourselves, participating fully in this world while taking care not to be constantly buffeted by its relentless ups and downs.
I dedicated many paragraphs to my reflections on Gurumayi’s prayer, and my understanding of some of the specific words she used. But a part of me still hasn’t gotten over the fact that Gurumayi offered this prayer in the first place! I am incredibly moved. Our Guru offered a prayer for us, for all of humanity.
Some time ago, Gurumayi shared with me a story from when she was a young child. She was speaking with one of the elders in Gurudev Siddha Peeth and she asked them, “Does God pray as well?”
They told her, “Yes, God also prays.”
And then Gurumayi asked, “What does God pray for?”
The elder said, “God prays for his devotees.”
Gurumayi told me that once she became the Guru, she understood what this meant. Because she prays for her devotees.
I’ve been holding this story in my heart ever since Gurumayi told it to me. Or maybe it just took up residence there of its own accord, recognizing that this is a natural place for it to live. As I have thought more about this story, I have remembered a line from one of my favorite abhangas, Shri Guru Sarikha, which Gurumayi has sung many times in satsang. In the abhanga, the poet-saint Jnaneshvar Maharaj says: śrīguru sārikhā asatā pāṭhīrākhā /itarāñtsā lekhā koṇa karī.
The translation is, “With a protector like Shri Guru, why would I seek the aid of anyone else?” When Gurumayi sang this abhanga during Sweet Surprise a few years ago, she elaborated on this translation, playing off of the word pathi in Marathi, which refers to a person’s back. Gurumayi explained that Jnaneshvar Maharaj was telling us that the Guru always has our back.
I love this phrasing. We are so fortunate, on the Siddha Yoga path, to have a living Guru. We are immeasurably blessed to have a Guru who shows us the way forward and whose grace is always at our back.
Goodness Outlasts Our Despondency (GOOD)
The sixth installment explored Gurumayi’s teaching for us to “plant the seed of goodness” in our lives. Gurumayi spoke about how it is always all right to say something nice to someone—and that we should not be reluctant to do this on account of how they might respond. What is more, even if they are not able to receive the kindness we extend to them in the moment, our words will not go to waste. At some point, that person will remember what we said, how we shared our appreciation for them. Our words will give them the solace they need.
As I wrote before, I understand from Gurumayi that there’s more to “planting the seeds of goodness” than simply wanting to make someone else feel good (though that’s certainly part of it). We also do this to affirm for ourselves who we are, what we stand for, what we want to build in this world. We do this out of respect for ourselves, and for what we have learned from our Guru.
Since I have been speaking so much about Mahashivaratri, the analogy that comes to me relates to moonlight. The moon is supremely unaffected by our choice to look up at it (or not), to acknowledge its beauty (or not). It will shine regardless. Its light will spill out onto the earth below, and it will embrace us in its glow. Just think of all the good that does! The cycles of the moon regulate the tides; in turn, the life cycles of most creatures on earth, from insects to mammals to aquatic amphibians and even parasites, are synchronized with the moon and the tides. Those creatures that can see will rely on moonlight to maintain this synchronization of their life cycles. They will hunt, forage, feed, fly, and reproduce, all based on how much light is emanating from the moon.
I think we can take inspiration from the moon. Right? Why can’t we allow the light within us—the light that has been kindled by the Guru’s grace—to radiate outward in all its glory? How freeing would that be? Because, yes, to share our goodness with others without hesitation or reservation, without concern for how our words and actions will be met, is an act of total freedom.
One of the names for Lord Shiva that I have shared with you is Svayambhu. The name, which is also a word in the Sanskrit language, is composed of two parts: svayam, which means “one’s own self,” and bhu, which means “arising, becoming, producing.” Something that is svayambhu is self-born, self-manifested, wholly independent. It arises from no source but its own self; its existence does not depend on others. Those of you who have lived or traveled in India might also recognize the word svayambhu for its connection to the jyotir-lingam that can be found throughout the country. These lingam are said to be svayambhu—in other words, they are naturally occurring, emerging from the earth without the aid of any human hand. (To learn more about the jyotir-lingam and its significance, I invite you to read Ami Bansal’s wonderful exposition on the topic.)
I say all this because, as we learn on the Siddha Yoga path, Lord Shiva is synonymous with the Self within. So if he is svayambhu—if he is strongly associated with the concepts that svayambhu expresses and the qualities it evokes—then so are we. The light inside of us, the goodness in our hearts, does not require anyone’s validation. It needs no stamp of approval. It just is. And, if we let it, it just flows.
What happens next, moreover, is practically alchemical. I’ve chosen the acronym “GOOD”—Goodness Outlasts Our Despondency—because that’s been my experience of practicing this teaching. It is hard to feel bad about ourselves when we are feeling magnanimous toward others. It is difficult to remain pessimistic about the state of the world—to give up hope entirely—when we are perceiving the light of God in ourselves and seeing it reflected in those we interact with. It is interesting, isn’t it? So often, when we let go of the need for our light to be received, for it to be reciprocated, we find it shining back at us in the most unexpected of ways.
Shiva Encompasses Everything (SEE)
In the seventh installment before these Concluding Thoughts, I wrote about how Gurumayi told us to experience the truth of the statement, “I am Shiva, Shiva is the best.” I shared what I understand “best” to mean in relation to Lord Shiva—and this is essentially what the Indian scriptures tell us, that Lord Shiva is the Self that pervades all of creation. As the scriptures say, and as Gurumayi and Baba Muktananda have taught, “Nothing exists that is not Shiva.” Therefore, nothing can be greater than Shiva. Nothing can surpass him. Lord Shiva is, necessarily, the best.
The phrase “Shiva consciousness” keeps coming up for me. It is a phrase which originates in the Indian scriptures and which, unsurprisingly, I first learned about from Gurumayi. (There is, in fact, a whole set of photos on the Siddha Yoga path website depicting different forms of Shiva consciousness.) I find that this phrase very aptly describes the awareness we are trying to hold when we say, “I am Shiva, Shiva is the best.” We are seeking to experience the presence of Shiva, the supreme Self, within us and outside of us.
Not incidentally, I am also recalling the words of Gurumayi’s Message for 2026, and specifically the fourth line. “Witness! Enlighten your consciousness.” What better way to elevate our individual consciousness than by imbuing it with the awareness of Lord Shiva?
I get that this might seem like one of those things that is easier said than done. You may be thinking, “That sounds nice, Eesha. But how am I supposed to perceive the presence of Lord Shiva, the hand of God, in all that’s going on in my life and in the world? Am I supposed to ignore what doesn’t sit right with me, or what feels blatantly wrong?”
The short answer is no. As I’ve mentioned a few times by now, I don’t equate the act of discerning the Truth with the condoning of any falsehoods that may have preceded it. My point is slightly different. On the Siddha Yoga path, we are about magnifying auspiciousness. We can exercise agency in what we give our attention to, in what we allow to grow in our lives. Instead of letting a cloud of negativity hover over our heads, we can be like Lord Shiva, who has the moon in his hair. We can remember that we have hearts of gold and we can plant the seeds of goodness wherever we go.
Of course, I understand that it’s not always easy to do this. In all likelihood, it will require patience, persistence, and determination. But I think we’re up for this chunauti, as we say in Hindi—this challenge. And okay, fine, I might be giving myself a pep talk here, as much as this is for you. Still, what do you say? What do you think of taking on this challenge? With our Guru lighting our path, with our intention to magnify auspiciousness at the forefront of our minds, don’t you feel that our progress is assured? As Gurumayi says in one of my (many) favorite teachings of hers: “Wherever you place your heart, that is where you end up.”2
Once again, thank you all—really, thanks a million!—for setting aside the time to read and listen to my meditations on Gurumayi’s words. In my introduction, I shared that I’ve come to think of what we have here as a kind of “digital Sadhana Circle.” This last month has felt like a delightful conversation between us, an exchange of viewpoints and experiences as we walk the Siddha Yoga path together.
I want to express my profound thanks to Gurumayi for asking me to offer this seva. I have benefited more than I can say—and more than I could have possibly imagined. The benefits are still unfolding, but there’s at least one that I can share with you now. Ever since I began offering this seva, I’ve had dream after dream after dream of Gurumayi. Continuous darshan. Continuous satsang.
I encourage you to keep meditating on Gurumayi’s words from the Siddha Yoga satsang in honor of Mahashivaratri. If my writings on the subject have done anything, I hope it’s to illustrate that there’s no limit to the wisdom we can uncover—and assimilate, and actualize—when we take our Guru’s words to heart.

1Adapted from Marcus Aurelius, Meditations; Epictetus, Enchiridion (Chicago: Henry Regnery Company, 1956), p. 174.
2Swami Chidvilasananda, My Lord Loves a Pure Heart: The Yoga of Divine Virtues (S. Fallsburg, NY: SYDA Foundation, 1994), p. 24.

