समानुभूति
Samānubhūti

June 24, 2022

Commentary by Ami Bansal and Garima Borwankar

Part VI

In Part I of this commentary, we, Ami and Garima, outlined five aspects of samānubhūti, the virtue Gurumayi gave for her birthday on June 24, 2022. To date, we have put before you our understanding of the first four aspects, and now, in the next two parts of the commentary, we will focus on the fifth aspect:

Samānubhūti is responding to others with gentleness and nonjudgment.

To start, wouldn’t it be useful to probe what it means to respond?

Let’s look at the word for “response” in the Hindi and Sanskrit languages: pratikriyā. This word is made up of the prefix prati, which in this context means “toward” or “in answer to,” and kriyā, which means “act” or “action.” Pratikriyā—or a response—therefore refers to a broad category of actions taken toward or prompted by someone or something else.

Now, the specific nature of the response can and will vary widely. It will be informed not just by what the other party is saying or doing, but also by one’s own attitude, one’s own approach, one’s own presence of mind (or lack thereof), and—as a Siddha Yogi—the fruits of one’s sādhanā.

We want to take a moment now to share with you the guidance we have received many times over the years from Gurumayi, and which many of you have also heard Gurumayi speak about. This guidance is that regardless of whether you have ten minutes or several hours to do sādhanā on a given day, regardless of whether you’re doing one practice or multiple practices on a regular basis, regardless of whether you stick to a set schedule of practices or you have to be more fluid with when and how you practice—you will accrue fruits from your sādhanā, and those fruits will be available for you to draw upon as you go about your life. No effort you make in sādhanā goes unseen by the benevolent eye.

Returning to our discussion: we mentioned that “response” is a broad category of action. There is a whole range of ways in which you can respond to someone or something. You can, for example, respond reactively, driven purely by your emotions or past impressions. Or you can elect to respond prudently, from a sacred place inside of yourself, from a place of greater centeredness within and in a manner that exhibits the virtues you are cultivating.

When your response is alloyed with the virtue of samānubhūti, it possesses unique qualities. Two of those qualities—and the qualities we are highlighting now—are gentleness and nonjudgment. In this part of the commentary, we will study the quality of gentleness in more depth. (In the next part, we will turn to nonjudgment.)

We are certain that all of you are familiar with the quality of gentleness. We say this because as children, gentleness is a quality that we were all able to find in ourselves in the blink of an eye, or, as we’d say in Hindi, palak jhapakate hī.

A staff member in Shree Muktananda Ashram, with whom we’ve been in touch as we’ve been writing this commentary, shared with us a story she’d heard from Gurumayi. We were so chuffed when we heard this story—it came our way so easily, so readily, and at just the right moment. We looked at each other and simultaneously said, “We’ve got to share this story with everyone!”

So now, with great delight, we’ll do just that:

Gurumayi was once playing with a young child who was about four or five years old. He could be rambunctious—even a bit rough—when he played, as children should be.

It was early evening, and they were at the boy’s home. At one point, the boy told Gurumayi that he wanted to show her a gift that he’d received from one of his relatives. He disappeared into a closet, telling Gurumayi not to follow him and instead to stay in the living room.

In no time at all, the boy emerged from the closet, having donned a very special outfit. His pants were a tawny brown in color, with a print that mimicked the texture of bamboo. He wore a matching button-up shirt that had all sorts of fun images on it—silhouettes of elephants, giraffes, and other animals, and even an image of a pair of aviator sunglasses. On his head was a safari-style hat with the brim folded up on the sides, and both his shirt and hat featured a bright white placard that read: “ZOOKEEPER.”

The sun, which was streaming in through the windows, dipped toward the horizon. In the evening light, the thin, summery cloth of the young boy’s outfit took on a diaphanous quality. The grain of the bamboo print gleamed as though it had been threaded with gold. The boy shone.

Gurumayi was in disbelief upon seeing the transformation that had come over him—and just like that! This young child wasn’t just wearing an outfit; he had become the zookeeper. He stood a little taller, and his whole body was palpably suffused with the warmth of his heart. At the same time, his voice became a shade more authoritative; he began walking with his arms out to the sides, as a person does when they are feeling like they’re in command of something, and when they’re about to exhibit their hard-earned accomplishments.

The boy invited Gurumayi to his library-playroom area with these words: “Follow me. We’ve got work to do. There are so many animals needing our attention.”

Once they were in that room, the boy led Gurumayi over to a big white canvas bin that was brimming with many small animal stuffies he had received on different occasions from Gurumayi, as well as from his family and friends. He then curved his body over the bin, which was only a few inches shorter than he was, and slowly pulled out the first stuffie, nestling it in the snug little hollow of his chest. For a few moments, he simply stood there, cradling this stuffie—his body, the expression on his face, his whole being metamorphosed by what can only be described as an unspeakable tenderness. All traces of his roughhousing, which had been on full display just moments before, had vanished.

He very delicately placed his ward on the ground and then repeated this with several more of the animals in his care—the lions and tigers and whales and bears. He cradled them and set them down, one at a time, explaining all the while to Gurumayi exactly what kind of attention each animal required. As Gurumayi watched the boy tending to his animals with such love, such care, such softness, her eyes became moist.

The young boy was so present, and so intent on making sure that Gurumayi felt included—that she felt she was part of the zoo scenario that he was in charge of—that he soon picked up a little bird stuffie and asked Gurumayi to hold it carefully. He instructed Gurumayi to stroke the bird if she wished.

So, Gurumayi took the bird and kissed it. The boy, whose head was bowed while he was busy tending to other animals, happened to catch a glimpse of what Gurumayi was doing. And Gurumayi knew that this zookeeper was pleased, since she saw the corner of his mouth lift into an enchanting smile.

After this, he declared that all the animals were feeling better, and that it was time to move on to other important things.

What a wonderful story, right?

Ami said it immediately took her back to Gurudev Siddha Peeth, to when she was a child offering sevā cleaning and mopping the courtyard with her friends. The courtyard is adjacent to Baba Muktananda’s Samadhi Shrine and Bhagavan Nityananda’s Temple, and it is a place where Gurumayi has given darshan and held satsangs on countless occasions. For Ami and the other children, the Ashram and especially the courtyard were Gurumayi’s home; they emanated the shakti of Shri Guru. They would always jump at the opportunity to join the adults in cleaning this area. Ami recalls cleaning every marble tile and wiping down every tree ring of the mango trees as gently and attentively as possible so as not to disturb the sanctity of this sacred place.

Garima said the boy’s story brought alive for her the memory of when she was ten years old and would read to her mother every day after school. Her mother suffered from chronic migraines and would often have to lie in bed, sometimes for days on end. At such times she wouldn’t be able to do anything—not even read or write, which were her absolute passion. So Garima, as just a young child, would sit next to her and read. Those moments were always quiet and restful, and Garima’s mother would listen with her eyes closed and her hand on Garima’s lap, an expression of peacefulness spread across her face.

We are certain that each one of you reading this commentary will have had similar experiences as children—times when you watched that instantaneous shift to gentleness happen within yourselves. Don’t you see? Gentleness is something that we all know about, something we have long understood on a deep and instinctual level.

Still, that’s not to say we can’t get even more familiar with gentleness, that we can’t learn even more about it—especially since it will have been some time since we were children and this quality came to us with such immediacy. At any age, the strength of gentleness cannot be underestimated.

The word for “gentleness” in the Sanskrit and Hindi languages is saumyatā, and it carries connotations of komalatā (softness and tenderness, like the feel of the fluffy down that covers a baby bird) and sheetalatā (coolness, like the touch of moonbeams). In its adjective form it becomes saumya. Saumya and saumyatā are derived from soma, a name for the moon, as well as a word for “nectar.”

You seek the company of a person who is saumya because they have many of these qualities. Their presence is soothing. When you’re with them, you feel safe and reassured. If your temper is flaring up, you find that being with them cools you down. Their presence alleviates any agitation or anxiety that is whirling around inside of you; it helps you return to a state of calmness.

For us, Ami and Garima, the feeling of saumyatā brings to mind the practice of darshan. On the Siddha Yoga path, we have all come to love darshan—the Guru’s darshan. One of the reasons why is that when we are in the presence of the Guru, when we are gazing at the Guru, all of these qualities arise in our hearts—gentleness, softness, coolness, nectarean joy.

To help you to better appreciate the many shades of meaning inherent in saumyatā, or gentleness, we would like now to share with you a number of words in the Sanskrit, Hindi, and Urdu languages that relate closely to saumyatā. We have learned from Gurumayi how enormously useful it is to explore the varied definitions, connotations, and synonyms of terms such as this one, which are key to our sādhanā.

Saumyatā is associated with prashānti, or tranquility, and with dhīratā, patience and strength. It encompasses santulana, balance; mrudulatā, tenderness; and narma-dilī, soft-heartedness. It implies vinamratā, humility; dayālutā, kindness; sharāfat, honor, good manners, politeness. It is also associated with bhadratā, or goodness, and insāniyat, a sense of humanity. In one who is saumya, all of these stellar qualities shine forth like rays of moonlight—chandra-prabhā—and they soothe and bring luminosity to the world.

In her book Enthusiasm, Gurumayi has dedicated an entire chapter to the quality of gentleness and the necessity of cultivating this quality when doing Siddha Yoga sādhanā. In this chapter, Gurumayi says:

When you are able to convey gentleness, when you are able to exhibit gentleness, when you are able to speak from gentleness, when you are able to act from gentleness, it removes fear. It removes fear in others, and it removes fear within yourself. It opens your heart. Gentleness allows you to trust and move forward. Gentleness relaxes your entire being so that you are able to appreciate the innate goodness of the universe.1

Who doesn’t want to overcome their fear? We all want to do this. In the age of social media, “FOMO”— the fear of missing out—has become pervasive. Many times this fear is just something we ourselves have created. Nevertheless, we let ourselves get ensnared by its tentacles.

According to the Indian scriptures, the feeling of fear arises from the illusion of separateness. This “separateness” refers to the perception and belief that we are cut off from the supreme Self, from God, from our own higher Self. In the mundane world, this fear is often linked to a sense of isolation, a feeling that we are separate from others, that others have something better than we do.

Gentleness has the opposite effect: it forges connection. With that comes untold advantages, such as fostering feelings of calmness, self-confidence, and togetherness with others. Gentleness allows the one who is receiving gentleness to once again experience their connectedness with their heart, with their true Self.

It is no wonder, then, that gentleness is an essential component of any response that demonstrates samānubhūti. As we explain in Part I of this commentary, the sama in samānubhūti refers to the awareness that everything is, in fact, equal, connected, an expression of the same Self; this awareness is, by definition, the antithesis of fear. When you act in a way that exudes samānubhūti, whoever is receiving your goodwill feels that connection. Samānubhūti connects you to you, it connects you to others, and it connects others to themselves.

So, the question is: How do you ensure that you remain limber in your ability to stay in touch with gentleness? How can you store the sensations, the textures, the feelings you associate with gentleness in your awareness, so that gentleness is always available to you?

First, it is essential to recognize and remember what we mentioned earlier—that the quality of gentleness is intrinsic to your being and to everyone’s being. Now, some of you may protest upon hearing this statement. You might say, “Well, maybe once upon a time I used to be gentle, but I don’t think it’s in my nature anymore—I’ve grown to be more of a bold and assertive kind of person,” or “I wouldn’t say I’m gentle—everyone is always telling me how loud and fierce I am.”

Like all positive qualities, gentleness is something that needs to be nurtured and honed. There is instinctive gentleness in the smile of a newborn baby, for example. Yet as the baby grows up, that same gentleness may not always characterize their smiles (unless they make the concerted effort to be genuine in their expressions). Nonetheless, this does not change the fact that every living being has the capacity for gentleness. Gentleness may go underutilized or wholly unused, but it never really goes away for good.

In the Sanskrit text Shrī Lalitā Sahasranāma, “The Thousand Names of the Supreme Goddess (the Supreme Shakti),” one of the names given for the goddess is Saumyā, the “embodiment of gentleness.” This supreme Shakti, the all-pervasive Consciousness represented by the goddess, dwells within each one of us as the prāna-shakti, the power of the life force. So, if saumya is one of the qualities of the supreme Shakti, and this Shakti abides in each of us as our life force, then it follows that the quality of gentleness infuses our being.

And yes, this applies even to those among you who identify as “loud” or “assertive” or “strong,” or anything that might be mistaken as being in conflict with gentleness. In Enthusiasm, Gurumayi teaches that when you are feeling gentleness, what you are actually feeling is great strength within yourself.

Consider the breath, which is one of the main forms in which we experience the prāna-shakti in our being. Just think about how gentle the natural flow of your breath is. It is so gentle, it moves so softly and rhythmically, that most times you hardly notice it as it’s flowing in and out.

At the same time this prāna is powerful enough to sustain your very life. To get a glimpse of the immense power of the prāna, some people who are serious hatha yogis will learn certain prānāyāma, or breath-control techniques. One such powerful breathing technique is bhastrikā, also known as “the bellows breath.” In bhastrikā one vigorously and rapidly inhales and exhales, pushing air in and out of one’s lungs and abdomen. This kind of breathing generates heat inside the body, much like a steady flow of air fans a fire. It has multiple benefits, including warming the body, clearing the air passages, and stoking the inner digestive fire. (Please note that if you are interested in doing prānāyāma exercises, including bhastrikā, it is important to do so under the supervision of an expert.)

A similar analogy is that of a spider’s web. The silken strands of a spider’s web may look delicate, but their appearance conceals an immense strength. According to scientists, the silk from a spider’s web can withstand five times the tension or stress that the same thickness of steel can withstand.

The gentlest things, therefore, are often the strongest. One way that you can experience your own innate gentleness and the strength inherent in it is by becoming aware of the natural flow of your breath. This will automatically help you become centered in your own Self. You will observe, and feel firsthand, how the breath is gentle, how the breath is powerful, and how gentleness is powerful.

To bring about calmness before responding to someone or something, take the support of your breath. It’s there—for you. We spoke earlier about the distinction between a reactive, emotional response to a situation and a more measured and conscientious response. Making the switch from the first type of response to the second—and thereby developing your ability to respond in a way that communicates samānubhūti—can be as straightforward as taking a moment

                                             to pause,

                                                            to connect with your breath,

                                                                           to experience its gentleness,

                                                                                          and then to proceed with your response.

In her Message for 2018—Satsang—Gurumayi invited us to carry out the resolution to Pause and Connect. “At any given moment,” Gurumayi said, “at any given place—pause and connect.”

When you pause before you respond, you get in touch with yourself first. (This coming into communion with one’s own Self is a form of satsang—which is why Gurumayi taught about it in relation to her Message for 2018.) By pausing in this way, you better ensure that you don’t get swept up in whatever emotions may be evoked by the situation. You are equipped to support whoever is in need, to be present with and attentive to them, without taking on whatever it is they’re feeling. It’s like what happens when you’re waiting on the side of a dirt road, looking to cross, and a car drives by. As the car passes, it blows dust all around. The natural thing for you to do in the moment is step back and wait for the dust to settle before you cross. This is because you don’t want to get covered in the dust. Similarly, when you observe that someone is getting caught up in their swirling emotions, it is wise to pause before taking any action, to do what you need to do to ensure that you won’t be unsteadied by their emotions. Then you can respond with your gentleness.

Another way you can reunite with your own gentleness is by practicing a dhāranā. In Part IV of this commentary, we shared with you that Gurumayi has given dhāranās as a means to practice the virtues, to connect with what they feel like in our minds and bodies and to better understand how we may demonstrate those virtues. We led you in a dhāranā on compassion, which is a key aspect of samānubhūti. Now, we will lead you in a dhāranā on gentleness, another essential quality of samānubhūti.

Previously, we had referred to the gentleness that was so familiar to all of us as children. We hope that this dhāranā will give you a head start in reconnecting with your own gentleness.

Choose a private and quiet space to do the dhāranā. Be sure to give it your full attention. You should not engage in this practice while doing any other activity.

motif

Stand in place.

Take a moment to lightly stomp your feet on the floor.

While stomping in this playful manner,

               shake your arms, like they’re leaves on a tree rustling in the autumn wind.

As you continue to lightheartedly stomp and shake your arms,

               turn your head easefully to the left and to the right.

Stand still once more.

Become aware of your breath as it swells and recedes within you.

Now, bring your awareness to your ribcage.

Feel how it expands with your inhalation

               and releases with your exhalation.

Now bring your attention to your abdomen

               and feel this area rising with your inhalation

                              and subsiding with your exhalation.

Continue to focus on the natural flow of your prāna, your breath.

Simply enjoy its movement.

Observe how you are feeling inside your being.

               Are you feeling refreshed?

                              Are you feeling relaxed?

                                             Are you feeling energized?

               Are you feeling like you have access to your inner world?

Take a seat.

               Establish a comfortable posture.

                              Close your eyes.

And now the journey begins.

Your mind will take you back in time to your childhood.

Imagine that you are standing on a wide-open expanse of land

               that is covered in wildflowers.

                              The entire landscape is awash with

                                             blues and pinks,

                                                            yellows, oranges, and reds—

                                                                           flowers of every color imaginable.

You are about to embark on your journey.

To make this journey,

               you place your mind in a flying chariot,

                              like the pushpaka vimāna,

                                             the chariot used by the gods and goddesses

                                                            in the Indian scriptures.

However, this chariot, in your imagination, is unique to you.

               It can take on any appearance you wish.

               You may adorn it in any way that you choose.

Now the chariot is bedecked with the embellishments of your choosing.

The chariot is ready to move forward.

               It is moving.

                              It is rapidly gaining momentum,

                                             and now…

                                                            it lifts off!

Up, up, up into the iridescent sky it soars.

               It keeps rising through the bright white clouds.

You look down and notice that you are passing over

               majestic mountain peaks and winding dales,

                              over turquoise lakes and emerald-green forests,

                                             over sapphire oceans and white sandy beaches.

All around you is exquisite beauty,

               the gorgeous terrain of your memory.

The chariot keeps gliding through the ether,

               as your mind goes back to a memory from your childhood

                              in which you expressed your gentleness

                                             to someone or something.

Suddenly the most familiar fragrance wafts your way, carried on the breeze.

It is a fragrance you associate with your childhood.

This scent gets stronger and stronger as you near your destination.

And now, finally, you have arrived at the age you have chosen to revisit.

Survey the landscape.

Where are you?

               Are you inside your house

                              or someone else’s house?

               Are you outside—

                              somewhere in nature?

               Are you by the ocean?

                              Or perhaps in the mountains?

               Are you in your school

                              or on a playground?

Notice where you are in the world of your childhood.

What is the weather like?

               Is the sun shining and warm on your skin?

                              Or is there a chill in the air?

               Is the sky overcast?

                              And is it raining?

Are you by yourself?

               Or are there other people around?

What objects do you see around you?

Now, as you are revisiting your childhood,

               allow yourself to zoom in on the exact moment

                              in which you happened to be expressing gentleness.

Observe the details of this memory.

               Who or what are you conveying your gentleness to?

Is it a person you love dearly?

               Or is it an animal?

Is it a special tree or a plant?

Is it a character from a story you have heard,

               or from a story you have created in your imagination?

Is it an object that you’re being gentle with?

               Perhaps it is your favorite toy or stuffie.

Notice who or what it is that you are expressing your gentleness to.

Connect with the feeling of gentleness in your being.

How does gentleness feel in your body?

               In your forehead?

                              In the muscles of your face—your eyes, your cheeks, your jaw?

               How does gentleness feel in the back of your neck?

                              In your throat?

                                             In your shoulders and arms?

                                                            In the palms of your hands

                                                                           and your fingers?

               How about in your back?

                              How does gentleness feel in your upper back?

                                             Your mid-back?

                                                            Your lower back?

               How does gentleness feel in your chest?

                              In your solar plexus?

                                             In your abdomen?

               How does gentleness feel in your pelvic bowl?

                              In your thighs?

                                             In your knees?

                                                            In your calves?

               How does gentleness feel in your ankles?

                              And in your feet, all the way to your toes?

And now, have you checked the sensation on your skin?

               How does gentleness feel there?

Oh, yes! How does gentleness feel in your heart,

               in the core of your being?

How does gentleness feel within?

Stay with this feeling of gentleness. Saumyatā.

When you are ready, you may open your eyes.

You may continue to practice this dhāranā—revisiting such moments of gentleness from your childhood and from throughout your life.

This will fortify your relationship with gentleness.

As you know, whenever you think or do something repeatedly—especially with conscious awareness—it becomes second nature to you.

Let gentleness become your second nature.

Let your expression of samānubhūti be replete with gentleness.

Click here to read Part VII

Dhāranā read by Ami Bansal1Swami Chidvilasananda, “The Marvelous Balance of Gentleness,” ch. 10 in Enthusiasm (S. Fallsburg, NY: SYDA Foundation, 1997), p. 126.

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    When I was a child, I knew the virtues of compassion and gentleness, but as I grew up, these virtues seemed to have disappeared. Practicing the dharana and reading the commentary, I experienced compassion and gentleness once again!
     
    I felt warmth in my forehead and eyes, and my perception of the world shifted. I could see the goodness in people, I felt more comfortable in the company of others, and I saw that they were more friendly towards me than I had experienced before. I felt like the little boy in the story who, in assuming the role of a zookeeper, felt taller and more authoritative.
     
    Now I practice this dharana daily so as to keep alive my new, clearer vision. This experience has transformed my life for the better.

    Erina, Australia

    A few weeks ago I was confronted with a difficult family matter. I knew that resolving it would be an intense process full of potential conflict. I also knew that if I could not maintain harmony, the situation would escalate.

    Then I remembered the explanations in Part VI of the commentary about the virtue of gentleness and how powerful gentleness can be. In addition, my daily meditation practice anchored me well in my center. And so, with the intention of practicing gentleness with my family members, I went through all the different challenges—with gentleness.
     
    Looking back, I realize how much this experience has taught me that gentleness is indeed such a powerful force that it even inspires others to be gentle as well.
     

    Unterlangenegg, Switzerland

    As I practiced the dharana, I was drawn to a black-and-white picture of myself at age seven. In the picture, I am posing in front of the camera while steadily holding a tray with a few delicate porcelain cups of Turkish coffee on matching saucers. The photographer captured me on the way to serve our family’s guests.

    I dwelt on this memory, recalling how I had always insisted on serving the after-dinner coffee at my parents’ little parties, and how I served each cup with gentleness, a sweet smile, and without spilling one drop.

    As I continued in the dharana, I realized that, with the twists and turns of life, my childhood gentleness has become submerged in grownup angst, causing me to sometimes speak in a tone that is not gentle. I have been searching for a way to restore my gentleness, and this dharana is my answer. I can’t wait to practice it again and again.

    California, United States

    Practicing the dharana offered in this commentary, I saw myself as a ten- year-old, standing in front of the murti of Lord Hanuman, gently reciting the Hanuman Chalisa with folded hands. The murti was in a small temple on the way to my school. I visited Lord Hanuman every morning from my childhood years into adulthood. These “visits” always filled me with gentleness, which I expressed in my interactions with people.

    When I started following the Siddha Yoga path forty years ago, I continued to visit Lord Hanuman’s temple as well. Then one day, when I stood in front of Lord Hanuman, I heard him telling me inwardly that there was no need to come to the temple every day anymore since I had found the true Guru and a true path. “Go there,” the voice said, “and follow the teachings given by Shri Guru.”

    As I practice the vividly illustrated instructions on samanubhuti, I experience myself sitting under the wish-fulfilling tree, protected by the grace of Shri Guru.

    Udaipur, India

    The dharana brought me back to the moment before the sun rose on the beach during my summer holidays as a child. I would wake up early and go to the beach by myself to experience this wondrous time. It was an intimate, magical moment with the sun, nature’s elements, and myself.

    As this memory came up, I had the awareness that a flow of gentleness was emanating from the scene. It had the power to awaken the gentleness in my own being, a gentleness that was everywhere and permeated everything. I experienced a state of peace, generosity, confidence, and a powerful inner strength I could rely on with certainty.

    I am so grateful for this practice of experiencing samanubhuti through gentleness; it makes my heart blossom.

    Rennes, France

    This commentary is so beautifully written! I love how it explains that to practice samanubhuti is to treat others with gentleness and nonjudgment. This seems very concrete to me and gives me a way to measure if I am practicing this virtue.
     
    As I hold this awareness, I find myself observing the ways in which I interact with others. I will reread this commentary often, so as to practice samanubhuti as best as I can.

    Washington, United States

    This commentary supported me to understand the relationship between gentleness and being relaxed, as well as the aspect of connectedness within and without. 
     
    Participating in the dharana brought back a childhood memory, when I was a little girl and stayed at my grandparents’ house during summer vacations. I would wake up to the sound of my grandpa’s whistling and the smell of breakfast. My grandfather loved to whistle romantic ballads while doing his morning errands, and while my grandma was in the kitchen cooking. I would go to greet them, smiling from ear to ear, “Buenos dias!” (“Good morning!”). They would return my greeting with so much joy. The exchange of our morning greeting always warmed my heart; though it was so simple, it was so full of love. 
     
    Having felt this experience in my body, I can now better understand gentleness. I look forward to practicing this virtue, to connecting with the goodness and ease that arise from it, to responding to life from that space—starting with greeting the day with ease and joy.
     

    New York, United States

    In the dharana, I was drawn back to a moment in my childhood when I was playing with my little brother. I remembered the feeling of love and sweetness I felt at that time and how happy he was to be having fun with me. I recalled that I experienced a distinct feeling of goodness inside myself at the knowledge that my actions were bringing joy to another person and to myself. 

    Then, a memory arose of two young brothers whom I used to take care of. The four-year-old was lovingly calling the one-year-old a special nickname, which only he used for his little brother. Both boys were delighted to be together. The older child’s tenderness and the younger’s adoration of his elder brother were very poignant. I recognized the same sense of joy that I had experienced as a child with my own brother.

    I connected to the quality of gentleness very tangibly through these two experiences. Through them, I recognized that gentleness is an expression of love.

    California, United States

    The story of the zookeeper touched my heart. When I practiced the dharana, I went back to my childhood and remembered caring for an orphaned baby rabbit. I could see myself sitting on the grass with the baby rabbit on my lap, feeling compassion and tenderness. I also felt this tenderness when saving a little squirrel who lost his mother. Now I have a cat who was sick when I got her as a kitten, and I find it very easy to feel this quality of sweet tenderness towards her.
     
    I try to remember this feeling of tenderness as I connect to other people and all living beings, knowing that all souls are pure and tender even if their behavior might seem different.

    Hindelang, Germany

    During my childhood, a lady living in my village told my parents that she was going to keep for me all the little toy soldiers that were included as a gift in packs of coffee.

    Sometime after, on a soft sunny morning, I went to visit this kind lady. She welcomed me by saying my name with great sweetness and invited me to enter her clean house. Then, she opened a pack of coffee and pulled out a silvery soldier. Carefully, she put the soldier into my hands while the scent of coffee was entering my nostrils and her gentleness was permeating my heart.

    Many years later, on the very day Gurumayi gave her talk on gentleness, I was offering seva as a cashier in the Ashram bookstore. As I was slipping one customer’s item into a bag, he told me: “Wooh! It’s gentleness in action!”

    I understand that by infusing gentleness into all my activities—whether it be walking, driving, speaking, meditating—I experience the happiness of the divine Self.

    Rodez, France

    I was so touched by the story of the little zookeeper. Until a month ago my own daily responsibility was taking care of horses. I took them into my heart and adopted them as part of my family; attending to their well-being became my way of giving back to nature. By staying in my care, they were protected and kept free from commercial interests. My mission was granting them freedom to be themselves within the human boundaries that the world gives us. 

    A month ago I had to give up taking care of the last one, my sweet and gentle mare. She was as courageous as the goddess herself. And with the gentleness of a flower petal, every day with her head leaning in to me, she would seek connection with my heart. I owe her and the other horses that have been part of my life for over forty years the gift of unconditional love.

    Hørsholm, Denmark

    This dharana on gentleness almost immediately made me aware of bodily tightness that soon relaxed, melting away with the preparatory movements. A filigreed, crystalline chariot and horses then appeared in my vision, taking me away over beautiful natural expanses; as they rose higher, I wondered where they would take me.

    Suddenly, I was surprised to find myself right back in my childhood home, at the age of fourteen—a time of dynamic life change for me. I was in the living room, while aromas of comfort food wafted from the kitchen. My little dog of many years trotted up to me, and as I stroked his silvery beard, his little tail wagged, which brought a smile up from my warm, tingling heart area. I felt my eyes soften and moisten. This energized feeling spread to other parts of my body too, which then became wholly suffused with a lighter feeling.

    I now have work to do in bringing forth the quality of gentleness that this dharana brought me to see welling up from within me.

    Colorado, United States

    It was so heartwarming to read another story that belongs to the heritage of the Siddha Yoga Gurus. The authors’ openness and their transparency about their own emotions, thoughts, and the nature of their own hearts are pulling me toward a place of deep knowledge and contemplation, where I can find happiness and a sense of gratitude for this beautiful path. It is an opportunity to walk this path with the gentle guidance of Gurumayi ji. It is a blessing for me to be able to access such knowledge with ease and clarity.

    Rome, Italy

    I have been doing the dharana from Part VI every day and enjoy feeling gentleness in my body and my being. My whole body relaxes and becomes very soft. Feeling gentleness in my heart always gives me a shiver of joyful energy. Experiencing gentleness in my inner being connects me in a loving way with my higher Self. 

    These beautiful experiences are stored in my whole being and when I have to respond to a situation during everyday life, it is much easier for me to respond with gentleness.

    Unterlangenegg, Switzerland

    Each part of this commentary on samanubhuti is so rich with discovery and understanding and the writers are so generous in sharing their own experiences.
     
    My experience with the dharana stayed with me as I followed my tasks throughout the day. The childhood memories that came to me, of my own gentleness, all had one thing in common—the gentleness I recalled was that given to me and modeled for me by my family, my teachers, and dear friends. Though my gentleness may have been inside me all along, they showed me how and when to use it. On this day as Pitru Paksha culminates, I thank them again.

    I am also very thankful for this opportunity to study this beautiful word, laden with treasures, and to the intrepid writers for their splendid unpacking of its many dimensions.

    Texas, United States

    As I followed the dharana in Part VI of the commentary step by step, I felt lighter and more comfortable. I went back to being a little girl of about five years old. I was in a beautiful garden in front of my house with other girls and my sister. One day, as I looking at my building, I saw that on the third floor a girl younger than me was squatting there and looking at us. At a certain point I asked her, “Do you want to come and play with us?” And with a huge smile and irrepressible joy, she replied, “Yayyyy!”
     
    After that day, every time I was in the garden I would see her face and ask her the same question and she would give me the same answer. She never came without me asking, she was waiting for my question, she wanted that sweet gesture, and I was happy with her response.
     
    Now that I have recalled those episodes, I feel tenderness for her and for myself.

    San Giorgio a Cremano, Italy

    When I practiced the dharana in Part VI of this commentary, I was propelled back to when I was maybe three years old, and I would brush my mother’s hair at the end of what would have been, for her—a mother of two young children—a very long day. She loved the feeling of having her hair brushed; it was like a little head massage. I remember vividly how her whole being would relax at the first touch of the bristles. Her eyes would shut, and for those few moments, all the tiredness, all the tension of the day would just melt off of her. And I could feel this happening. I was always so happy that I could do something like this for her, that I could, in some small way, make her feel better.
     
    I am deeply grateful to Gurumayi for her guidance to do dharanas to get in touch with the qualities of samanubhuti. Because of Gurumayi’s guidance, this most precious memory and experience of gentleness has been rekindled within me.

    New York, United States

    The dharana took me back to the moment when I, as a ten-year-old girl, was bottle-feeding my baby sister in my house. She was wrapped in a beautiful warm blanket, and as she drank her milk, her eyes shone delicately and divinely. My mother and brothers were nearby, each one focused on different tasks.

    The lullaby that I offered to my little sister spread itself throughout my being. The angelic delicacy that emanated from her covered my body, which gave itself over to taking care of her with great softness. In recalling this, I understand that following my family dharma has always been a path I can revisit to remember those moments of softness from my childhood and throughout my life.
     

    Mexico City, Mexico

    When I found Part VI of the commentary this morning, I was delighted like a child on Christmas morning receiving a beautiful gift with a big golden bow. This gift is unfolding in my heart in the most gentle way. The dharana opened the gateway to the gentleness of my childhood, which I will continue to visit. As I tread this new path of remembered gentleness, it will flow into my present life as I pause, and choose to consciously practice gentleness for myself and others again and again—as my second nature. This practice is so timely for me and I welcome it with all my heart!
     
    It’s changing the way I view the world at this time from feeling like a victim of circumstances to understanding with deep empathy my part and others’ part. I see we are gentle souls doing the best with what we understand at this point, and through the practice of samanubhuti new ways of being and understanding are possible, opening the world in more beautiful, gentle, and loving ways. The gift of samanubhuti continues to unfold in profound, gentle, and practical ways in my daily life.

    Nora, Sweden

    The moment I read about the quality of gentleness being an innate part of the life force within me, I felt gentle and relaxed, with a slight smile in my eyes, aware of my precious heart beating, aware of the sweetness in my dog, the trees, my son. I felt connected to beauty and felt peaceful. I’m so grateful to know how to discover and linger in this space of gentleness.
     

    South Melbourne, Australia