Since ancient times, labyrinths have been used for prayer and meditation. They have been carved into stones and built into floors and the grounds of sacred spaces. They have been found all over the world, in diverse geographic areas, and by people with vastly different religious beliefs.
Rama is my new favorite Hindu deity to love. If you read up on Rama online you will see that he is depicted as the ultimate embodiment of truth, virtue, chivalry, honor—the “perfect human” so to speak.
Hari Krishna Hari Krishna
Krishna Krishna Hari Hari
Hari Ram Hari Ram
Ram Ram Hari Hari
For those of you who know a bit about the legend of Rama and Ramayana, Sita (Rama’s wife and the avatar of Lakshmi) was no lily-livered woman of yore. She put men firmly into place, and despite all the emotional trauma, stayed on top like a badass feminist…
Frankly speaking, while I am a Hindu, I am a bit of an atheist. Or rather, I like to call myself a non-conforming spiritualist. My faith teaches me about many a God & Goddess and yes, if I need to turn to divinity for guidance or a shoulder to cry on, I choose to look upon the idol I like and find commonality with.
There has never been a more alive time to know Kali than now, during what Vedic texts and other ancient scriptures deem the Kali Yuga—or era of Kali, era of Vice—which is what the current 1000 years we are in is called. Kali is the fierce and Dark aspect of the Divine Feminine who is comfortable with her rage, using it to call forth great change and destroy all that no longer serves.
I’ve always loved that patch of stillness that succeeds the holidays: No work, no school, no parties to prepare for or gifts to buy. The sun doesn’t rise until 7:20 and it sets again just after 5, abandoning well over half of the day’s 24 hours to darkness. For me, this means I can embrace my tendencies toward hibernation without feeling antisocial. The first quiet days of January feel like a reprieve from the tumult of the previous year.
I stood atop the first Vishnu temple I’d ever encountered in India, in the south, in Madurai. Upon entering the temple I was greeted by a priest who offered me leaves of tulsi and a few sugar cubes as an offering. I soon made my way up to the roof of the temple, after peering into the sanctuary. Though the inside was where worshippers gathered to “see the divine,” it was on the roof where I first encountered what I would call “Vishnu Consciousness” in me.
My mother is Christian, but she is a Bhakti yogi, no doubt. Her entire spiritual practice is that of no-minded devotion. She is not about the letter of the law, but rather the heart behind her worship. I admire that about her, and though I do not believe in the same way she does, I can learn a lot from her devotion.
Hinduism: a religion so old, that most modern-day Hindus themselves find it to be mysterious and enervating to study. It boasts of sciences as advanced as the chanting of the Aum or Om said to kill microbes, and yet it’s reduced to a mere symbolism of temples sometimes. Its holy books have long been lost and reduced to folklore and mythology. And one such book is the Ramayana.
