It is believed in ancient cultures that when the student is ready, the Guru will come. And today, I was ready. Or shall I say tired. This mad pace has been fascinating in its hurtling thunder, one day to the next. Every night, I seem to fall asleep instantly only to wake up drained out. The meditation and rain drenched garden with my morning coffee do help ( but that ambience sneakily tempts me to stay there!)
I was thinking aloud two hours ago that this seemed to be a never ending process. The children were in the basement with me, reading and I was looking through my proofs for (hopefully) the last time. For a moment I thought, what kind of crazy person write 70 poems? And why am I so intent on checking it again when 4 other people have already given their 'all clear'?
Pandit Ravi Shankar's melodies calmed my racing heart a little and then a voice said, clearly from the corner:
"You'll get through this pain, Mamma. It will be over soon. Think of your book, next week, or two weeks from now. You have waited so long for this to happen, that this should not frustrate you. Do you need a hug?"
My son, all of 10 years, was my guru tonight. And I am still here at 11.11 pm, thinking of next week or the week after that. His message is with me hours after he has gone to bed. That is the impact of an old soul.
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