Receiving Our Spiritual Names

On Yogamaya's birthday a choir of women singers sang for hours, the sweet strains floating and mingling with the rustling of white paper flowers strung up above the meditating crowd. The instrumentalists had a break to warm their chilled fingers and everyone was served hot, spicy chai. As the choir performed the last few songs, snowflakes drifted and spun magically in the sunshine.

Eight days later it was very, very cold and rainy. I sat at Aspiration-Ground, a beautifully modified tennis court. I could see Sri Chinmoy with difficulty, craning around an umbrella whose owner kept tilting to let the water drip off. Just our master's serene face tilted towards us was now and then visible.

At the end of the meditation Sri Chinmoy called for one of his students, Carmen from Prague. Freshly dressed in a sari, having been told what was going to happen, she hurried up to receive a special meditation and her spiritual name.

Then, a surprise, Sri Chinmoy said in his own charming way, "Alright, the New Zealand mother and son, their names I have promised, the daughter's name I have given!"

Standing damply in my plastic rain-cape in front of the little house at the far end of Aspiration-Ground I was told with an affectionate smile: "Either tonight or tomorrow morning you will get your names."

That night, freezing cold, I scanned the dimly lit seated crowds for my son, hoping that having got the message about his name he would not be late. Finally I saw him and his friends trooping in.

Different country groups of Sri Chinmoy's 'spiritual children' performed songs, specially practiced, lined up in front of their master. The students, faces lit by lamps so Sri Chinmoy could easily see each one, received the master's special blessing and returned to the tiered bleachers of Aspiration-Ground to resume their meditation. Soon it was time for Prasad and to go home – the Self-Transcendence Marathon was the next day.

In the morning at Flushing Meadows Park, the only one in a sari, I froze cheering and clapping for the brave runners. To be eligible to enter each runner had to have previously completed a marathon in a time of 3:55:07 or less. My son I found an hour and a half later riding and jumping his bike on a paved area by the lake. The runners were finishing. The freezing crowd as one voice and body roared and waved as Garbitashri flew over the finish line miraculously 12 seconds before 3 hours. She said afterwards it felt as though the Supreme picked her up and threw her over the finish line.

We watched all the runners complete the race before the 4½ hour cut off. Many had tears in their eyes as they finished alongside Sri Chinmoy's car and he blessed each one with a loving gaze, a glance or just the glimpse of his face, lost in some heavenly world.

The sun broke through the chilly grey haze of clouds and warmed us as we began the walk home, criss-crossing around the puddly carpark. Then – a white jeep approached and Sri Chinmoy drove slowly by, again a glimpse of that gentle, other-worldly smile.

Another icy evening. Trophies were awarded to the marathon place-getters amidst loud clapping and cheering as different countries claimed their runners. Prasad was called for. Many long tables were carried in for the blessed food to be placed on for the hundreds of students. Everything seemed to be over – another surprise! – "Alright, the New Zealand mother and son…!"

Like magic, my son had appeared, waiting in front of Sri Chinmoy's little house! I made my way down, to stand beside him, our hands folded. Sri Chinmoy, ever patient, probably waiting for me to calm down, slowly took out everything from his bag – were the names lost? – until he found two zip-lock plastic bags. He unzipped and opened each envelope inside to check the contents then closed everything up again. We were motioned over – "Son first!" – and I watched shivering with excitement, cold and nerves as my son was meditated upon and then blessed on the head with his own spiritual name envelope under Sri Chinmoy's loving hand.

My turn – I stood in front of Sri Chinmoy who seemed so majestic. As he meditated his eyes were like deep pools. With a sweet smile I was handed my spiritual name envelope.

My daughter, Plabita, was invited down for a family photo: the three of us with our spiritual father. "Now the whole family have names!" Sri Chinmoy said affectionately.

Sitting at a picnic table next to the driveway outside Aspiration-Ground we separately opened our special envelopes and whispered our new names to each other: "Nabhoniya." – "Ishtu."