The Cage Is Smashed

The Cage Is Smashed

When my mother was sick with cancer, Guru told me to bring photos of me with him when I went to visit her. A couple of times she would come out of total unconsciousness to respond to a photo, then lapse into unconsciousness again. She seemed to perceive Guru's presence among the doctors and nurses as well. On my birthday, while we were on our Christmas holiday with Guru in Venezuela, my father phoned me to say that my mother had died. When Guru got the message, he called me into his room. As soon as I saw him, I burst into tears. He said, "Don't cry! I am your mother, I am your father!" I said, "Guru, I am not crying because of my mother; I am crying because of your compassion." Guru's very presence was a tidal wave of compassion. It was completely overwhelming. Guru told me not to go back for the funeral because I would only cry. I knew that he was doing everything for my mother on the spiritual plane, but I thought I would certainly be scolded and insulted by my father and brothers for not returning for the funeral. Surprisingly, it was not the case. Very gently my father said, "We are not asking you to come back." Again, I thought there would be a delayed reaction; perhaps on my return to New York they would insult me—but there was absolutely no criticism. Unknowingly, they had completely accepted Guru's divine wisdom. A few days after my mother's death, we were meditating on a broad patio of the hotel. Guru looked up into the vast blue sky and saw one lone bird flying. He said to me, "That is your mother's soul. The cage is smashed." Months later, when I thought about all the ups and downs preceding my mother's death, it dawned on me that she had probably been destined to die earlier, but that Guru had delayed her passing so that I would not be in New York. Guru said it was significant that she had died on the day she brought me into the world. Out of what would ordinarily been a tragic, emotional human experience, Guru made one of the most soulful and meaningful experiences of my spiritual life.

Nemi (New York)