9. What Happens When We Die?

Book Club Reading 9 - Lessons Learned From My Guru The Hard Way

In this class, psychologist Dr. Joshi discusses Babaji's answers to her deep philosophical question: what happens to the soul when someone dies?

Dr. Joshi felt deep grief for the death of her father, searched for the truth, and found comforting answers from Babaji, her wise master.

Some of her questions:
Was her grief for the soul or the body of her father?
Does the soul ever truly die?
Why do people come into and leave our lives?

Transcript

So we took a long break. Last time we talked about, I read a story on Christmas, Right? On empathy and the bearded Babaji that wasn't in the book. And now we're going to pick back up with Chapter 5 of the book, Which is about Kind of an interesting topic because we're starting the year off talking about death. So the topic is, Babaji, Please advise what happens when a person dies. And for those new people, Welcome, You guys. Thank you for coming. We're going to get into kind of like a discussion. I'm not just going to read it straight. If you haven't experienced it before, It's kind of like a group discussion. I would encourage you to think about what I'm sharing and reflect on your own personal experiences. But this is not group therapy. So sometimes we go where people start asking me for personal advice. So we're not going there. So if I don't answer in that way, That's why. Because that's for a different time frame. In place, The group therapy. This is more for you to just reflect and maybe ask some questions, Share some insights, But that's where I'm going to draw the boundary with the group therapy piece, Okay? Okay, So let's get started. Unfortunately, I had still not learned this very difficult lesson of letting go. Consequently, The day my father died. Mark the day of my greatest pain. And as it turned out, My greatest gift. Even though I had not learned how to let go of him at an emotional level. At an intellectual level, I had learned to seek the truth. That is something my dear father instilled in me from my earliest years of life. I remember when I was only seven years old and he was driving me to school on a cold, Snowy New England day. So I grew up in New Hampshire. Some of you may have heard of that. It's very close to the border of Canada. So it's probably like the Himalayas. I've never been to the Himalayas, But very north, Northern and cold. And snow is on the ground like six months out of the year where I'm from. So this is, I shouldn't be feeling cold now even though I am here. This is like summer, You know, Compared to where I grew up. So we were, And we, I lived really, Where we live, We live out in the country, You know, So there's like no houses around. We lived on a place called Blueberry Hill. And it was like maybe a 30, 45 minute drive to get to town. And he was a college professor and there was not much else in the town, Like the college was there. And then there's a green around, It was called the green, So it had four sides. One side was the inn where the people would stay who were coming to visit the college kids or going to that college. And then the other sides were all the, One side was the library, A huge, Beautiful, Really old library. And the two other sides were just the campus, Just the building, That was it, That was our town. Like if you just blinked your eyes, You would be through the whole town. So there wasn't much there. He was a college professor and then just down that same street was where I went to high school and the other younger grades. So that was about it. So we had long car rides every day. To and from school. And even though he had a lot on his plate being a professor, He would always drive us to school. And talk the whole way there, You know, And ask these deep philosophical questions. So on that day. . . The drive always seemed to go by fast because of our talks. My father used to ask me questions that really made me think. On this particular occasion, He asked me, So how do you know that you're not dreaming right now? Can you imagine asking a seven-year-old that? He said, How do you know you're not dreaming right now? My little second grader brain was very stimulated by this question. I thought about it and I replied, Because I'm awake and everything around me is real. He challenged me, Well, How do you know that you're awake? How do you know that everything's real? My gears were turning to keep up with this Ivy League engineering professor's sharp wit. I responded, Well, Because I'm not asleep. And if I pinch you right now, You will yelp. He started laughing and said, Good one. Shasha, The endearing childhood nickname he gave me. I thank God now for these daily deep discussions with my father in which he taught me how to think and dig deep in search of the truth, Which formed the foundation of my personality. My dad also, He was what was called, I mean now it's more popular, But back then it wasn't. It's called systems thinking. So he would explain the long-term consequences. The unintended consequences of my actions now. And I mean, That's really cool if you're in a college class, University class, And the professor's mapping out, If you do this now in 20 years, He could explain the greenhouse effect. But he could also, You know, How all this toxins and pollutions now, What you do and how it's going to, Maybe 50 years down the line, What's going to happen? To the ozone layer, But he also would do it because he's watching us, His four daughters, All the time. So he would explain how our behavior. . . You know, Why that person doesn't want to be friends with you. And I'm like, Oh my God, He would map it out, Because he created a piece of software to do it. So he'd simulate it over time. And he'd say, See, In 10 years, It's going to be like this. And when I got my first boyfriend, He even did it to that extent. You know, I went to college in California, 3, 000 miles away from him, And I had my freedom, And I was in love, I had my first boyfriend, You know, And I came back, I'm like, Dad, This is Peter, You know, And he was like. . . And I'll never forget, We lived out in the country and we had a very long driveway, Long, Thin driveway with all woods going on the sides so you couldn't see anything besides lots of trees and this long, Thin driveway. And I'll never forget, The kitchen was overlooking that driveway, So I was washing the dishes and I saw him and Peter racing each other down the driveway and they look like they're going to kill each other. And Peter was like a college athlete on a scholarship who's a very good soccer player, You know. And my dad was like 30 years older and he thought he was going to beat Peter running down there. And I'm like, Come on, You know. And then they came in and they were like, At each other. I'm like, This is so ridiculous. Thank God my dad did not have a son. I don't know, His son might have not made it to adulthood. But my dad was so competitive and so was my boyfriend Peter. So anyway, So of course, After the week of the visit, My dad made a whole map for me. I think he titled it like, Here's why it's not going to work out with Peter. And I'm like, Come on, He's the love of my life. Come on, I'm talking marriage, Babies. And my dad's like, No, Here's why. And he mapped the whole thing out. You're like this, And he's like that. And if we run it over time, It's going to end up like this. And that was in the first six months or something that Peter came to visit. And we lasted four years. And it was exactly what my dad said in the model happened. And I'm like, Ugh. Next time I'm going to go to Australia, Which I did with the next boyfriend, But that's a different story. So coming back to my dad, So I said that basically he was so intense and he was such a deep thinker and he really pushed me to think through all these unintended consequences of my actions. Fortunately, I was able to draw from my father's teachings to seek the truth behind his untimely death. I asked the hard questions and I did not relent until I got my answer. Not only did I want to know how he died, But also I wanted to know everything I could about the subject of death. I didn't feel afraid of it. After facing death up close, I was just more curious about it than anything else. It took my best friend. So I wanted to know what he experienced in the cause of death. I wanted to know where he was now and what my death experience would be like. My dad and I were really, Really close, So I would ask him everything. I would always, Like, Learn from him about what he experienced in life, You know? So it felt so weird. Like, You know, That day that he died, I wanted to be like, So what was it like? And I'm like, Oh. I can't ask him what it was like. That was the first time I couldn't ask him. He was such a good teacher. He was the Swabhava type, The guru type educator. So he was always teaching. He couldn't help himself. And so I wanted to be like, So what was it like? I had like a hundred questions that I wanted to ask him, You know? But I couldn't and that's when I had to start actually kind of I would say growing up. And searching for myself and not always having him digest and spoon feed it to me. I had to go figure it out myself. So. . . So however, Even though I was so curious about finding out the truth about death, There had been a major obstacle in the way until then. You see, Up until my father's death, I was an atheist. I was raised in a family in which neither my mother nor my father believed in God. During their childhoods, Both my parents had horrible experiences with organized religion. So they decided not to force it upon their kids. It wasn't that they were against God. No, Not at all. In fact, They both consider themselves to be spiritual. But they did not share more than that with me or my sisters. They wanted us to figure it out for ourselves, Like they both had done. They told us that it was up to each of us to find our own way in terms of what we believed about God. And they were very open and supportive of whatever we explored. Yet at the same time, They did not provide any direction, Guidelines, Or guardrails. So I didn't know quite what to believe. I pretty much idolized my parents and therefore I just followed their lead. I didn't actively pursue or investigate anything about God. Consequently, The only experience I'd had with God in the first 30 years of my life were a handful of times when I'd been to church for a wedding or a funeral. Besides that, I used to tag along to the local Catholic church with one of my neighborhood friends, Colleen. When I was a little girl. But that wasn't because I was curious about God. This is so bad. I have to admit this. But listen where I would go. It was only because her family went to the local penny candy store. After the church service, And I would get to pick out a whole bag full of sweet treats. My mom was very strict and didn't allow me to have candy very often, So I endured Sundays at church with the McDonald family to get my sugar fix. But I really didn't understand what church was all about. And from my experience on the Sundays at the Catholic Church with the McDonald family, The minister was angry and scary. And he would say threatening things and talk about going to hell. And if the McDonald's family was any indication. Of the Catholic religion in action, That was an even scarier proposition and something that is outside of the scope of this story. So basically what I would do is I would. I think I told two times ago the story right where I would. . . Sneak into my sister's room and I would just steal little things. That they wouldn't notice that would be gone. Like if they had doll clothes, I would just take a few. And then the other sister had some stickers. Lisa Frank was the brand name of the stickers that were really popular, Really expensive, So I'd take a few stickers. I'd just take a few things, Steal from both of them. And then I'd put a price on everything and lay them out on the floor in my room. And I'd say, Oh, Joy and Julie, I'm having a sale. Come and buy my things. Here's some things for sale. And they'd buy each other's things. And then later in the day, I'd hear them fighting. You stole my thing! No, I bought it at Jesse's sale! " And I'm like, I don't know, You know? And so that's how I'd get the money to go to the candy store. Because my mom was so strict. She would say, On your birthday, You can have candy. That was it. Maybe Christmas or something, But the rest of the days, There's like no sugar, You know? And so I really love sugar a lot. So that was my trick. Steal. Have my sisters buy each other's things, Get the money, Go to the candy store. And then I don't know what they were talking about at that church, But basically I was not interested at all in God. And also my parents gave no guidelines. It was literally only after my dad died, When we were cleaning out all of his things, I found his copy of the Bhagavad Gita. And I was like, Oh my God, He read the Bhagavad Gita. And then I found his thesis and he got his PhD from MIT and in his thesis he was analyzing the Bhagavad Gita. He was putting shlokas from the Bhagavad Gita in his thesis. I couldn't believe it. He never mentioned any of that to me and he was analyzing that and he was talking about systems thinking, You know, About what Krishna was saying. You know, And I'm like, Oh my God. So that was so cool, You know, But I never had any of those conversations with him. Now that I think back, I think he understood some of these bhakti principles and he was saying them to me without saying bhakti yoga, Without saying Krishna, But he was actually explaining how the mind works. So that was really interesting. But he didn't ever bring that into my life as a kid, Specifically. So I didn't have any way to go. And I thought my parents were so cool. I just wanted to be like them. And church wasn't a part of our life and neither was God. So I was on a real search after he died. Okay, So, Okay, I went on a little tangent about the candy. Let me come back. Let me reel myself back in. Okay, So, Oh yeah, The pastor or whatever, The minister, He'd say these threatening things, Right? And, Um. . . The McDonald family also, I mean I won't say that much, But basically they were Catholic, You know, So they did all the right things on paper. The whole five kids would load into the big suburban car, They'd all go to church every single Sunday, But the father was extremely physically abusive to the kids, You know, And even the older brother. And my friend Colleen, She was one of the younger, She's the fourth one, But her big brother was beating her with a belt, And one time I was in the other room hearing it and I'm like, Oh my God. You know what I mean? So I didn't have a good impression of religion close up either, With this family who was so holier-than-thou and religious, But then I saw that and I'm like, Well, I don't get this, You know? It just didn't add up to me. So I didn't have any good samskaras, I think, In this lifetime. For religion or for being curious about that. So. . . So my parents also never asked how the church was. They never asked anything. So they didn't ask what I was learning there or what I thought about it. So I was left to my own devices to just digest it myself with my little kid brain. The way I processed it, Therefore, Was that church fit into the category of bad experiences. And I didn't like it. And that was about it. My experiences matched perfectly with what my parents had said their experiences had been with religious people and institutions. My dad went to a Catholic church and the nun beat him. He was really young, I think he was seven, And he was a total jokester. I think he was bored because he was super smart. So he was always making sound effects, Making noises, Jumping around. He probably had ADHD. And the nun beat him very badly. And so he came home that day and he told his father and they said, You're not going back there. So that made him not believe in God. And my mom had some very strict, Strict experience too, Where she was. . . It wasn't nice for either of them, So they just said forget it. So. . . Um. . . My experiences match perfectly with what my parents had said their experiences had been with religious people and institutions. With all that negative background and shedding my heart to God and the afterlife, You can imagine my surprise when I was holding my father's hand as he died and I saw a blue light My sister and cousin were doing CPR, Desperately pumping my dad's chest hard and forcefully breathing air into his lungs, Trying to revive him. Other family members were there, Standing around, Gasping, Crying, And yelling in panic. In the midst of this scene, I let go of my father's hand and I calmly walked away to the other room. Although everyone else was still trying to fight for his life, I knew the moment he left his body because I felt his energy leave it. And in that moment, I saw like a bluish white light. And felt an incredible sense of confident knowing and deep peace wash over me. I knew my father was gone. I knew he had left his body. I knew with certainty that he was not coming back. Yet no doctor had examined him, Nor confirmed his death. So then how could I know this with such bold confidence when the rest of my family members were still fighting for his life? I didn't dare reveal my truth to my family because I thought they would think I had surely gone mad. Quite frankly, I didn't know what to make of my experience either, Because up until that moment, I didn't believe there was anything after death. My belief was simple and straightforward. I am what I see. I'm just a body, And when we die, That's it. Lights out. Game over. Finito. My dad lived by the motto that you only live once. And he had ingrained that into my head. He even had a framed picture of a cartoon sketch in our living room of him and my mom on his motorcycle with the motto on there, You Only Rock Once. They were 1960s hippies. So that was drawn when they were young and in love and had met and they had this, You only rock once. He lived his life like it was the only life he would ever live. He preached about living each day like it was our last. I even remember one letter he wrote to me encouraging me to, Quote, Squeeze all the juice out of ze grape, As he put it. He urged me to realize that this was the only life I will ever live. So I should try to get all the juice I can get out of it every day, Every last drop. Don't miss any opportunity to learn and to grow. So I tried my best to think like that and to live like that. But now I was faced with a different paradigm. If we only live once, Then what was that blue light leaving his body? I wondered, Was that his soul? Where was he going? Where was it going? Is he going to live in some other place? As I sat in the living room and calmly called long-distance family members to inform them of my father's sudden passing. My sisters and cousins and mother were in anguish in the other room next door. Still trying to bring my father back to life. It was not until two hours later at the hospital that they gave up trying. My many years past as I wondered what had actually happened when my father died. Quite often my mind would ruminate on questions such as, What was that blue light I had seen? And what was that immense feeling of peace that I experienced when he left his body? Where did he go when he left his body? Where is he now? I sought out Buddhism for the answers. However, Despite the welcoming people and the peaceful meditation practices that I learned. I couldn't find answers to my questions about his death that actually resonated with me. When I graduated from the Kripalu School of Ayurveda in 2006. On my quest to find the truth. I resolved to go to India. I still didn't understand exactly what had happened to my father's soul when he left his body. But at least I could understand that he had a soul and that it had left his body when he died. I still didn't know what the blue light was or where her soul had gone. But I knew India was a spiritual place and I had read a book that Varanasi was a holy place. Where people spread the ashes of the dead. Something about that intrigued me. And I made a commitment to go. I didn't know when. I didn't know how, But at least I know where. Have you guys been, Anyone been there? The very nasty Benares? Yeah, You do your studies in there. That's a special place. That was my first place I ever went to in India. It was very special. India was the place that had captured my heart, Although I couldn't explain exactly why. All I knew at the time was that I had to figure out how to get there. And I did just that. Fast forward to August 3rd, 2007. Five years to the exact date after my father's passing. I sat in a boat on the Ganga River in Varanasi. Drenched in sweat, August, August of Varanasi, Oh my God. I was just dripping in sweat and I had a special suit made. You can see it if you see that picture of me in the book. It's so thick. It was definitely not cotton. It was some thick polyester thing that I was just dying. I felt so uncomfortable in that thing, You know? Okay. Five years after, Okay. I sat in a boat on the Ganga River in Varanasi, Drenched in sweat. I had already soaked my ornate, Newly custom-made blue and yellow silk kurta suit. In this ceremony to release my father's ashes, I chanted each mantra aloud as the Brahman priest instructed. The old, Wide wooden boat rocked gently as I looked down at the hard, Dirty wooden floor. Wondering how many people had sat in this spot and released their family members' ashes before me. If the floor of this boat could talk, I'm sure it would have some fascinating stories to tell. As the boat hit a wave, A sprinkle of water landed on my hot cheeks. Calling my attention to this sacred river that beckoned to me, Ready to receive my father's ashes. After one hour of chanting mantras and offering incense, Sweets, A ghee lamp, A banana, Rose water, And fragrant jasmine flowers to the holy river, It was finally time to say goodbye to my father. Yes, We had already had a standard funeral five years back when he died. But for some reason, This ceremony on a river in a country I'd never been to before felt more significant to me. Chanting the mantras over the container of my father's ashes sent a surge of ecstasy through my body. Something I had not experienced before. It felt as if the mantras were alive, Energizing me and coursing through my veins. The final instruction of the Brahmin priest was to throw my father's ashes over my shoulder and don't look back. Goodbye my sweet father. Thank you for being such a strong and positive force in my life. I thought as I watched Mother Ganga embrace my father, His dry ashes floating away. Becoming a part of her water body now. I finally let him go. Although I felt happy about the ceremony, Knowing I was lucky to be able to deliver my father's ashes to the sacred river. I was still not at peace with everything. I still didn't understand exactly where his soul had gone. And what was that blue light. It took another eight years. I didn't meet Babaji till eight years after this. Eight years until I had the good fortune to meet Babaji. Okay, So it took another eight years until I had the good fortune to meet Babaji, Who finally explained the answers to those questions. The day I took Deeksha, A formal initiation as his student, I had the opportunity to meet with Babaji and ask him my long-standing questions about my father's death. So my dad died in 2002, And I took Deeksha in 2015. So those questions are always like in the back of my mind, You know, Those quiet moments I was always. . . Wondering about that. I told Babaji the story of my father's death. And my experience seeing him leave his body. Tears rushed down my face as I remembered the shock of it all. I felt overwhelmed with grief. I felt embarrassed crying in front of this wise guru whom I'd never met before. I wanted to crawl underneath a blanket and cry myself to sleep like I'd done so many times in the past when I was grieving over my father. But some part of me also realized this supreme opportunity to get my personal questions answered by this great master. So through my tears, Aching heart, And nervous stomach, I persevered with my story. The question that had been lingering in my mind for the last 13 years came flowing out of my mouth before I even realized I had asked it. I muttered with a shaky voice, What happened to my father's soul after he died, Babaji? So that's me. Actually, It's almost 10 years ago. January. 2015 when I took Diksha. Babaji's calm disposition and gentle eyes soothed my grieving heart as he explained, Is not really dead. It is only the body that dies and takes birth. The soul never dies. It is immortal. I didn't try it. So Babaji said, The soul never dies, It is immortal. The body is just a vehicle for the soul. I took a loud visible exhale and sighed a big sense of relief hearing Babaji's nurturing words. The wise master continued, So you have to decide if you are grieving for the soul of your father or for the body. If you grieve for the body, It's futile because the body is temporary. And has to die one day anyway. Anyone who is born has to die. It is just a matter of time. Your father died when he was 55. He could have lived another 25 years and then died. Either way, He had to die at some point. Of course I understand that this was unexpected and sudden. But anyone's death is uncertain. Anyone can die at any time, Including me and you. It is just that we forget this fact. And then when the reality hits, We grieve. In fact, The truth is that we're always dying at every moment. If you are 42 now, It means you've died 42 years of your life. Although, You don't think that way. Even if your own body had died so many times. The body that you had when you were a child is dead and gone. The body you had when you were a teenager is also dead and gone. Scientifically speaking, Every cell in our body changes in a span of seven years. That means the body I had seven years ago is with me no more. It is just because the change is very slow and incremental that we don't feel it. So we should not grieve for the body. So. . . So I was saying that I miss more than my father's body, Right? I miss talking to him, I miss laughing with him. I guess what I mean is that I miss his personality. I miss our relationship. He was the most important man in my life and he was my best friend. We discussed everything about life together. When he died, I felt like part of me died with him. I will never get to talk to my dad again, And that makes me feel so sad. Since his death, There have been so many significant moments of my life that I wanted to tell my dad about, But I couldn't. I can't ever have that relationship again. I think that is what I'm grieving over. I wipe the stinging tears from my eyes. Babaji responded, All relationships are temporary. We meet people in this life based on our past karma. When karma is over, Our relationship comes to an end. He continued serving up his truth serum. Death certainly brings an end to relations, But even without death, We break up. The very people whom we once loved and thought we could not live without, We break up with them too. Indeed, We say, I cannot live with you. So I'm sure you had your boyfriends. Whom you loved and now you don't care for them anymore. Otherwise, You'd be just sitting around and grieving. You have had parents, Children, And friends in your past lives. But now you don't even remember them. Maybe somebody who was your son in your past life is still alive. And if he comes and meets you, He would be an old man now. And you wouldn't even recognize him. Let alone have any loving sentiments toward him. So this is the story of all relations here. Babaji spoke so matter-of-factly. Truly speaking, You are not grieving for your father. You are grieving for your own self. So let's take a pause there. I've read a lot and we haven't had a chance to talk about anything. Does anybody want to share with something? That came up for you, Insights or questions. Anything in the story so far? You know the first time I speak with Babajit front to front? Hold on, He's just going to give you the mic so the people online can hear too. I come here because my dad left his body three days before. So I come with the ashes of my father. And the first question I ask to Babaji, What I do with the ashes? He told me go to the Yamuna. That's so cool. And after you come back here and we make something with porcelain. That's so nice. I was asking myself, What is the connection with your dad and Babaji? Because I don't know if we have a relation with father and Babaji, Some kind of. Something connected to your dad. Guru and your father. So when you speak, There is a connection with your father. Your father was your first guru, You know? Yeah. And he brought you to Babaji. Yeah. When he died. Yeah. That's the biggest gift he gave me. This is a gift. Because I might not have been interested in a guru, Actually. Because he was like my guru. You know, I was always, Whatever he was saying, I would just go with that. I mean, If he lived to be 90 or whatever, I'd still be asking everything to him. But I think losing him made me search for that. Male figure who could you know, Guide me and tell me the truth and all that. Yeah. Yeah. Very good. Thank you. True. Yeah, Very important. Security. Yeah. Okay Kamala, You want to add to that? Thank you. I was touched by all the feeling and then. . . The desire, The longing for the guidance and the friendship and the love and the sharing, And then this big void that has been left behind in you, And then I connected with that and I felt like emotional. But then, In the end, But then in the end Then in the end, When the bomb came, You know? You are grieving not for him, You are grieving for yourself. Means that all the experience that we are going through. . . Basically, There are Like, From our perspective, They are also selfish in one sense, You know, Because you want him to feel your emptiness and your desire to know more and all these demanding things. So that's. It's very nice to see how Guru. . . He's coming, No? And he doesn't mind to fill up that time. Desire and what to say, Thirst. To know and to solve. So I find this very, Very inspiring. Thank you. Ending notes. Thank you for sharing. Thinking about death, I think it's really hard when you learn about the Vedic culture, Is to have the time of grief, Because we learn about detachment, Like Babaji said at the end, Everything is kind of selfish, But it's kind of nice that you had the time to maybe grieve a little, Because I don't know, How can we really be detached when the moment of of the person we love leaves his body, How can we really detach of this moment? It must be hard to manage this idea of, As Vaishnavas, We're supposed to be detached, But we have to have this moment of. . . Maybe humanness of feeling a little bit, But I think it's hard to. . . I didn't have a lot of grief of death in my life, So when I read verses of Bhagavad Gita, I think about it, I'm like, Okay, We're supposed to be detached, We're not this body, Everything is temporary, But still, The moments we lived together are still important, Are they not? I don't know. So sometimes, Like you said, It's a bomb, The last part of the Vajra is like, Oh, Never mind. It was really, Really touching. Thank you. Thank you. It's tricky, Right? It's true. It's like we know all this philosophy, We know how we should be, But we also have human relations and you know it's hard to imagine like if somebody dies that you're close with and that you love and you're like, Well. . . They're just the body and we're not the body. They're in a better place, You know. When you're grieving, First of all, That's really hard if someone tells you they're in a better place. It's so like invalidating, Right? And then also for us to, I think what often happens is once you learn the philosophy, Then you just repress the grief. You know, You're like, I shouldn't, So I'm not gonna show it, You know. But then it comes out sideways in other ways. It can make you have bodily ailments or it can come out in weird ways that like, Then all of a sudden like, You know, A bird dies and you're like grieving. For a week and you're like. . . Why are you moving that much over a bird that hit the window and died? I mean, That's kind of sad, But the grief will have to come out some way. So it's not an easy thing at all, How to deal with it, Because you don't want to repress it, But you don't want to get completely stuck in it, But you also want to be human and be like, Okay, I love that person and that's really sad for me. Tricky. But I think if you get the, My idea now is like get the, Get it in your head when you're calm and you're not grieving, So then when it does happen, When you lose somebody you love, At least the buddhi has that information at some point to kind of Thank you for joining us. You know, Pacifying yourself, Then you can come into maybe not such high philosophy that we're not the body because that feels kind of cold, But some other way that you have to figure out personally what would be the best way you can digest it and integrate it into your life so the grief isn't going on and on and on. I think there is a natural period of crying. I can't imagine not crying at all or not being sad at all, But once you let yourself do that, The knowledge that you have can somehow come in after that in a way that would not keep you stuck in the grief for too long and ruminating like I was for however many years over the same thing, You know? I think that's one way to look at it. I can add something. Sometimes I think about maybe the emotion that we have when people leave our bodies, It's like regret. So the regret is what activates the grief more. And if we try to like have a really intense relationship with everyone, Like live in the present moment, Maybe the grief is less strong, I don't know. Could be. I was a grief counselor for a while, So I worked with a lot of dying people and a lot of grieving people. The grief is going to come, Because it's based on the attachment. And so the more intense the relationship is, You're really living in the moment, You're going to have probably more grief, Because you're going to have all the good memories of all the times together. So, To me what I've seen is that the only real true way that you can not experience grief is if you have. . . Completely surrendered to your guru and then you're completely just with him and you're not having all these other attachments, You know, And if you're surrendered to him and if you're one with his heart then you'll be happy when he goes because he's going somewhere else that's better for him, Then it's not about you. But that's a tall order to get to that place. Krishna. I had a friend. Some years ago. And she got cancer. It was suddenly terminal. Thank you for the good life. And what we were writing on WhatsApp. Oh yeah, You forgot, She was afraid to die. I already knew Krishna Consciousness and I tried to explain her that she shouldn't be scared because When she dies, She will be born again. But, She was angry. A little bit angry with me and she told me like how can you say that? In the moment when she died. In that she died. And she was scared and I couldn't do anything about it. And I have this experience, You know, This experience. But I have other relatives. Relatives that are spiritual brothers. That he also left the body by the cancer. And we knew that the moment will come and I didn't know how to say goodbye in the right way and always bugging me inside. Yeah, Saying goodbye to someone you love is very painful and oftentimes either we don't get the chance like for example my dad just dropped out of a heart attack right in front of me so couldn't say goodbye or you don't know how to say goodbye and you keep hoping you know either you're avoiding it because it's just too painful to say that final goodbye or it's like you You know, Like there never seems to be the right time or the right way, And so you just kind of are with them up until the last moment, Because if you're with them and they have cancer, For example, You're kind of like in a heightened state of, It's like a crisis in a way, And you're helping them, And then it's like, Wait, They left, And I didn't get to say it. In grief therapy, One thing that's very helpful. That I would say that if you haven't tried already, You could try, Or if anybody is struggling with not being able to say the goodbye in the way you needed to say it, Whether it's because somebody died or because They're just not in your life anymore, But they're alive still. You know, There's plenty of people I work with who are married couples and they really need to write a goodbye letter to their partner even though they're still married. To how their partner used to be, Right? Or maybe you have a son or daughter who's kind of grown up and now they're living in Vrindavan and you can write a goodbye letter to them. It doesn't have to be just somebody who's died. But writing a goodbye letter is a very, Very powerful way to have closure. You can take a picture of that person that you need to say goodbye to and you can put it right in front of you and you can make a date with yourself, Okay, Friday 7 p. M. And you put the picture and you light a candle, And you read the letter that you've written. You're reading it out loud, You know, To that, And you're connecting with that person's energy, You know, And you may end up sobbing. You may also have unfinished business. You may have some anger in the letter. You may have some things you want to forgive them for in the letter, So the letter would have four parts to it, You know, Like, Thank you so much for all the stuff you never got to thank them for, You know, And then please forgive me for. The things that you. . . Feel bad about, Regret in the relationship, Please forgive me. For these things, You know? And then I love you. And then the final part is goodbye. And then when you read that, After you read it to the picture of them and you're connecting with them. And then you can choose what you want to do with that letter. Some people like to burn it. Some people like to tie it to a balloon and let it go into the air. But do something with it, Don't just leave that lingering. Do something with it where you're releasing it, You know? So that could be one way, Because with grief, Babaji always says, Time does not heal all wounds. Conceals them. So it doesn't matter if the person died one year ago, One month ago, One week ago, Or 20 years ago. It doesn't matter. Whatever you're holding on to, You're holding on to. And until you actively work with it, It's a samskara, Your grief, And it's a whole category. There's probably many things you're grieving over, And maybe you've never lost somebody you're close to. That's a very narrow version of grief, That somebody died. You could be grieving your youth. You could be grieving your location of where you used to live or something that you used to love that you don't do anymore. Or that you don't person or you know, There's many, Many things you can be grieving. So whatever that is that is unfinished for you, It would be good to write a goodbye to that. It's harder than you think, Actually. It's more relieving when you've done it, But it's a tricky one to do. And oftentimes when I give it for a homework assignment, My client will come back and go, I didn't do it. And I said, Don't worry. It's like asking you to pull your own tooth out. It's very painful. Why would you want to do it? But if you want to try to get a relief. It's a really nice way to do it because oftentimes if the person's. . . If we're talking about somebody who's died, Somebody who's passed on, They're not here. So you're like, Well, How can I say goodbye? I never got to say my things. So this is a nice way to get closure without relying on them. Anything else? Anybody online? You want to start? Hare Krishna Bye. Hare Krishna. I'm thinking about this breathing and. . . My experience, Because of course I will not question Babaj's commentary that there is some form of selfishness in reading, But what I feel, It's not that simple. At least from my perspective, I can say that With love in relationships comes mercy. And when mercy is alive, It gives. . . Then we receive guidance. And at least I can say for myself, I'm not self-realized. I'm not on a spiritual platform. I still feel confusion. I still feel trapped quite often by my ideas. And then I really feel that I need a mercy. I need a mercy in the form of guidance, Living guidance. And I remember when I started to read Bhagavad Gita and I was struggling with relationships between devotees and it was so painful to realize that I cannot go to Srila Prabhupada and ask directly. It was very painful. And then somebody was suggesting me that I should listen some lectures of Bhakti Rakshak Mahanath online. It was mind-blowing. And then suddenly I discover, Oh! My Tirakshaka is also in the body. And I remember this pain, Like, Wow, I'm deprived of this living mercy. Because I still feel confused. And I also see that this is why we seek mercy of living Guru, Because at least I can say from my perspective, I need mercy, I need guidance, I need help, I feel like a baby. And also, This is what I understand, That's the magic of relationship, That this process of mighty, That we're growing up to relationship. Even Krishna had guidance by sometimes even by sticking water in your shoulder. I also feel that sometimes. . . I need some good words, Sometimes I need some tough critique, That I'm just going in the wrong direction. And I can see that the beginning in our family, That we are learning, And especially when you say, Mataji, That your father was giving you so much wisdom, I can imagine that. I don't have this experience in my family, But I can imagine that if you have somebody who shares wisdom out of love, That it's really painful to lose this kind of guidance. I can empathize with this very much. Hare Krishna. Shelter from a guru or we have shelter from a guru, You know? A lot of us have Babaji as our guru, So it's hard to imagine that we wouldn't be sad if you lose your guru, And that person who's giving you guidance in such a loving way, In such a kind and caring and selfless way. It's hard to imagine how you wouldn't feel sad about that. So that's why I'm saying it's tricky. Unless you're a perfected being and you don't need guidance anymore, You're probably going to be missing that and feel sad about that. So it's a good point because what you're saying is you feel like a baby and you're still learning and you need that guide and you miss having that guidance. So I think a lot of us are in that boat where we're still looking for that guidance, We're relying on that guidance, We need that guidance. You know, And so that would be very hard and we wouldn't probably be like, Great, He's in a better place or something, Right? So I think we've got a few more minutes. Does anybody else want to say anything or do you want me to read why Babaji said that I'm selfish? You wanna hear why he said I'm selfish? Okay, I'll read a little bit more. Um. . . Okay, So you're grieving for your own self. Babaji said your father will have already taken birth somewhere, And he's probably a happy young adolescent now, Oblivious of all of his daughters that he left behind in his past life. And he's not grieving for you. He doesn't even remember you. He is engrossed in his next life. So your grief is not for him, But it's just for yourself. Just like when there is a breakup, The lovers may grieve. But then they find another partner, And they don't grieve anymore. So if they were grieving for their ex-lover, They should still be grieving because they still don't have him or her, Right? But that's not how it typically goes. They move on and find another relationship and the grief subsides, Right? So that means the grief is actually about your own emptiness in your heart. If that emptiness gets filled by someone else? Then there's no grief. However, If you're missing your father, It is possible to still feel his presence through meditation. And to even contact his soul. But I really don't advise it. With Babaji's deep and beautiful answer. A calm enveloped my heart like the cool morning fog blanketing a mountain lake. I still had some more questions. After all, I had been thinking about my father's death for the last 13 years. But I didn't feel agitated about asking them. I felt relaxed in the comfort of this great saint. Who had so compassionately provided for me. That I felt relaxed in the comfort that this great saint had so compassionately provided for me. In this peaceful and curious mood, I continued with my next question. Babaji, If his soul is eternal, Then where did it go when he died? I felt and saw what I think might have been his soul leave his body. Where is he now? Babaji replied, Your father must have taken another birth. We take birth according to our karma. And as I said, If you truly miss him, Then you can meet him again, Even in this life. Since you feel so close to him. That is so interesting, Babaji. Can I ask you one more question about what happened the day he died? Yes, Of course. Babaji warmly welcomed me to continue, Giving me the impression that I didn't need to rush and that he had all the time in the world. What was that blue light I saw when my father left his body? When people die, They are covered in a blue light. That is a sign of cellular death. It is not visible to most people. You must have some special gift to be able to see this, " Babaji shared. I asked. Maybe it was a gift from God to trigger some curiosity in me about life after death. Because this curiosity is what drove me to eventually find my way. To you for the answer. Welcome home, Babaji said. And smiled a pleasant smile that made me feel so relaxed and comfortable. As I lay in bed that night in Vrindavan, India. A small dusty town far away from the green hills of New Hampshire. I felt surprisingly at home. I was captivated by Babaji's words. Those questions that had been gnawing away at my heart finally had an answer. I felt such a great sense of relief knowing that I would meet my father again. I slept deeply that night, More deeply than I think I'd slept in a very, Very long time. Feeling recharged the next morning, I woke with a fresh set of questions for Babaji about karma, Relationships, Love, And the soul. He graciously invited me again to ask everything without holding back. And so I did. So the reflections were that I waited for 13 years to finally get my questions answered in a satisfying way that felt complete to me. I wonder how different my life would have been if I had given up. On certain other questions, If I hadn't given up on certain other questions that I had. Even with Babaji, I often found myself holding back on questions. Because I felt fear of his disgust at my sheer and utter ignorance. So basically my reflections were written way after, Like when I wrote the story, You know, And this is like, Whatever, 10 years later that I was writing the reflections. In other words, After I already knew him. That story was written the first day I met him, And this is 10 years of knowing him. Then I wrote this. Even with Babaji, I often found myself holding back on questions because I felt fear of his disgust at my sheer and utter ignorance. But what if I had let that go and asked him anyway? What did I really value most, The truth or not feeling stupid? From my logical mind, I would say I value the truth above all else. But from my emotional mind. I would love to have to honestly say, I would have to honestly say, I value not feeling stupid in front of Babaji. Maybe if I accepted the fact that it's okay to not know, And even to look ignorant in front of Babaji, If that was what was required for me to understand the truth. If only I could have adopted this attitude in my life and in my relationship with Babaji, Perhaps I could have learned more and grown more as a result. My lesson learned was don't be afraid to ask questions. Risk looking like a fool in order to gain an understanding of the truth. Otherwise you'll remain a fool. Okay. Thank you guys for being here. Haribo.