Mother of the Unseen World

by Mark Matousek

  6. Meditation

  Mother Meera does not recommend meditation practice for everyone, especially not children under the age of twelve. When practicing meditation, she says, it is best to be simple and unambitious, since attachment to mastery and technique can increase spiritual pride rather than destroy it. In order to receive the Light, it is not necessary to meditate, though a silent mind is helpful. Sincere feeling is far more important than rigid practices.

  7. Sincerity

  Sincerity is a prerequisite to spiritual awakening. It is more beneficial to be sincerely doubtful than dishonestly faithful. It is better to be open, truthful, and simple about our own faults than to pretend to be better or more selfless than we are. Sincerity is connected to humility, of course. “The great man is always humble because he remembers his relationship to the Divine,” Mother Meera says. Only a fool imagines that pretense leads to a deeper connection to God. That goes for financial contributions as well. Once asked why she doesn’t accept money from people who come to see her, Mother answered, “When people give me money, they expect something. I don’t want that. They should come to me like a mother and they shouldn’t pay something because then they always expect, ‘When I pay a lot then I got a lot.’ Or, ‘I don’t have any money so maybe I only get a little bit.’ That’s not how things work.”

  8. Faith and Doubt

  A measure of doubt is useful in spiritual life because it helps to keep us honest. As Mother Meera puts it, “It is better when someone says ‘I love God,’ knowing all the hatred and doubt that is still within them. Then it means something. Then the love can grow.” Dwelling on doubt is not helpful, however, because what we focus on tends to grow. Faith is a quality we cultivate through intention and sincerity. Only honesty can lay the foundation for authentic awakening and make room for the Divine to help us. “Whenever the mind has doubts, I give Light to the mind to see things clearly,” she explains.

  9. Self-Realization

  There are many awakenings in spiritual life and no end to the process of self-realization. The good qualities of the mind can always be expanded further. It is within our power to become increasingly loving, balanced, and peaceful, and to continue to open throughout our lives. The soul, which Mother Meera describes as a more subtle body within the physical form, guides our development and is always with us, acting as a kind of protector to lead us toward our own realization. The soul has no wishes of its own; it is only a witness to accompany us on the path to our own true nature.

  10. Sin

  There is only one sin, according to Mother Meera, and that is “not to love enough.” Sin arises when we forget the Divine, whereas remembering God serves to remind us of the good in human beings. This requires a willingness to forgive. “If we do not forgive, we cannot be called human,” Mother says. Although there is evil in the world, she warns against being pulled into its orbit by fear. Even though evil forces are working against the Divine in the world, the Divine is in control. “Evil is dangerous,” Mother Meera says. “But also very stupid.”

  11. Emotions

  According to Mother Meera, emotions are generally superficial and block entry into the deeper levels of our being. This attitude is unfashionable in the therapeutic age but typical in the East. Emotions disturb our ability to be peaceful, she counsels, and ought not to be mindlessly indulged. In the case of a challenging emotion such as anger, Mother Meera recommends that we offer it to the Divine in order not to become absorbed by it. This helps us to feel compassion for those who have harmed us and to make progress in the path of love. When hurt arises, the skillful response is to “pray for those who hurt us and send them love.” This helps to alchemize our pain into joy.

  12. Intellect

  The mind is both a blessing and a curse on the path of self-realization. In Mother Meera’s words, “If the mind does not disturb or destroy others, then it can go on doing what it may.” As the saying goes, the mind is a good servant but a terrible master. The study of different paths can be useful because it gives us wider knowledge and respect for other traditions, as opposed to holding a limited, rigid view. “There is great joy for the mind in following the spirit,” Mother Meera teaches. But our terrible master will lead us astray if we let it blind us with shallow reasoning. As Aurobindo put it, “The habit of analytical thought is fatal to the intuitions of integral thinking. If you follow your mind, it will not recognize the Mother even when she is manifest before you.”

  13. Suffering

  The notion that suffering is necessary for enlightenment was created by human beings, not God, Mother Meera teaches. The Divine asks us to be happy, harmonious, and peaceful, she asserts. The majority of our sufferings are the result of ignorance and insincerity. Pain is different from suffering, of course. Pain belongs to the body, so it must be accepted. But we humans exacerbate our own pain by concentrating on it, she reminds us. Offering our pain to the Divine prevents it from turning into suffering. Happiness and spiritual growth are connected in the Mother’s way. “Being peaceful and being happy form the most important foundation of spiritual practice.”

  14. Relationships and Love

  Mother Meera defines love as “doing for people what they need without expecting anything in return.” Love is different from attachment, which focuses more on getting than on giving. This is especially true of romantic relationships, which, while beneficial as opportunities for opening the heart, do not necessarily move us closer to God. If two people in a relationship are really focused on the Divine and are right for each other, however, their spiritual process may be faster than a single person’s. But such relationships are not necessary for spiritual life.

  15. Family Life

  Family life, on the other hand, is an optimal place for spiritual practice, since it teaches one to be unselfish. “A calm and harmonious family is a great spiritual achievement,” Mother Meera teaches, since it enables us to know ourselves as part of the human family, and to view all people as related to ourselves. Mother Meera views the decline of family life in the West as a reflection of our greater ills. “If everyone in the family is happy, then the world will be happy and we will have less problems,” she maintains.

  16. Work

  Work is the cornerstone of the Mother’s way. “I do not accept that people do not work,” Mother Meera tells us. “Everyone must work. I am working. This is not a time for people to withdraw from the world. It is the time to work with the power and love of the Divine in the world.” Also, one type of work is no better than another. The important thing is that we work to serve others, not “mechanically, but with love.” She advises that we begin our work with a prayer and offer the fruits of our labor to God.

  17. Sex and Health

  Abstinence is not necessary in spiritual life. As Mother puts it, “Some paths say that cutting vegetables hurts them but we must eat in order to survive, so it’s a circle. If some people don’t eat meat, they suffer. So there is suffering in any case.” Though self-control is necessary, there’s no use in denying our natural desires. Regarding sex, the choice to be celibate should be “made in joy not from suffering.” According to Mother Meera, spiritual work is done fastest if a seeker can live without sex, but very few manage it and “for many it is dangerous to avoid sexuality before they’re ready.” Nor is sexuality spiritually important; according to Mother, “The pleasure generated by two persons has no spiritual meaning.” What is essential is not to renounce sex but to offer it to the Divine. This holds true for all forms of sexuality.

  18. Silence

  Mother Meera emphasizes that silence is the great awakener. By quieting the mind, we invite the Divine to take root within us. As she told me, “For the mind to flower, it has to go beyond what it knows,” and this is possible only when thinking subsides and allows a deeper knowing to occur. “There is only one real rhythm,” Mother Meera tells us. “In silence, you hear it. When you live to the rhythm of this silence, you become it, slowly. Everything you do, you do to it.” The
importance of silence goes against the common belief that words are necessary for spiritual awareness. “People want lectures. I give them silence,” she explains, adding, “I do not speak, but my force changes people completely.”

  19. Gurus and Teachers

  It is best to pray to God directly or through a divine incarnation, Mother Meera advises. It is important to be aware of the limitations of all human gurus, who can point the way but “cannot take you to God.” One’s relationship to a guru depends on how much the guru can help a particular disciple at a particular stage of development; when feelings of peace or bliss arise in his or her presence, this indicates that the guru is authentic. At this time in history, however, when travel is increasingly available—and information about different teachers, too—it is not necessary for the majority of people to pledge allegiance to a single guru. Mother Meera is not a guru.

  20. Science and Technology

  The increase of technological gadgets that threaten direct communication requires that we use mindfulness and discipline, to prevent the machines from taking over, she says. Advances in science and technology “should be directed from a higher consciousness to help the world save itself.” The temptation to put our belief in any power other than the Divine is dangerous, Mother teaches. In order for technology to help us, “Man must have a global idea of what he is inventing, and it must be constructive rather than destructive.” It is arrogant to imagine that scientific knowledge trumps spiritual awareness. Scientists are often the most humble among us, Mother Meera points out, since they’re used to what they cannot see and accustomed to encountering mystery.

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  When we practice these commonsense principles, aspiring to wisdom instead of perfection, we deepen our connection to the world around us, and to the far-reaching effects of the Mother’s way.

  6

  NO GURU, NO MASTER

  It was a relief to hear Mother Meera confirm that she is not a guru. Like many skeptical Westerners, I have doubts about the traditional guru-disciple relationship, with its calls for obedience, exclusivity, and unquestioning devotion. Had Mother Meera encouraged such fealty, or required any kind of compliance, I’d have run for the hills and never looked back. Fortunately, she asks nothing from devotees, rejecting all attempts to turn her into a surrogate parent or an object of worship. Unlike a conventional guru, Mother warns against a devotee’s becoming too attached to her physical presence or dependent on her for decision making. “There is no need to be near my physical body. I will help you wherever you are,” she assures us.

  Our long-distance relationship suited me fine. Returning to New York after that first trip to India—having met Mother Meera and begun a serious meditation practice—I found myself without a job, a place to live, or much hope of surviving more than a couple of years. My health had been in a steady decline, treatments for the disease were nowhere in sight, and my doctor’s only recommendation was to go out and live while there was still time.

  Rather than waiting to die in the city, I embarked on the life of a dharma bum and threw myself into spiritual seeking the way a drowning man clings to the edge of a life raft. If there was no cure for my physical body, at least I could try to heal my soul, to discover what, if anything, this life meant and why I was alive in the first place. I hit the road with no time to lose and a list of urgent spiritual questions. What did we mean by God, anyway? Did anything exist of a man beyond this booby-trapped bag of bones? What about enlightenment? Was such a thing possible in the time I had left? Could raising my consciousness help me to cope with these sickening, smothering feelings of dread? Driven by these riddles, I traveled from teacher to teacher, ashram to monastery, retreat center to mind-body workshop, grabbing for wisdom wherever I found it and major credit cards were accepted.

  Seeking became my reason for being. I kept a quote from T. S. Eliot in my wallet: “In a world of fugitives, the person taking the opposite direction will appear to run away.” I was lucky to spend time with extraordinary teachers from a variety of backgrounds: the Dalai Lama, Brother David Steindl-Rast, Matthieu Ricard, Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi, Byron Katie, Stephen Levine, Adyashanti. I had personal conversations with Eckhart Tolle, helped Sogyal Rinpoche on The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, and spent a year co-writing a book with Ram Dass. I meditated with John Daido Loori, received Ammachi’s otherworldly hug, and spoke to the Daskalos, Spyros Sathi, about out-of-body travel, or “exomatosis.” From these sages, I picked up invaluable clues about how to live wisely in a mortal body while knowing that you are a spirit as well.

  These were traumatic, eye-opening years and the most transformative of my life. I traveled to Germany as often as possible and stayed with Mother Meera for months on end, in a room on the second floor of her house. She always welcomed me graciously and allowed me to remain for as long as I liked. Adilakshmi would inquire into the state of my health and suggest that I ask Mother for help. I never felt moved to do this, however. I was there to be blessed, not saved; I was seeking acceptance, not divine intervention. Even with Mother so close by, I rarely went upstairs to speak to her. It was enough for me to see her during darshan, hear her shuffling overhead, or spy on her as she watered her flowers on the terrace. I’d walk in the woods, cook meals with Daniel or Herbert, and keep to myself. Each time I left, Adilakshmi wished me well at the door and would say that she hoped to see me again. I realized she meant this quite literally.

  Oddly enough, though, I didn’t get sicker. The years rolled by, incredibly, and my body stayed more or less the same. By 1992, I was still in commission and realized that it was time to go home. The seeker’s life had become an ongoing escape; I was running away from my life, not toward it. Returning to New York, I rented a studio apartment in the Village with help from friends and family. I did my best to normalize, to settle down and integrate. I embarked on a live-in relationship, joined a meditation group, and volunteered three times a week at a hospice, rubbing the feet of dying patients and listening to their stories. I wrestled with a memoir about mortality and awakening, and collaborated with Andrew on a book about the divine feminine (later published as Dialogues with a Modern Mystic). It had been our intention from the start to dedicate the book to Mother Meera, our inspiration for this project, and Andrew and I worked happily for nine months in my one-room apartment, discussing the end of the patriarchy and the spiritual health of a world out of balance.

  —

  The first sign that things weren’t right between Andrew and Mother came with a fax from Adilakshmi, insisting that Mother Meera’s name not appear in our book. This request was shocking to both of us but Andrew was truly beside himself. He’d spent years helping Mother in a variety of ways, and his memoir about their relationship, Hidden Journey, had introduced thousands of readers to her, many of whom later came for darshan. After Mr. Reddy died, Andrew had taken on the role of being Mother’s ambassador to the world, and done so with unflagging devotion. Now it appeared that Mother Meera, or someone around her, wanted to distance herself from our work for reasons that neither of us could imagine. Feeling betrayed and humiliated, Andrew returned home to Paris after we’d finished the manuscript, and our book went to press without Mother’s name in it. I fell out of touch with Andrew after that and I never quite understood what had happened.

  Then the situation got worse. Word arrived through mutual friends that Andrew had rejected Mother for reasons I found inexplicable. Apparently, he had accused her in print of being homophobic and a fake. All of a sudden, my old friend had reversed his belief in her avatarhood, reframing Mother as a spiritual adept who later became Mr. Reddy’s “invention” and now behaved with ulterior motives. I soon learned the reason for this change of heart. Following the book-related fax, Andrew had gone to Thalheim, apparently, to ask Mother why she withdrew, and to receive her blessing on his upcoming marriage to his male partner. Rumor had it that Mother refused him this blessing and, more incredibly still, requested that Andrew leave his beau, marry a woma
n, and write a book about how the Divine Mother’s love had transformed him into a straight family man, since being gay was “unnatural.”

  I was flabbergasted. I’d never felt a trace of homophobia from Mother or the people around her. The first morning we spent in her house, Andrew and I were served breakfast in our room. I’d brought many gay people to darshan over the years, and all of them were welcomed wholeheartedly. When a friend of mine sent Mother Meera a message, asking for help in finding a partner, Adilakshmi returned with encouraging news (“Mother says yes!”). He came to meet his life partner at darshan the following year, in fact. When this same friend asked Mother if she had any negative feelings about homosexuality, she answered, “How could I be against anyone for anything? You must go deep into your heart, see who you are, and act accordingly. Then what could there ever be to give up?” In truth, I’d always been deeply impressed by Mother Meera’s openness to alternate lifestyles; she was, after all, a celibate holy woman from a conservative Indian background. Yet here was Andrew claiming the opposite, laying his credibility on the line after years of being her greatest ally.

  As word of the controversy spread, people began to contact me, wanting to know if Andrew was right. A journalist called from a magazine, asking me if I believed him. I told her that I had no earthly idea what could have happened. Was it true that Mother Meera had turned against homosexuals? Might Andrew be making this whole thing up? Would this stain Mother Meera’s otherwise unsullied reputation? Torn between my own experience and loyalty to Andrew, I realized that there was nothing to do but find out for myself. I booked a flight to Germany for later that month.