I always lived on the ocean side of San Francisco, in the Richmond, the Sunset, and Parkmerced. All had their beautiful aspects, but Parkmerced was my favorite location by far.
I felt like it was a close as one could get to living in a major city without feeling like you lived in the city.
By J. Ash Bowie
It was wonderful for walking and felt more like a community than the more typical city neighborhoods.
By J. Ash Bowie
I’m convinced that living in Parkmerced helped me maintain my equilibrium as a freelance musician coping with irregular hours while driving to gigs throughout the greater Bay Area.
I hear they’re making big changes there now. Oh well. I’m just grateful it was the calm and serene environment I needed all those years ago.
One of our friends is in the process of moving — with his wife and two small children — away from Ananda Village to live near our community outside Seattle.
As a parting gift, he shared the following story (originally written a couple of years ago). I’m sharing it here on my blog because he so beautifully and eloquently captured the essence of living at Ananda Village.
(I’ve replaced the names with initials, since I’m not sure if everyone is comfortable being named in a public blog. 😄)
Downtown Ananda Village is the social center of a small spiritual community, nestled in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains. Surrounded by hills, from any direction in the Village one literally drives down into it to arrive at one of the destinations there such as those perennial places of pilgrimage, the mailroom and the market.
In a storm last weekend, a tree fell — and as I drove into the downtown area, what do I see but a bright yellow tractor against the deep green and brown of the tallest tree I’ve ever seen downed. Someone I know must be driving the tractor, the Village being what it is, but I can’t quite see who they are. The sky is beautiful and sunny, and I almost stop to take a picture. On my left are the pickleball players — celebrating a new pastime at the Village, and I pass them on my way in.
In the mailroom, I hear someone talking outside with N–. Who is it? I don’t recognize their voice. They are going on, kind of ranting, and N– is listening and just giving them energy. It’s the postal worker, I see as I come out. She asks about his hours and he shares how he used to work for money and now it doesn’t seem so important. “Of course!” she says, affirming this expansive understanding he’s developing. It’s God’s kindness that she shares, by listening, and you can tell that she cares. And I think of it all as I walk away.
In the market, I see S–, joyfully willing to help me find the pumpkin pie spice on my shopping list. It’s the same with P– — and they are laughing; I can’t remember why, but the feeling of it stays with me. The person checking out the groceries, a math teacher, adds up the totals in his head. To have such joy in the midst of service; to be consciously engaged in what one does, even in the checkout line. I think of it all, and carry it with me.
Back in the car, I start driving home. I pass R– on my right, a person who, more than anyone I’ve ever known, is always ready to share a smile and a laugh. There’s a utility worker nearby and I watch as he changes direction, making a detour to talk to the visitor. The way he does this makes me wonder: perhaps the only reason is just to share joy, because this person is here and because joy wants to be shared. That idea fits with what I know of R–. And I think of this.
As I reach the tree, it all comes together. I see that P–, a long-time meditator, is the driver of the tractor, and one of the monks is helping him; I see a neighbor walking with her friend, just reaching them, where they talk together. I see that everyone is here for joy, everyone is sharing joy — and more than that, everyone is joy.
Joy is the air we breathe and the river in which we swim. It’s taking the perfect drive through downtown Ananda Village, with the walkers laughing with P– on the tractor, the pickleball players, the visitors — and I think of S– and P–, N– — and I think of my guru, choreographing this moment.
I have nothing I can add to it; I cannot capture it with a photo, or deepen it with a conversation, so I simply drive through it, this ideal everyday expression of a spiritual community — simple living and high thinking, for God in ourselves and in each other.
Sure, there’s still no power, which is inconvenient.
True, we ran into issues changing phone providers, which was annoying.
Yes, it been raining a lot, which can feel a little oppressive.
But on the other hand…
Our heat is propane, so we’re nice and warm. We’ve got a small generator, so fridge and wifi work. We live in spiritual community, surrounded by friends. We love our work, which we get to do together.
And even more basic…
We have a roof over our heads, our roads aren’t flooded, we have plenty to eat, and no fear for our personal safety.
I mean, really…! I am extremely blessed, and I know it.
Hats off to the team who were inspired by a vision, put out tons of energy, and manifested an absolutely wonderful Harvest Festival here at Ananda Village!
I couldn’t go during the day, but attended the Farm-to-Table dinner at The Expanding Light Retreat in the evening, which was a huge success as well.
Awesome photo by the incomparable Barbara Bingham!
Today was our Lahiri work day at Ananda Village. I arrived a little late and missed being part of this wonderful photo.
But no worries! I still got to spend the morning serving alongside my fellow residents (all dear friends), being a part of the joyous enthusiasm of the day.
My involvement with Ananda accelerated and deepened throughout 1999. I received Kriya initiation at Ananda Village in May; returned for the Kriya retreat in June; and moved into the Ananda Palo Alto community in August.
Early that fall I learned that there would be an Ananda choir performing Swami Kriyananda’s Oratorio in Italy in May 2000. Although I was not a singer (my only choir experience had been in Mrs. Hall’s fourth grade class!) and had never heard the Oratorio, I absolutely knew that I had to be part of that tour.
However, since there was already a flutist, I had to sing. And although I had more of a low voice, the alto spots were filled, so I was going to have to sing soprano.
And to top it all off, I was hearing about it rather late in the game, with a good portion of the $5000 cost already due as a deposit. I hadn’t even had a chance to meet the tour organizer, but I sent her a check for $125 with the assurance that more would follow (there’ll be further details about this when I write about the creation of my Illuminating Grace CD).
Indeed, the pace of life was speeding up as a result of my increasing commitment to Ananda. And it was at this point that I received two more opportunities to deepen my inner connection with Swami Kriyananda.
The good news is the overwhelming abundance of online resources that Ananda is making available to devotees and truth-seekers around the world. Spiritual talks, meditations, yoga, kirtan, sing-alongs…you name it, we’ve got it…from the USA, Europe, New Zealand, India, South America, and points in-between.
So what’s the bad news? The overwhelming abundance of online resources that Ananda is making available to devotees and truth-seekers around the world! 🙂 I want to watch, listen to, and experience all of it, but it’s just not possible.
Of course, this isn’t really “bad” news; rather, it’s a wonderful “problem” to have!
(Want to learn more? Visit ananda.org/community to see what Ananda has to offer everywhere in the world.)
It’s wonderful to see how the challenges and uncertainties of this time are starting to be balanced out by outpourings of courage, generosity, creativity, and compassion.
Museums are offering virtual tours; opera companies are offering free HD web streaming; Ivy League colleges are offering free online courses.
Ananda communities and teaching centers around the world are offering everything online: Sunday services; how to meditate; live sadhanas; energization; and more.
It’s like everyone is asking, “What can I give? What can I do?”
Well, Ramesha and I are no exception! But after asking ourselves those questions for a few days we were still unclear as to the best way to offer what we have to give.
Then I happened to receive an email announcement from the singing phenomenon known as Choir! Choir! Choir! — announcing their Choir!ntine: EPIC Social Distan-Sing-Along! — and realized this is what we could offer to our community as well…the opportunity to gather as a global family and sing together. To experience the reality that our bodies might be separated but we’re always united in spirit!
Soooo…the first session of our Joyous Global Sing-Along starts tomorrow night (Tuesdays are when our Ananda Village choir usually rehearses) at 7:00 pm Pacific time via Facebook Live on our Ananda Music Facebook page.
We’re really looking forward to doing our part to balance the challenges and uncertainties of this time. Come join us! 🙂
I was able to get yesterday’s post written before leaving work at the end of the day, but no such luck today. This makes the third full day of our power outage. It’s been quite the wake-up call, although it could certainly have been much, much worse!
Sometime in the first couple of years of my living in the Ananda Palo Alto community, a photographer friend convinced me to do a spontaneous photo shoot. Predictably, self-critic that I am, I didn’t like the photos very much…except this one.
Twenty years later and it’s still one of my favorites. And I find myself asking, why?
Maybe it’s because, by placing me in the midst of such a luxuriantly lush and flourishing Ananda community garden, my friend (probably unconsciously) made a statement about the correct placement of myself–and my musicianship–in the context of Ananda overall.
I remember looking at it back then and loving the imagery of being surrounded and seemingly almost swallowed up by Ananda. The photo reflected my sense of having come home; Ananda was my new context, within which everything in my life was rapidly realigning.
Fast forward another year or so, my life and musical career had been wholly absorbed by my spiritual path and I was on my way to live and tour as part of the singing group in Italy. Our goal? To “help get the music out”, a project that became my life dharma.
