(not necessarily in that order)
Krishna (Kristy) has been a constant presence in my life since I arrived at Ananda Palo Alto in 1998. That’s basically a quarter century.
One of the most willing, serviceful, joyful people I ever met, Krishna left her body today after a short but intense illness.
It happened so fast I can hardly believe she’s gone.
Lots of memories are surfacing but I’m not ready to try and put them into words.
Go with love, dear friend. 💖
The idea for a chant vigil first came up in 2021. Still in the midst of the pandemic, we at Ananda were seeking ways to maintain and strengthen our sense of unity.
There were also wildfires nearby and traumatic things happening throughout the world, prompting a renewed commitment to focus on prayer while staying centered in awareness of God as our true reality.
Now here we are in 2024 and it’s our 4th annual 24-hour AUM (Om) Guru Chant Vigil!
It thrills me to know we’re spreading uplifted vibrations of light, love, and joy throughout the world (Lord knows this world needs it!). 🙏
San Francisco has been on my mind so much these days that I figured I might as well wrap up the week by reflecting on one more thing I loved about living there.
Fog.
Yep. People complain and complain about the fog, but I loved it.
Well, I loved it 90% of the time. At least once every summer we would get a solid three weeks of fog and that really was a bit much.
But the rest of the time you simply never knew, from moment to moment, what you were going to get — you could look out the window at the most gorgeous day, decide to finish your half-hour project and then go enjoy the sunshine, only to look up after twenty minutes and it’s nothing but fog everywhere.
Of course the reverse was also true. You would bundle up and resign yourself to a chilly excursion in the park, only to find the sun burning through the fog twenty minutes later.
And the cool temperatures of foggy days were the best for long walks all over the City.
But some of my favorite fog experiences came when I would spend time in the hot summer temperatures of the South Bay (Milpitas, San Jose, Los Altos, etc.), then drive up Hwy 280 to return to the City.
At a certain point the air itself would dramatically change, getting cooler and smelling of moisture. Then you would look left (or west) and see the fog literally pouring over the coastal mountains. Absolute magic that I never tired of seeing.
And now, all this thinking about fog made me so homesick for the entire San Francisco experience that I had to go find a video of foghorns.
Enjoy!
Wow. This photo really strikes a chord in me.
San Francisco was one of my first loves. I remember a field trip to the City in third grade — I was sooooo excited! We were going to see boats, and in preparation we made drawings of boats on blue construction paper using red, white, and black chalk.
It was sooooo cool.
Although born in San Francisco, I grew up in the South Bay — an hour away. But once I graduated from high school I gradually moved north until I finally became a resident while attending San Francisco State University.
I had arrived.
I lived in San Francisco — Parkmerced; the Richmond; Inner Sunset; outer Sunset; and back to Parkmerced — for over twenty years and loved it.
I spent hours and hours at the ocean and circling Lake Merced. I walked all over — literally. I learned to drop everything when the weather was perfect (because it wouldn’t necessarily stay that way for long; great training for living in the moment).
I read Herb Caen’s column every day. I learned to drink strong coffee and ate lots of Chinese food. I thrilled to the sound of the fog horns from my home at 30th and Geary. I loved the fog, period. I worked at the Cliff House and the Sutro Bath ruins were my home away from home.
And Golden Gate Park was like my own personal backyard. God, I loved it so much, spending hours and hours on the trails; walking from the panhandle to the ocean; learning all the nooks and crannies in between — the lakes, the creeks, the meadows, the touristy places and the private spots.
Amazing how all these memories came flooding back as I looked at this photo.
My karma with San Francisco finally came to an end and it was time to be elsewhere. I haven’t lived there since 1999 and don’t even visit very often.
But the love still remains. It will always be my city and my park.
I love you, Dad!
Thank you for always believing in me.
💖✨💖✨💖✨💖✨💖✨💖✨💖✨💖✨💖
Yesterday was about connecting.
We had lunch with all the members of Ramesha’s family who currently live in Switzerland (father, brother, sister and brother-in-law, niece and boyfriend) at a pizzeria in Lugano Centro.
We very much enjoyed our first “official” pizza of this year’s trip…and boy was it good!
Then in the evening we had dinner with the Lo Menzo family — Dudo, Karin, Samuele, and Lia. They’re some of my favorite people on the planet; unfortunately, we laugh so much when we’re together that I almost always forget to take any pictures. 😂
We don’t really go all in on the Valentine’s Day hoopla. When possible we make sure to eat dinner together, ending with some sort of heart-shaped dessert (usually cookies), and that’s about it.
Mainly it’s a day when I find myself thinking a lot about love; most especially how fortunate I am to love, and be loved by, so many wonderful people.
My husband; my family; his family; friends from school (junior high through conservatory); friends who were professional colleagues; spiritual family from around the world; and on and on it goes.
So, what Valentine’s Day means to me is simply LOVE.
Blessings galore for a new year filled to overflowing with love, light, laughter, abundance, health, friendship, and JOY!
My well of creativity is pretty much depleted after all the holiday events, but I hope you are blessed with the light and love that are the essence of Christmas.
“Everyone discusses my art and pretends to understand, as if it were necessary to understand, when it is simply necessary to love.” — Claude Monet
This quote reminds of Nayaswami Parvati’s beautiful talk at Sunday service this morning.
She was sharing about Brother Lawrence, telling us that his way of practicing the presence of God was absolutely just love. He simply loved God!
He became a lay member in a monastery, but when he tried to tune into the dogma of the church (being a sinner; heaven and hell; etc.) it made him feel bad. So he just continued loving God instead!
He wasn’t educated and his service was very humble, but he was filled with deep wisdom and his spiritual life was dynamic.
Brother Lawrence died in 1691 but his insights and teachings continue to inspire us more than 300 years later.
Thinking of his life, I don’t think he would mind if I adapt the above quote by Claude Monet in his honor:
“Everyone discusses God and pretends to understand, as if it were necessary to understand, when it is simply necessary to love.”