Mama Amma

Yesterday a group of us went to see Amma, the hugging saint, in Manhattan. I'm so sad I didn't get to get pictures of the crazy awesome outfits Monique and I were wearing, but it was a little like the girls shown below, except turbaned and more colorful with no gigantic hoop nose rings and really not at all. I'm just going to post lots of pictures of Indian clothes since that was pretty much the defining part of the day for me.

Oh, and the hug from Amma was great, too. A warm trickle of giggly, expansive love from my head to my toes. She clutches you close and chortles deep incoherencies in your ear. I felt blissful and large and centered for the next half hour or so, and Monique and Brandon and I sat near the stage giddy and chanting and wrapped in a million scarves and accessories which people from Omega had given us to be blessed. We joked that Monique would soon be a moving mass of fabric, unable to even see beyond the scarves as Amma's attendants pushed her along the hugging line. The effect of the embrace would be lost, the blessing inable to permeate so many layers.

Anyway, Monique wandered off somewhere in bliss and Brando and I went to feast at the delicious Indian buffet downstairs, and it was all very well and good and we were deep in existential conversation when the attendants suddenly came around and ordered us all to leave. They were re-setting the room for the evening session, in which Amma would give her final round of hugs, but no one actually bothered to explain this to us; before we knew it we had been shepherded up the stairs and out onto the street, where a long line had already formed for re-admission to the hall. I still had a full plate of chutney. It was also about 100 degrees, and I was starting to get claustophobic and overwhelmed and panicked about how I was going to get back to Omega in time to pull off a drive to Boston the next day, so I malfunctioned on the corner while Brandon went to try to figure out what was going on. Then our friend Marcy appeared out of nowhere, and in her awesome blunt Marcy way told me to stop malfunctioning and make a plan of action, and between the three of us and a little help from the Universe in the form of my cousin who lives in Poughkeepsie, we soon had an escape route mapped out. While the rest of our group would be hugging and chanting until the wee hours of the morning, we'd be on the 6:00 train out of Grand Central.

Even as the plans were being made, Amma's herders were pulling us away from Marcy and prodding us up the crowded stairs into the hall, where things were getting progressively more chaotic.

"Om Nama Shivaya Get Out of the Way, please!" Someone with a food cart actually yelled.

"Scooch a little closer together, please. Love your neighbor more!" A seat attendant actually said.

And that's about when I decided I was done playing hippie for the day. We left our seats as quickly as we had occupied them and headed back down the stairs onto the street, getting no shortage of poorly camoflauged disdain from the herders.

"Shree Shree Jai Bhagwan, Fuck Off," I could just hear them thinking.

So now Brandon and I were on our own to navigate the New York subway system, which I quickly realized was going to be an equally absurd and formidable task, considering our state of dress and overall being. He was wearing purple pants. I had no bra on and was draped in shawls, dress, skirt, malas; someone faced with all of my contrasting patterns on the subway might well pass out. So we took a few minutes to compose ourselves, which was pretty futile, and then we wandered around the block in a daze, and up and down a few subway stairwells, and after angering various people with our indecision we settled on one subway stairwell to commit to, and once underground we proceeded to anger more people with our overall slowness and discombobulation. It was entirely baffling to me in my post Amma state to understand how people are able to sustain such a panicked, urgent pace throughout every moment and movement in life. One has no choice but to adapt to that if you live in New York City, but it seems to me like mass insanity. Not that Amma isn't a perfect example of mass insanity as well. Anything involving masses generally is. But I prefer my own individual blend.

What a synchronicity! I am in the Wellesley public library, and someone insane just sat down next to me. I just hope he doesn't lean over and read this.

ANYHOO, so Brando and I in our colorful garb and bindis got harassed by many a Jesus-monger on the journey to Grand Central;

"You can't save yourself, man in the glasses!" One yelled, and I agreed. We came upon a huge unattended table covered with various parables, and seized the opportunity to collect some for our Satan-loving karmic sibling Amanda Miller slash Betsy. And then in Grand Central we were thrilled and relieved to receive pamphlets for something other than Jesus.... chocolate!

And then as we ascended the stairs and I turned the pamphlet over, I realized that it was indeed an ad for Jesus after all. Because he's better than chocolate. And the Bible, my friends, is the ultimate comfort food. I'll keep that in mind for the next time I binge.

This insane guy sitting next to me kind of reminds me of someone I hooked up with once. They both smelled kind of bad.

Anyway, we ran to catch our six o'clock train only to be faced with more absurdity; there were "two hot cars, and three packed," meaning you could either sit in the 120 degree car with a few other select masochists, or stand in the 60 degree car with the self-respecting part of the population. Needless to say, there was much symbolism to be derived from the next twenty minutes. There was also much bickering, sweating, and petulant whining, as certain members of the duo questioned how they had come to be in this train car, and what if there wasn't any cell phone reception, and what had happened to all the water, and what they died on the commuter rail to Poughkeepsie, and other members of the duo sat stoically and masochistically by, and occasionally rolled their eyes and said things like, "It's not like the train is going to be underground all the way to Poughkeepsie," and "Maybe you should bring your own water on 100 degree days," and so it went until a fiesty female ticket collector came through and yelled at everyone for choosing to sit in the 120 degree car ("There are three other cars, people!"). And so the masochist was over-ruled and separate seats were obtained in a 60 degree car, and it was a lovely evening ride along the Hudson.

The first person we saw getting out of the train was my cousin's husband, who was arriving home from work. I got to meet my cousin's adorable new twins, and see her rapidly growing and now talking Georgie, and we had a lovely drive back to Omega and Betsy had just arrived back from Ohio and so everything resumed its natural order. I got a good sleep and today drove to Boston to meet with Mike Davidson, a locally based record producer, and we talked about lots of different options for how we might go about making a cd this summer/fall. Let the planning and fundraising and musical collaboration begin! I loved the studio; for some reason, the whole time I just had a Beatles/1960's feel.... probably because they have a Mellotron, which was used in "Strawberry Fields." Anyway, I feel like it is time... and it felt auspicious that right as I exited from the highway to Brighton, my favorite song of the moment, "Home" by the Magnetic Zeroes came on... the energy of that song, mixed with anything by the Beatles, is how I want cd-making and my music to feel.

I think the insane man may have just gone to pee in the corner. Therefore, I also think it's time to head out and hit the road back to Omega... but first maybe a walk around the lake on Wellesley campus. : ) Oh, such beauty.... hooray!