Sahaja Meditation in the USA

Becoming aware of our thoughts: No matter what is happening, or what we’re looking at, our habit is to always be thinking. If we can’t control our thoughts — if they’re like a radio station we can’t turn off — they can affect our mood, and even affect our ability to perceive reality. The first step in becoming silent — in entering a state of meditation — is to become aware of our own thoughts: “Hmmm, that tree in our backyard. I wonder how that tree is doing. I always liked that tree. I once fell out of that tree — boy did that hurt. I hope no-one has cut down that tree. Wow, I sure am having a lot of thoughts about a tree.”

Detaching from our thoughts: After we become aware of what we are thinking, the next step is to see the content of our thoughts, without being attached to our thoughts. The thought no longer controls us; it no longer causes a reaction; it doesn’t distract us from what is right in front of us: “There’s a statue, and there’s a thought about a tree.”

Inner peace and silence: The next step is to enter fully into meditation. There are no thoughts. There are no shadows from the past, and no worries about the future. We are stress-free. We perceive directly what is in front of us, without an inner babble of opinions and reactions. With daily practice of Sahaja Meditation, most of us can move easily and quickly from non-stop thinking to a state of inner silence in less than a minute.

An eye-opening article appeared in the New York Times magazine on January 8, 2012: “All Bent out of Shape” by William J. Broad. One yoga practioner, Glenn Black, had to have corrective surgery to his back, after years of feeling discomfort coming out of certain yoga poses. He tried to warn others at a yoga conference. He told the author of the article that he had said, ” ‘Asana is not a panacea or a cure-all. In fact, if you do it with ego or obsession, you’ll end up causing problems.’ A lot of people don’t like to hear that.”

The message from the article seems to be, when people practice physical yoga poses, they can push themselves beyond their physical limits; they might be doing yoga with ego. The result could be mild to severe injury, especially in the neck region.

The ancient tradition of “yoga” is wholistic. Well-being includes introspection, silent meditation and physical exercises. Today, “yoga” is often considered as solely a physical activity. We “do” yoga. The ancient tradition of yoga is to be IN yoga, in a state of balance and self-awareness.

When we look at something, and we’re thinking, we’re seeing the content of our thoughts:

But, since we’re thinking, our thoughts might not correspond to what is really in front of us.

In meditation, our mind becomes quiet. There are no thoughts. We perceive directly, and enjoy fully, what is really in front of us.

I had told my boss that I teach Sahaja Meditation at a local library. A few days ago, on a particularly stressful day at work, she sought me out, and asked if I could help her to meditate. We found a quiet place with no distractions, and, using the simple techniques of Sahaja Meditation, we were soon both in a quiet, calm state. She felt some relief from the traumas of the day (her thoughts slowed down, with perhaps a minute of complete mental silence), and was open to trying to meditate on her own at home.

A friend of mine tried Sahaja Meditation, and after five months or so, decided to try meditating before one of her regular blood pressure checks. Her doctor was surprised by the result, and measured her blood pressure a second time, to confirm the reading: Her blood pressure, usually high, was completely normal.

Nine months after she had started meditating, her schedule got so hectic that she stopped meditating every day. When she went to get her blood pressure checked, it had gone back up again. She knew what she had to do: get back to meditating every day.

Entering a state of meditation is like being in a forest with a road running through it. You stand in the silence of the forest and absorb the grandeur around you. Then, a lone car drives along the road, is audible and visible for a few seconds, and then is gone again. In the stillness of Sahaja Meditation, that’s how a thought is: it comes, it’s briefly in our attention, and then it’s gone. We don’t fight it, we just watch it.

A special public program introducing Sahaja Meditation will be held at the

New York Society for Ethical Culture,
2 West 64th Street at Central Park West

on Tuesday, May 3, 2011 at 7:00 p.m.

The program is in honor of the memory of Mrs. Nirmala Srivastava, the founder of Sahaja Meditation, known throughout the world as “Shri Mataji”, or revered mother.

I was feeling agitated, a bit off-balance. Then I overheard the voice of a good friend on the telephone (he was having a conversation with my wife). I couldn’t make out the exact words he was saying, but I felt the effect of his voice right away. He meditates and teaches Sahaja meditation in high schools. His voice soothed me down. My mood lightened. The negative thoughts were gone.

On Wednesday, February 23, 2011, my best friend passed away. Mrs. Nirmala Srivastava, the founder of Sahaja Meditation, and the founder of Sahaja Yoga, the universal spiritual path, passed away in Genoa, Italy. She was 87 years old.

I first met Mrs. Srivastava in Bombay in January 1982. I spent the next three months travelling with her to different parts of India, and I visited her at her residence in London.

I had the opportunity to see her and talk with her several times over the past 29 years. No matter what my emotional state, she was always glad to see me. She never asked me why I seemed to be learning how to meditate so slowly. Maybe she knew me better than I knew myself. The first time I met her, in 1982, she said to me, “Sometimes it takes a long time.”

Like many others around the world, I addressed her as “Shri Mataji” — Mother. She was always welcoming and gracious. She gave to me only pure love. She was like my Godmother. She saw only my potential, and never my shortcomings. She always encouraged me.

She taught me how to attain a state of sublime inner peace and calm. Meditating with her in India, I experienced for the first time what it meant to stop being separate from everyone else, and instead feel — and enjoy — another person without any distance between them and me.

She showed me that in a state of inner silence, in meditation, every human being shared the same awareness: that we are all connected, we are all part of one human family. It wasn’t a theory or concept. In deep meditation, I could simply feel another human being, and know everything about them.

As I learned to accept other people as they were, I gradually learned to accept myself. I discovered I could actually give compassion and love to others, and the gift of inner silence and peace. All this I received from Shri Mataji. This ability to give love to others is Shri Mataji’s greatest gift to me and to everyone who knew her and loved her. This is her legacy.

–Mark Taylor