Falling Back into Old Patterns

October 2023

All the cabinet drawers in my kitchen are ajar, as I reach in to collect my favorite small bowls, packages of milky cashews and plump dates. Some vessels are filled with purified water or milk, others an assortment of sweets. A small vase is filled with color buds of flowers- chrysanthemums, roses, marigolds. The bounty is big enough that it takes me multiple trips upstairs. Finally I boil water for tea, and bring the piping hot mug with me up to my altar room. Ghee lamps are topped off with heaps of golden butter, a fresh stick of incense is drawn from the package and laid out on the altar. I neatly arrange my offerings in front of the Devi, ringing the bell, calling her to the feast.

It is a pattern I am thankful to fall back into.

This year I have noticed a theme unfolding in my life and teachings- the sacred order of patterns. When I think of patterns, I have to admit that I generally go right to the problematic ones. Conjuring images of cycles of unrequited love, habituated verbal self flagellation, the glum of looking in the mirror and sinking at what I behold. Patterns that have dulled me, dampened me, patterns that have held me back in cycles of suffering. To only see the negative, is it’s own cycle at play.

I look up at my altar and wave incense and lit flames, chanting to Sri Ganesha to bless this sadhana. Ganesha, Ganapati, the lord of categories and patterns. The unfoldment of the cosmos. The universe itself is an expression of sacred pattern, a celestial yantra pulsing with life. To abide within a pattern is to be seated in the organizing principle, the Devi herself. So us yogis then see, it is then my prerogative, what patterns will I replicate?

This summer carved a moat between me and my sadhana. A schedule more full with responsibilities, places to be, material things needing to be tended to. To sit at my altar felt like one more thing to do, I wasn’t yet adjusted to the new cadence of life. Many nights I found myself speed chanting as my pasta boiled, no respite for peacefulness, but rather a recipe for a burnt dinner. Quicker than I realized, it became habit.

Autumn has brought with it a call inward, and the fortune of sacred celebration to inspire devotion. So as Navaratri arrived with the solar eclipse, I have let go into her arms, and fallen in to the pattern of my devotion. Grooves that I have dug over years and years, hundreds, even thousands of prayers chanted to my beloved. If I can loosen my grip, I feel myself sink into her embrace. I am held in her love.

I bring her my aching heart, I bring her my overwhelm, confusion, I bring her my anger and hurt. At her feet I lay my laughter, my joy, my gratitude, I sing to her the sweetness of my simple life. In bowls and copper plates I offer my humble fortunes, my bounty, the jewels of my prosperity. Miraculously, she receives it all.

As our hearts break, and our anger stirs, I encourage you to let go into your devotion. Let your beloved be the arms to hold your complexity, your fullness, your emptiness. It is this divine relationship that lays the groundwork for us to bring that magnitude of our being into our relationships, to let ourselves be in community. The ache of heart opening is often soothed and nourished by sangha, loving friends, compassionate parents. This year the Devi is speaking to us, offering us her protection as the world rumbles. Fall back into her, she is here, she is here.