Light on Your Path

January 3 2012

Each month Guru Fatha Singh Khalsa offers insights and inspiration for our changing times

Just imagine. Imagine everything you saw, every face you looked into, did not spark even the remotest flicker of recognition. Everywhere you looked, just about everything you heard — nothing sounded familiar. Then imagine opening your mouth to speak and finding nothing you say can be understood. Strange, no? The contents of a nightmare, perhaps? Take a breath. This is the experience of many immigrants.

Sometimes an immigrant is pushed to come here by unbearable circumstances in their home country. Sometimes they are pulled here by the prospects of a better life. To be an immigrant in a new land requires a lot of courage.

The story of the immigrant who moves here from another continent reminds me of the story of chakras, the yogic energy centres in the body–mind. The chakras are aligned with the spine, from bottom to top and beyond. Each has a particular characteristic, a certain lesson to teach us.

Bottom-most, the moolaadhaara chakra at the anus reminds us to be grounded and humble, to not take too much for granted. Next, the svaadishthaanaa chakra, at the level of the procreative organs, reminds us of the water element: the flow of life and relationships. One wants to neither freeze up nor evaporate, but to flow harmoniously in our dealings with others.

The manipooraka chakra, just below the navel, is the fire in the belly. It is the energy and stamina we need to do the important things in our lives. At the centre of the chest is the anaahata chakra. It exemplifies our caring aspect. We live to the extent that we care about ourselves and others and our environments. When we are discouraged, we might say, “I don’t care!” — but usually we don’t really mean it. The element of the fourth chakra is air.

At the throat centre, the vishuddhi chakra, we have the opportunity to speak our heart. At the aajnaa chakra, at the forehead, sometimes we experience intuition and foresight.

Next to last is the sahasraara, the ten-thousand-petalled lotus at the crown of the head. It is a difficult place to attain. It is the place of sacrifice, new horizons, and deep, irrational faith.

The difference between the sixth centre and the seventh is that, at the sixth, the yogi can still think and argue and choose. At the seventh, the yogi hears the call of destiny and follows without questioning. In so doing, they leave the world to which they are accustomed. They leave all their normal comforts and securities. For what? For the deep, personal satisfaction of knowing they have not refused their destiny’s call.

That call can take many forms. Sometimes it takes the form of an impossible career. Mom and Dad are bankers, and you want to play the violin — you really want to play the violin. Sometimes it is forbidden love — you know the story of Romeo and Juliet. Sometimes it is a call of scientific discovery or some other frontier where no one else wants to go. And yes, sometimes it is the call of distant shores, distant skies, distant lands. “You want to move to Canada??? What??? Are you crazy???”

Becoming an immigrant is going on faith; taking a huge gamble with your life and your family and your future. Suddenly, nothing is familiar. You open your mouth to speak and nobody understands. But you know what? Difficult as it is, there is no life like the life of an immigrant, for the seventh chakra, the realm of faith and promise and opportunity and sacrifice, has another name too. It is also “seventh heaven.”