Hari Om, Mataji

Another great soul has departed this earth.  I, along with many others, called her Mataji (beloved mother), and she was my teacher.  How do I talk about the depth of love she evoked in me?  How do I express her life-changing wisdom that guided my life in the direction of contentment?  Where do I find the words to express the depth of gratitude that floods my body?

I have heard it said that when one dies, they leave themselves behind in an even more profound way than when they were alive.  Memories of the one who has passed on linger and deepen and continue to nourish and teach.  It is as if now we know that person as a constant, continuing part of us.

Here is what I remember:  her girlish giggles, her constant service to others, her generous spirit, and her continuous communion with the Divine.  I also remember how I felt being in her presence:  somehow changed, somehow content to be who I am and to let things be as they are.  And I remember the feeling of being loved so deeply, even though I knew she saw right through me.

Hari Om, Mataji.  Your courage to leave the life you knew in Germany and follow the hunger that led you to India, is a witness to us all to listen to and honor the hunger within ourselves.  And through your many years of challenge, your hunger was satisfied, and you became a light that shined in a little ashram in India, where many of us traveled great distances to sit at your feet.