There is a feeling in singing. Why would people be so fond of it if there was not.
We can’t just recite words melodically, there must a be a feeling inside of us. This
is why our performers are so beloved by their audiences. They offer that feeling.
I’ve been listening to Anandamayi Ma. I read some of a scroll where her words were
printed in English. She said I was unable to commit completely to anything and I
remembered all the walls I met when I ventured into things. Particularly I remembered
Krsna. How I loved that. I loved the way they spelled his name without the i and h. I
loved the pictures and the books, but when I chanted I had these dreams that spoke
to sexual preference transformed into a spiritual sexual experience and I rejected. I
think it may have something to do with the pain in my sexual area now. I would float
up and see Krsna. When I saw him it made me come. I guess I had been aroused as
I was sleeping. I had been aroused in the dream originally, not in a way I would like, aroused
to have sex with a popular personality. I didn’t want to have sex with such an esteemed
person. It wasn’t our relationship. My dad would want that for me. We were unfriendly
toward each other.
I was a smoker then which was another barrier to chanting. I might have been in a big hurry
to advance in yoga. Quit this and that, diksha from a Guru, the haircut. But had I thought
of my parents? My mom would be upset as I saw it.
Oh, that word, that name kept right on. I couldn’t shut it up. It didn’t matter that I had
changed my mind. It didn’t matter these times. I talked to a mental health professional
about it. Nothing could be done as if they were as plagued by the power of Krsna as I
was. But that couldn’t be. Could it? That name made everything so bright and transcendental but I had already been through an experience. I was always experiencing I guess. Experiencing, experiencing, experiencing.
There was the Gay/Bisexual experience. There was the love experience. I had had a girlfriend with whom I was having trouble breaking up. And other love experience. I was in love with so many pretty women/girls who crossed my path. And there was jealous love. I was in love with the girlfriend of one of “da guys.” I had the drug experience, smoking pot every day, drinking beer if it was available. Mushrooms, I have taken them. Some wanted to make a church of it. Mushrooms did make me feel a bit uncomfortable. At first. Sometimes I felt they weren’t even worth taking. Maybe they were the wrong ones. I got to feel like the drugs were more important than the love/sex experience to my friends. The larger society would be more responsible for that. No sex education even at the college level. If a boy or girl is stuck at his mom and dad’s place, does anyone care? Is it of some concern? That they don’t have a loving sexual experience? The boy has no girlfriend, the girl has no boyfriend? And I was already studying Buddhism I guess through Alice Ann Bailey’s books. An experience arose with them. It disappeared too but I was so taken by it that I got on the wrong side of a lot of people which I was already very capable of doing with my liberal philosophy and my support at home. My mom supported me.