In 1989, I made a sacred pilgrimage to India. While there, I participated in an international peace conference. I spoke on peace to an audience largely comprised of the local contingent of Bangalorians: there was a good representation of local government officials and also a smattering of dignitaries from other Indian states. As a delegate, I was given the opportunity to address the several hundred attendees on my views of the state of the world and commitment to a world filled with peaceful co-habitation.
From the World Peace conference I began a holy pilgrimage of mother India. I traveled with my friend and teacher Guruji Keshavadas. He was then leading a group of 26 Americans for a 3-week tour of holy places. It was a magical time. Mystery and mysticism were all around me. I was enveloped with the spiritual expansion of a culture entirely founded on her historical past, a past ripe with tales of Gods and Goddesses and filled with inspiration ritual and instruction for living well on this holy planet.
As I toured through mother India by bus plane taxi rickshaw and even camel,
my spiritual body was filled with epic stories and quaint parables from the Hindu tradition. I learned many Mantras and prayers to assist and invoke the aspect of my god self and my transformation towards an awakened enlightened life. I feel so grateful for the months I spent enveloped in the spiritual culture that has blessed me with an expanded version of endless options for living a thoughtful spiritual life.
As the tour of sacred places drew to a close; Guruji, Ramamata (his wonderful wife) and a few devotees headed home to the ashram in Bangalore for additional study and reflection.
The ashram was wild and rustic. It proudly supported one gigantic commode for foreign visitors to use (bathroom rituals). However, there was no real plumbing hooked up so after using this porcelain throne one would fill several small buckets of water to complete the “flushing ritual”.
I feel so blessed to have stayed and lived in the home of this amazing couple, to have shared in many private moments of reflection and solace and to have been treated like a revered and honored guest as we traveled from temple to temple and home to home for satsunga and blessings to the thousands of devotees Guruji nurtured and cared for.
I usually sat next to him on his left side. He loved having me close and would be visibly distressed when I wasn’t with him.
When we met, he looked long and hard at me. Then proclaimed; “where have you been, I don’t understand it I have searched for you my entire life, and now I am an old man and you finally show up. Where have you been?” I told him I had been in Minnesota, and he looked so puzzled, “I have been there many times but did not find you?” I had never been to a satsunga in Minnesota, though I had for several years gone to an ashram in South Falsburg New York. He knew the guru there and said yes he had taught and done satsunga for that ashram also.
So there we were. Finally sinking up together to share the spiritual heritage of the vishnavites, the devotional worship of the God/Goddess of love .
Back then I was a woman full of contradictions. I carried the pains of a difficult upbringing.
There were many blissful moments during our time together. My favorite moments were during the chant of the divine names of God. I would often be found in an ecstatic state of meditation, no longer related to my physical body. The ashramites would wrap me in a meditation shawl and place me on the alter safe away from the activities of a bustling ashram.
On the fourth day of our friendship, Guruji gave me an Indian name and asked me to stay with him. That was the day he started asking me to come back to the ashram and live in his home. In the following days he continued to check in with me and after some consideration and a change of plans (a deferred Egyptian leg of the trip) I accepted his offer.
I was somewhat resistant to the Indian name he blessed me with, but it was an important and meaningful endowment that he could gift me, and I have since then truly cherish the name. It has moved me to become more and more of myself as the years have passed.
I remember those moments so clearly, as if it was only yesterday. We were sitting at a long table in the Holiday Inn in Bangalore. There were 11 devotees at the table with us. He called me to come sit next to him. Again Guruji sat quietly for a few moments. It appeared he was reaching into the distant eitheris in search of some very specific information. As he emerged my name flowed from his lips, you are Vedavati (pronounced; Way-dha-vah-tee) . He told me at the same time I was the only one of the tens of thousands of followers he had who he had given that particular name to.
The Story of the goddess Vedavati
Thousands of years ago, a baby girl was born to a holy Brahmin and his devoted wife. The baby girl was truly a blessing for this couple as they had hoped for many years that the goddess would bless them with a child. Finally at long last she answered their fervent prayers with a precious little girl.
She was named Vedavati for she would be trained in the scriptures. (Veda is the name of the Scriptures, there are four in all).
Vedavati’s mother passed at age six, and her father who was in his 60’s was left with the responsibility of raising this amazing girl. Her father’s past time was to sit by the fire and recite scripture for hours upon hours.
Vedavati also loved the scriptures and her passion kept her at the fireside long after father retired, chanting and reciting the holy mantras and passages of scripture. Her devotion was filled with the passions and imaginings of youth and she imagined these prayers would make her a suitable wife for none other than Lord Rama Himself.
As Vedavati matured she grew into quite a beauty. Her raven black hair grew long as her figure filled out with luscious curves. She became a stunningly gorgeous young woman.
Her ancient father seemed to suddenly grow old. He often dosed during prayer and would take his rest frequently as his energy waned.
In that era there were ravenous demons who stole young woman from their homes and made these innocent beauties their wives. One day the demon Ravana discovered the beautiful maiden Vedavati at the ritual fire in reverie. He sought to capture her and make her his property, for such a maiden was indeed a rare find.
As the demon approached this chaste young woman she felt his presence and bobbed away. He grabbed for her. Again she dodged quickly away from his grip. Unfortunately she was not fast enough. With the fierce speed of a warrior demon, he grabbed her hair. She fought him off. With one fail swoop, Vedavati ripped her hair out of her head severing his connection with her.
But the damage was done. The demon had defiled her. Her long raven black hair was shorn from her head. She had been contaminated by the demon.
(Although the story of her in the passages I read was quite brief, one is left to believe there was more to this story, he was a demon, dark in nature. The reader is left to imagine the worst from this assault, and comes to that conclusion easily as the story continues)
In her pain, shame and horror she in seconds decides her fate. In her youthful ignorance she believes all was lost. Years of dedication, pray, preparation and purity are gone forever.
She cannot bear the pain of this mortifying defilement. Vedavati in her anguish throws herself into the funeral pyre. She believes she can rid herself of the impurities of this contamination in the flames of the fire. Her thought was to reincarnate in a pure vessel. She would come back cleansed in her next life. In her agony Vedavati’s mind never waivers from her objective of being wed to her beloved Lord Rama.
In the progression of this amazing legend Vedavati does reincarnate as the goddess Sita. She is successful in her aim to wed Lord Rama. She becomes the devoted wife of a great prince who eventually becomes king, and yet her destiny requires karmic completion.
Because Vedavati had not completed karma with Ravana the demon, her life is not her own. So much of Sitas married life to Lord Rama revolved around struggle. She went through the long ordeal of working out karma with the demon, Ravana.
Her resistance to the demon in her life as Vedavati never had a chance to clear. She went to her death believing she was contaminated by the demon. She never had the time to understand that no person can cause you to be unclean. An individual may need to release emotions and grief around the thoughts of pain and suffering. This is a natural part of the body healing, but Vedavati’s thoughts, not Ravana caused her to believe she was impure. God has made us radiant beings of light. Regardless of our outer circumstances we remain radiant beings of light whole complete and pure.
In this day we wonder what must have created the energy match of violence in her etheric body for her to have shown up on the demons radar. Perhaps she had thought on the mistreatment of other women in her era. Certainly there was injustice all around her and mistreatment of women. Maybe some of her thoughts had gone to wonder or through anger or disdain towards the male species. Her response to the demon revealed she had an understanding he was there to harm her, yet perhaps she could have awakened the light in this creature if she had seen him also as a radiant being of light.
Thinking about stories from other traditions, the lion who becomes a devoted friend when a thorn is removed from his paw, the beast who loves and treasures beauty, the stories of monstrous beings having a loving side is ripe through our cross cultural stories. The opportunity she missed as Vedavati was revisited as she was kidnapped and held hostage by the demon for years.
I too had many misgivings and apprehensions about my early life. I too had devoted my life to God through prayer meditation worship and song. I had not yet awakened to the knowing that I was the grand creator and the Director of my life. I created hundreds of opportunities to learn about being the master of my fate and turning the energies back to love, yet I held tight to my righteous indignation.
By believing that anything in my life was wrong, that I had nothing to do with the playing out of all things and that my tormented emotional body could tough it up rather than release and let go meant I would remain a kidnapped prisoner in Ravana encampment for many years to come.
When I read the story of Vedavati I was pained to have been so transparent to Guruji. In tears I told him I did not want the name. I declared to him; “this is the name of a young woman who had been violated” (a painful reminder of my own life). I could not see the blessing in wearing the name Vedavati then.
The story and the message was there for me to see plan as day. She missed the opportunity right on the spot. Had she looked at Ravana as a man and a being of light, rather than an evil demon and one to be feared perhaps it would have played out very differently.
There were many aspects of the story that resonated with my life. I realized I did not have to die or run from the pain filled memories of my young life. I could grow up in my thinking and be accountable for everything in my world. (this took many years, and I am still learning this). I could alter my thoughts. I could take violence out of my field of vision. I could heal and release once and for all pictures in my mind that were remnants of events long past and trust that everything that has happened to me thus far has shaped me into the beautiful being I am today.
Months later we revisited the name together. Guruji seeing my desire to move beyond the karmic bonds and patterns of my given spiritual name, renamed me Veda.
From that moment on he always told me I brought with me “the highest truth”. Veda is the name of the Hindu scriptures. The four volumes of the Vedas contain many mysteries and information about the natural and spiritual world, how they work hand in hand together.
Guruji often introduced me to his followers as “Our beloved American daughter Vedama”. Our love for god grew as we became family to each other. I was included in the private family gatherings. Frequently I would rest in his brothers guest room as they conducted family business.
Living in India was filled with both ecstasy and agony. I bounced between absolute spiritual bliss and human memories filled with misery. more to come!…..
Have a Blissful Day!
