I had wanted to get married since I was a young girl. But I reeeeally wanted to get married for about five years straight.
I prayed.
I waited.
I asked for advice.
I read books. Lots of 'em.
I wrote letters and lists and petitions to Krishna.
I cried. A lot. There were months and years of silence, of endless silence.
When I was 26, I was living in Mayapur, India, facing much pain and longing in my heart to simply be married and move on in life. I prayed and took solace in Radha Madhava.
I stayed on to teach middle school English, which would take me well into the thick of an insane Mayapur summer. When all the pilgrims filtered away from the festivals and Mayapur had settled into a sleepy and kind of gently abandoned town, my heart began to unfurl. I lived in this big old building on the edge of Mayapur, on the second floor. I would teach during the (insanely hot) day, then come home. I lived alone. I ate alone. I wrote alone. Everything,
alone.
Day after day, I began to experience - I'm not alone.
I have me.
I have Krishna.
I love this company. Love. If I was to spend the rest of my life with anyone, I am a pretty darn lovely person, and Krishna is too.
In my journals, the topic of marriage was conspicuous by its absence. All my life I had filled the pages of my journal with stories and realizations and prayers of love and marriage.
And while I had always written about these particular topics as well, I noticed that ALL I wrote about seemed to be the beauty of the sunset over Mayapur fields, the naughtiness of one of my students, the glory of God and how He loves me. I experienced trust blossom in my heart.
I was so content being on my own, I was happy to continue this way for much longer, to explore my career, to develop friendships, cultivate my service...
And of course, "When you're not looking for it, Krishna gives it to you,"
I had this sense that Krishna was sending me someone soon, simply because I was content on my own. It's a funny thing. As soon as we become whole and satisfied on our own, Krishna sends us someone.
Yup, let's see, precisely ten days after I left Mayapur, I met my future husband, who is also a whole and beautiful devotee of Krishna.
One + One = Three.
I prayed.
I waited.
I asked for advice.
I read books. Lots of 'em.
I wrote letters and lists and petitions to Krishna.
I cried. A lot. There were months and years of silence, of endless silence.
When I was 26, I was living in Mayapur, India, facing much pain and longing in my heart to simply be married and move on in life. I prayed and took solace in Radha Madhava.
I stayed on to teach middle school English, which would take me well into the thick of an insane Mayapur summer. When all the pilgrims filtered away from the festivals and Mayapur had settled into a sleepy and kind of gently abandoned town, my heart began to unfurl. I lived in this big old building on the edge of Mayapur, on the second floor. I would teach during the (insanely hot) day, then come home. I lived alone. I ate alone. I wrote alone. Everything,
alone.
Day after day, I began to experience - I'm not alone.
I have me.
I have Krishna.
I love this company. Love. If I was to spend the rest of my life with anyone, I am a pretty darn lovely person, and Krishna is too.
In my journals, the topic of marriage was conspicuous by its absence. All my life I had filled the pages of my journal with stories and realizations and prayers of love and marriage.
And while I had always written about these particular topics as well, I noticed that ALL I wrote about seemed to be the beauty of the sunset over Mayapur fields, the naughtiness of one of my students, the glory of God and how He loves me. I experienced trust blossom in my heart.
I was so content being on my own, I was happy to continue this way for much longer, to explore my career, to develop friendships, cultivate my service...
And of course, "When you're not looking for it, Krishna gives it to you,"
I had this sense that Krishna was sending me someone soon, simply because I was content on my own. It's a funny thing. As soon as we become whole and satisfied on our own, Krishna sends us someone.
Yup, let's see, precisely ten days after I left Mayapur, I met my future husband, who is also a whole and beautiful devotee of Krishna.
One + One = Three.
2 comments:
one+one=three Awesome!
Absolutely love this. Thank you for sharing yourself so openly and honestly!
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