March 1, 2025
Dear reader,
It’s time for another letter. It’s time to welcome the spring season in the Northern Hemisphere. It’s time to connect again with all of you, my fellow Siddha Yogis and the new seekers I am so eager to get to know.
In my last letter, I wrote about some of the questions we might contemplate as we study Gurumayi’s Message for 2025 and her teachings from In the Presence of Time. For example: Is time truly discrete and measurable, or is this simply a story we tell ourselves while time remains as it ever was—unending and, to some extent, unknowable? Can time have a personality of its own? Or are the qualities we perceive in a given period of time just a mirror of our own, ever-changing subjective experiences? Does time change or do we change? Does the delineation matter?
If you live in a place with distinct seasons—such as the northeastern United States, where Shree Muktananda Ashram is located—then the question of whether and how time changes is almost certainly influenced by what you see around you. Each season is dramatically different from the others; the transition from one to the next is an undeniable marker of the passage of time. Yet there is a pattern to this movement. The seasons occur in a cycle. What was once vibrantly alive goes to rest; what was dormant blossoms again. Is time a line, then, or is it a circle? Or is it another shape entirely?
March is the month of the spring equinox, and spring brings with it the first signs of renewed life. Tender green shoots poke up from the ground. There is an ineffable something in the air as it warms—the promise of more light, perhaps, as the days visibly lengthen; the unspoken excitement that attends any new beginning. It’s no surprise that there are so many festivals around the world associated with the springtime. In India, for example, people celebrate Holi and Gudhi Padva, both of which are taking place in March this year.
I find it useful, even encouraging, to think about spring and its connotations given the current moment we are living in. For many people, it may be disorienting to observe what is happening in the world; the loss of stability is acute. Our attention, our emotions might vacillate each day between sorrow for what is and an indefatigable belief in what could be—what must be, if we have anything to say about it. Our wish to retreat and recoil might be matched only by our motivation to bring about real and meaningful change. There seems to be more turmoil than ever before, both around us and within us. But then, isn’t that the nature of life? The struggle to find answers—for what we thought we had understood but now question, and for what we may have never really known at all—is part of what it means to be a thinking human being.
Still, I take solace in the seemingly limitless capacity of people to create happiness—to find and expand joy. Throughout history, human beings have had to withstand periods of untold hardship. And yet they have always found some reason, some occasion, to celebrate. Amidst whatever challenges they have faced, they have sat with one another and broken bread. They have shared stories, made music, linked arms in dancing. They have fallen in love; they have married. And each year, when the spring has come, they have acknowledged nature’s beauty and bounty. They have chosen to remember the goodness in life.
This notion of rippling possibility—of hope, of resiliency—undergirds Gurumayi’s teachings from In the Presence of Time. It is something that many of you have picked up on already. As one of you recently shared on the Siddha Yoga path website:
This practice and study of time that Gurumayi is gracing us with is so exciting for so many reasons. I am now waking up every day asking myself with great anticipation, “Oh, I wonder what time it is today!”
Yes; what time is it? What time will it be? The tabula rasa of it all, the prospect that each day can be new—or at least, that we can be new, in how we approach and make use of our time—is invigorating. In Shree Muktananda Ashram, one of the first plants we see in spring is the snowdrop. It is an unassuming flower, its small white petals hovering just inches above the earth, but it is remarkable for its hardiness. It often appears while ice and snow are still on the ground; in fact, snowdrops have the ability to respond to temperature, closing in on themselves for protection when the weather is very cold and reopening when it warms again. In their own way, then, these little flowers carry a lesson for us—a lesson in how to triumph over challenge, how to remain undaunted by what has been, how to live with the understanding that no condition is final. There is always more inner strength available to us.
Sincerely,
Eesha Sardesai
I read these very insightful words reflecting on Gurumayi’s Message and teachings about time as I awaited a severe weather event. The fact that time is more pure than we treat it—taking on all our own thoughts, feelings, and expectations—reminded me of simple foods such as tofu or mushrooms that take on and even become dominated by the flavor of the spices we add to them. In life, our minds provide the spices for time and we always have the choice to flavor time with whatever we think and believe.
It is deeply comforting to consider the snowdrop, which has the strength to blossom in the freezing cold and the innate ability to retreat and wait until conditions are right to blossom again. I will be holding this image with me in the coming days of extreme weather, allowing the time to pass over as I stay in my home, knowing that when it is done, there will be help and positivity needed, and breaking bread to attend to. I am deeply grateful for this reflection.
Evans Head, Australia
In this letter, the writer speaks of the times we are living in and the struggles we are experiencing. This is so powerful for me. This acknowledgment of what I and others are experiencing gives me strength. Frequently, with all that is going on, I have had an uneasy feeling.
Yet, after reading this letter, I have a new feeling. I have awakened to a feeling of springtime in my heart. I am inspired to march forward in my life with determination and love. The Guru’s grace and love are always with me.
Maryland, United States
What a lovely way to begin the month of March! I particularly love the word
resiliency in this letter. It is a quality I have been challenged to develop in myself for many years when facing “tests” in my
sadhana—large and small. Yet, every time I have had to reinvent myself, I have discovered greater and greater depths of resourcefulness, creativity, and perseverance within myself.
I find
resiliency to be the capacity to not only bounce back from adversity but to engage with life’s challenges in a transformative way. Through self-effort and grace, these challenges become a catalyst and a doorway to a new and greater experience—greater than I thought possible.
California, United States
I read Eesha’s letter with attention and interest, especially her contemplation on nature in connection with Gurumayi’s teachings. When she emphasized the strength of the snowdrop, I remembered that the French name for this spring flower is perce-neige (meaning “that which pierces the snow”), which reflects all its strength.
At this time of approaching spring, I feel this ascending force—an energy rising in all creatures, including myself. The birds are singing and eating with a lot of appetite, the buds of the roses are unfolding, the twigs of the willows are turning springtime yellow. I measure carefully what my body needs in food, activity, and rest so that I can enter into harmony with this natural reawakening. As I feel my vitality, I relish the tender vibrations of my heart.
Rodez, France
After reading this inspiring letter, I was filled with a new gratitude. I have also been bent a bit low by world events and deeply concerned for my beloved country. My family has been in Maryland since the early 1700s, and every generation has fought dearly for our freedoms.
But this is life indeed—the ebb and the flow. My gratitude came in the form of a profound need to simply say “Thank you.” My thanks go to everyone who brings me wisdom, good counsel, and love and who reminds me that life always begins anew! I can feel the first buds of courage and hope springing from deep inside.
I owe this resilience to my Shri Guru, and I am grateful for the beautiful words of her students, like those in this letter.
Maryland, United States
I very much appreciated this deep contemplation of time and spring. I especially love the lessons Eesha draws from the snowdrop flower in “how to triumph over challenge.” So far, the new year has been very challenging for me personally and physically. So hearing about the snowdrop is a great reminder for me to start each day with new eyes and new intentions, knowing that “there is always more inner strength available to us.”
California, United States