My Book on Guru Nanak, THE SINGING GURU, will be out in the USA in February 2015, by the publisher who did my other two books, GANESHA and RUMI: Mandala; a play I wrote almost forty years ago, KAMIA, which won an award in India but was never produced, is finally happening on May 4 in Mumbai. It’s been a busy time, packing up for a seven month sojourn in India, getting therapy for an aching hip, dealing with getting a driver in India since my old driver, who I love, has gotten another very high-paying job. And of course, as before every journey, the thought of death thrusts itself onto one’s consciousness. Last night before falling asleep I imagined myself as one of the passengers on the missing Malaysian Airlines flight that plummeted mysteriously into the Indian Ocean — all my beloved things, my computer, my files, my seriously guarded passport, the diamond ring Payson gave me on valentine’s day, submerged, useless, worthless, my hair floating up like seaweed anchored to my fast dissolving head and brain, organs most of us usually live by and through. It was, all in all, a comforting vision — to see how in the end nothing matters– that helped me drift into a deep and almost dreamless sleep.

It is a vision worth keeping close to the heart. It detaches us from things/ people/thoughts/ideas we hold so dear, and in so doing, lightens our loads/concerns/worries, and makes life a joy and daily celebration.