The Sri Chinmoy Mobile

The Sri Chinmoy Mobile

Remembering ... One day on Thompson Street in The Village in New York City, I found a storefront space with the art works of Sri Chinmoy on display. He had a significant spiritual following in the New York City area.  

Sri Chinmoy, from of what I know to tell was a high minded Yogi and Spiritual Teacher. He espoused a kind of BE ALL YOU CAN BE approach. [Totally that's my take.] Himself, he was an artist, a musician [I saw him in concert at the Beacon Theater where several instruments were set on stage and he came out and played every one of them. Expertly, with Spirit.] I believe he ran marathons, and recall something about lifting stupendous weights. Looking up his biography I see also he was a prolific writer, and poet. Like we say in NYC, he was a real Mensch. Make that Real Mensch.

At the art exhibit one was prohibited from taking pictures. But, Outlaw Dave was in charge that day, and I persuaded one of the devotee lovelies, to share her charms.

I also bought a small child’s crib mobile designed by The Master. Several random rounded shaped flat pieces with generic designs sprinkled with gem colors of glitter. I took it to be a child’s crib mobile; but, now, at this moment as I’m writing I’m thinking about that glitter falling on the kiddo’s face! NO! So, I’ll take full responsibility for taking it as a crib ornament. Didn't occur to me then, about the falling glitter. I didn't get any complaints.

But, but ... as a crib ornament. Think about it. We usually set a crib ornament decorated with sweet pastel images of bubbles, rainbows, little lambs, all that ootsy-cutesy. This one was as delicate as a butterfly, with pure shapes, and jewel colors. What the designs were, I don’t recall. Maybe just brushed gestures. Which, when you think about it — Sri Chinmoy was a Man of God — spoke a beautiful language all its own. If anything, he gave his essence in that little mobile.

I gave the mobile as a welcome gift to my friends’ brand new baby Girl. I think they set it up on the crib.

Today that little baby is a grown woman. I don’t have contact with her, or her parents. I wonder how she’s doing. And also wonder what impression that little mobile left; and, how it’s unfolding.

And, receiving that gift back today in recalling the time, and contemplating how we form our world from the first sight.