Tryouts

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A few weeks back, we took our daughter to a tryout for the “travel” team.

For those unfamiliar with the hierarchy in youth soccer, there is a “recreational” league open to everyone, where she typically plays.  Then a more competitive “select” team you have to try out for.  Then there’s “travel”…or what I like to refer to as “the elite.”

Just watching the other girls warmup as we arrived, I knew my daughter felt intimidated.  And I was having one of those moments, that many parents can relate to, where I showed a big smile on my face but in the back of my head was wondering…did I do the right thing?  Was it a smart idea to bring her to a tryout two levels in advance of where she normally plays?  But after a quick pep talk, she reluctantly made her way to the field.

The tryout was rough.  These girls were clearly on another level.   They were much faster, more skilled, and she could barely keep up.  My heart would wrench when the ball would hit her in the face or the stomach, or when she would stumble and fall.

The other girls weren’t particularly nice to her either.  They didn’t say much to her, no encouragement, no high-fives, no helping her up when she fell.  On the sideline I eagerly watched, cheered her on, and had her water ready for her when she needed a break.  At the first break, she was visibly upset at me for bringing her there.  I thought she was ready to leave, and honestly, so was I.  But she went back on the field.  She struggled some more and her abilities were pushed to the limit.  But toward the end of the tryout…something happened.

She was keeping up with the other girls.  She was gelling with the other players.  She was kicking harder, passing better, and most importantly, playing with more confidence.  She was challenged, pushed out of her comfort zone, but motivated to play at a higher level.  Over the course of those 90 minutes, while playing with the best…they made her better.

As I sat their watching, I started wondering about the role that sangat plays in our lives. What does Guru Sahib mean when he refers to the  “Saadh Sangat”, or those Waheguru-connected souls.  I always thought my sangat were the people who lived their Sikhi like me, who had similar views, similar aspirations, who applauded me when I showed strength, and ran to my defense in times of weakness.

But maybe I had it all wrong.

Perhaps the sangat I need are those who challenge me, who push me out of my comfort zone, who motivate me to live at a higher level…and make me better.

I wonder that in my fear of being “judged”, I have avoided bringing that sangat in my life.  But what I’ve since learned is that it’s my own haumai (ego) that decides what is truly “judgement” and what is “tough love” from my sangat, who are only trying to bring me closer to the Guru.

A coach of mine once said “The company you keep will bring you up or they will bring you down…there’s nothing in between.  Because even if they keep you where you are, you’re not growing.”

So it begs the question…is my sangat truly bringing me closer to the guru?  And would I be receptive to “tough love” from my sangat without fear of being “judged?”

And am I being the right kind of sangat to those around me?  Or do I avoid the tough conversations in fear of not sounding “judgy?”

Guru Sahib is clear in the role that sangat plays in our life, so what is preventing me from fully realizing it?

As for the tryout, I’m not sure if my daughter will make the travel team, thats not up for me to decide.  But as parents, we felt it was important she go to the tryout.  At a minimum, she now knows where the bar is set, she knows what she has to do to make it there.  And as for me, I will eagerly watch, cheer her on, and have her water ready for her when she needs a break.


What’s On Your Playlist?

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A few days ago, I came across a shabad that gave me pause.  Guru Arjan Patshah shares in his experience:

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In the simplest of translations, Guru Sahib says, “Many will follow Him…but few will connect.”

I immediately had this image of the hundreds of thousands of Sikhs I’ve seen at nagar kirtans, the throngs of Sikhs elbowing their way in to the Harmandir Sahib, and all the Sikhs past and present who have bowed before the Guru, all displaying so many external forms of respect.

Amongst all of them…few will truly meet Him.

It is not because the Divine is elusive; it’s because of the wall we create that separates ourselves from Him.  For me, it’s a wall constructed of kaam, krodh, lobh, moh, and ahankar.  Despite my efforts to chip away at it, I sometimes wonder if I will ever be one of the lucky ones…or will I just be a follower?

But with every challenge Guru Sahib puts before us, he gives us the tools to overcome it, he says:

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In discussing this shabad with the family, I very matter-of-factly explained to the kids that it is through naam simran and reflection that brings us closer to Waheguru.  Our 7 year old was skeptical, she asked, how does reciting Waheguru’s name bring you closer to Him?  It occurred to me that I sometimes give these knee-jerk responses without truly understanding what it means myself.  Perhaps it’s been hard-wired in to my brain to a point where I regurgitate what I’ve been taught without even thinking about it anymore.  Luckily, children see right through that🙂  So I needed to give a better explanation….and needed to reflect on it more.

Another image came to mind.

I thought about a time on vacation once when I plugged in my earphones, kicked-off my playlist and went for a run.  It was new territory for me, so I tried not to stray too far, but at one point the path split and I had to make a decision which way to go.

I believe many of us hit that proverbial “fork in the road” in our lives too, where we have a choice to follow the guru’s path or our own.  And although it may seem obvious, sometimes the guru’s path is uphill and the weather looks bleak.  And our own path is a downhill coast and can appear much more scenic.  Some of us reach this crossroads at a major turning point in our life, while others face it several times a day.  But the question is, when you hit that fork in the road on your own personal run, what’s on your playlist?

What are you listening to?
What soundtrack is going on in your mind?

Is it filled with doubts, fears, worries, greed, and anger?
Are there tracks of jealousy, one-upmanship, revenge, or ego?

Or does it sound like this…Waheguru, Waheguru, Waheguru, Waheguru…

Does your playlist encapsulate virtues of the Divine?
Do your tracks inspire you to embrace qualities that are pleasing to Him:

Compassion
Discipline
Humility
Courage
Justice
Waheguru, Waheguru, Waheguru…

There are no guarantees that the soundtrack itself will ensure I take the right path, but it sure does increase my odds🙂

So I’m putting my faith in simran
And my ardaas is that the simran becomes more than just tracks on a playlist and keeps playing in my head, long after I remove my earphones
I pray that it no longer becomes a recitation
But instead a state of mind
A state of being
Carrying me across
Leading me to Him


Living Sikhi Judgment-Free

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 I’ve heard it dozens of times in gurmat camps and retreats…

“This is a judgment free discussion”
“Sikhs aren’t supposed to judge”
“…but that would be judgmental”
“Don’t judge me!”

There’s something intriguing about this approach to gurmat-related dialogue.  I don’t remember hearing it as much 20 years ago in the same forums.  Back then I recall intense discussions about the daunting task of living the disciplined life of a Gursikh. Where now, the narrative is more “confident” and with an attitude I summarize as “I am happy with the Sikh that I am…and you have no right to tell me otherwise.”

It’s refreshing to see young Sikhs so comfortable with the skin that they’re in and recognizing that the path of a Sikh is a journey…but I also feel there’s something missing.

There’s a deeply personal element of Sikhi where we individually connect with the Divine, improve our discipline, and battle the five vices that challenge us each day.  But there is a also a public element of Sikh life.  As I see it, our kakkars are not mere symbols, they are a reflection of the principles we hold internally….and we wear them proudly for the world to see.  My kakkars are a declaration of what I believe in, without even having to utter a word.  It represents the high standard that I need to hold myself to, and what my fellow Sikhs need to hold me accountable to as well.

Wait…”fellow Sikhs to hold me accountable??”  Wouldn’t that be judgmental?

After college I had the opportunity to live close to friends I had met over the years at gurmat retreats.  We were like-minded and I truly felt I was with “my sangat” when I was around them.  Besides the typical hangouts, we would often engage in discourse on baani, history, and panthic affairs.  We grew so close that we became familiar with each other’s strengths and weaknesses as we journeyed on the Guru’s path.  And at times, we would challenge each other on our weaknesses and push one another.  For me, sometimes it felt encouraging, but mostly it felt uncomfortable and well…”judge-y.”  And although I was defensive a lot, I also reflected a ton.  Many years have passed since then, but I can honestly say that it was during that period of my life where I grew the most as a Sikh.  And now on days when I feel stagnant and complacent with my Sikhi, those are the days I miss “my sangat” the most.  What I learned is that the problem with judgment isn’t always the person delivering it, but the ego of the one who is receiving it.  Of course, we all want those “cheerleading” friends who encourage us unconditionally and validate the path that we’re on…but that’s not what Sikhi is about.  It’s about transitioning off “my” path and merging on to the Guru’s.  This is not always easy, and sometimes we need a push.

So it begs the question, by trying so hard to make Sikhi so judgment-free, what “lessons” are we trading off?  What “teachable moments” are we missing?

I’m not suggesting we go and put our friends on blast through social media, I’m suggesting we take a look at the sangat around us, and ask ourselves, what am I doing to push the people around me?  What am I doing to help them on the Guru’s path?  And am I willing to embrace the honest feedback my sangat provides me, and take it constructively?

Perhaps our gurmat camps and retreats can put less focus on being “judgment-free”, and more focus on constructive ways to lift one another.  Mentoring, coaching, and feedforward exercises might be a better use of time.

To me, this is not judgment, it’s about being in a sangat.  Because if your sangat is not inspiring you and moving you toward the guru…then what is it doing?


The Guru’s Own

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I call you to form the Saviour-people, the Khalsa, the Guru’s own, the fragrant companionship of the Knights of Heaven. – Prof. Puran Singh

It was around 3:30am on November 10th aboard Amtrak to NYC that I was finally able to connect to the live stream Sarbat Khalsa being held in Chabba village on the outskirts of Amritsar.  Immediately, the sights and sounds of the gathering took me in, reminiscent of the 1986 Sarbat Khalsa video I had watched dozens of times before.  And as each of the resolutions were announced, I had whispered a jakara to myself and felt a sense of hope and optimism for the panth that I hadn’t felt for a long time.  I was overwhelmed.

But as the day passed and the euphoria wore off, I began to wonder how so many of the views I held in minority over the years and debated endlessly with other Sikhs all of a sudden became the views of the global panth.  It made me wonder how representated the deliberations were leading up to the Sarbat Khalsa – not only by gender and geography, but also schools of thought.  One of the beautiful ideals of the Sarbat Khalsa that I’ve grown to admire is the ability for Sikhs with different views to come together and deliberate for as long as needed in the presence of the Guru and reach a consensus to move the panth forward.  With 30 years in between Sarbat Khalsas, how much deliberation and debate could have taken place in matter of a couple days?

Like many of you, I spent the next days and weeks having discussions with anyone I could about the Sarbat Khalsa.  Some I spoke to felt it was perfect.  It was the voice of the Guru and anybody who dare criticize it is anti-panthic and anti-Sikh.  Then some on the other side of the spectrum felt the numbers were far lower than reported, the protocol fell short of a true Sarbat Khalsa, and politicians seeking votes hijacked the entire event. Some felt it was too political, others felt it was not political enough.  And as you can imagine there were a myriad of opinions in between, all from well-intentioned and panthic-minded Sikhs.  I think I felt a little of all these views over the past month, but surprisingly, the one feeling that has never left, is that sense of hope.  Having seen more Sikh movements fail than succeed over my years, it is easy to be cynical, but this time…I couldn’t be.

While the Sarbat Khalsa might have fallen off most of our Facebook feeds and Twitter timelines, a handful of young Sikhs from the DMV (DC, MD, VA area) have been consistently meeting to establish a local Misl where Sikhs will discuss, deliberate, and pass resolutions on panthic matters all per the Sarbat Khalsa tradition and protocol.  Last Saturday, I attended a meeting where the DMV Misl gathered to review the guidelines on how it will function – from how issues/ideas will be submitted, how they will be discussed, how people can raise objections, and how they will be resolved. We spent over 6 hours reviewing every word of the guidelines to make sure everyone in attendance was in agreement.  The meeting was made up of representatives of different gurdwaras (something only youth can pull off), different Sikh institutions, and of everyday Sikhs – men, women, young, old, Punjabi, not Punjabi, Amritdhari, and not-Amritdhari.  And as painful as it was for an old-school guy like me to sit through hours and hours nitpicking a document, it made me wonder about the early days of the Singh Sabha lahir, or what those early discussions might have been like when the rehat maryada was drafted.

Reflecting on the uprising we’ve seen in Punjab over the last few months, it dawned on me how important this exercise is – this is what is missing!  As a panth, we have voiced our discontent with the status quo, the imbalance of justice, lack of economic opportunity, the corruption of politicians, and so much more…but how do we organize and move forward?  The establishment of the Misl gives us the platform to do so at a local level.  And with Guru’s grace, these Misls can be replicated elsewhere, and hopefully connected to a global network so we can truly revive the Guru-gifted tradition of Sarbat Khalsa that has guided us through our darkest of times.

During the meeting, I was reminded of a passage of one of my favorite books “Up From Slavery” by Booker T. Washington.  In this autobiography, Washington speaks from the unique perspective as a child near the abolishment of slavery in the US.  He recalls the actual days leading up to the day they were freed.

“As the great day drew nearer, there was more singing in the slave quarters than usual. It was bolder, had more ring, and lasted later into the night. Most of the verses of the plantation songs had some reference to freedom. True, they had sung those same verses before, but they had been careful to explain that the “freedom” in these songs referred to the next world, and had no connection with life in this world. Now they gradually threw off the mask, and were not afraid to let it be known that the “freedom” in their songs meant freedom of the body in this world.”

Similarly, the idea of “Panth Ki Jeet” has always held special significance to me.  But it was a concept that was either deeply embedded in history or somewhere far out in the future, almost to the point where it is purely symbolic. But as the meeting ended and we stood for Ardaas, I reconnected with these words, they sounded different to me…they were bolder, had more ring.  A wave of emotion came over me; it fell like Guru Sahib’s hand was on our shoulder, reminding us that our time is now.

Several of the youth in the DMV Misl were my students at one point or another at various camps, retreats, and khalsa schools.  But on Saturday, I was the student.  And what I learned from everyone there was the power of Guru-inspired dialogue and what it allows us to achieve individually and as a qaum.  I learned that through perseverance, patience, and humility – our potential is limitless.


They Didn’t Know We Were Seeds

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This evening, Sikhs from the DC Metro area gathered at Lafayette Park in front of the White House to stand in solidarity with Bapu Surat Singh Khalsa and the Sikh political prisoners languishing in Indian jails beyond the terms of their prison sentences.

It was nostalgic…

I remember being a kid 25 years ago standing in that same park, protesting the atrocities of 1984 and the human rights violations that followed.  Back then, we would shout at the top of our lungs, demanding the Indian government give us justice.  For me, tonight wasn’t about issuing any demands.  Personally…I’m done with that.

Bhai Sukha & Bhai Jinda said “The Khalsa does not worship power, rather it enters history by empowering itself.

Tonight, if even with a handful of Sikhs over a short period of time…we empowered ourselves.

There’s a saying, “They tried to bury us.  But they didn’t know we were seeds.”  Seeing all the young people who organized and led the event tonight made me realize what these seeds have blossomed into.

The passionate speeches and thundering naaray sent a clear message to the Indian state…

We’re watching you
We will not be silenced
We will continue to raise our voices
And soon enough, the whole world will be watching you
And you will be exposed for the fake democracy that you are…as Sikhs have known from the beginning

The fact that majority of the attendees were born long after 1984 inspires me, it gives me comfort that the rebellious spirit Guru Sahib has bestowed upon us is alive and kicking

It shows that we will not forget
That we will not sit quietly
That we will not “sweep it under the rug”
Or just “let go of the past”

We are Sikhs of Guru Nanak
And we’re not going anywhere
Until justice is served

#FreeSikhPoliticalPrisoners #BapuSuratSinghKhalsa #DCForBapu


Slipping Away [Spoken Word]

Time-is-Slipping-Away
Birthdays were the best

A day to relax, celebrate with family and friends
And reflect on all of my accomplishments

But this last one was different

That night of my birthday, I was awoken from my sleep
From a sound I couldn’t see, but it came from somewhere deep

The sound was getting louder; it was a sound I couldn’t block
I tried to cover my ears but all I could hear was tick-tock-tick-tock
It was the sound of a clock

I tried to sleep through it, but then I heard the door knock

A knock at the door, something wasn’t right
Who would be here for me at this time of night?

I couldn’t believe who I saw when I opened the door
The ninth master stood before me
And I fell to the floor
He knelt down and whispered in my ear
And what he said to me had me trembling in fear

He said:
Beet Jahai Beet Jahai
Slipping away, your life is uselessly slipping away

And then he was gone

Thinking of the 365 days that had passed
I wondered what I had done different from this birthday since the last.

This was supposed to have been my year to improve on my gurmat
To walk further on the guru’s path…but have I progressed at all?

I started thinking back on all the promises I made
Did I mean it when I said it, or was it all a charade?

This was my year to read more baani and reflect in veechar
Not rush through my nitnem while driving in my car

To wake up early in simran and keep my discipline tight
Not make excuses the next morning, because I stayed up all night

This was my year to change my perception
To change the lens in which I viewed the world
To see Waheguru in others
To practice compassion
To practice forgiveness
To stand arm in arm with those who are oppressed

Ferguson, Baltimore
This year was my year to protest in the streets
But I just keep fighting the fight with likes and retweets
Is this the Sikh that I’ve become?

Our shaheeds gave their tomorrow for my today
And all I’m doing is letting it just slip away?

No, I signed up for something more
I have a duty to the Guru Granth and the Guru Panth
And if I truly love my guru…and if I really do care
Then I have to put my effort forward and earn this uniform that I wear.

So what’s it going to be?
Another year of empty promises
Of talking about the struggle over half-caff lattes with friends
Or I’ll try harder this year
Or at least I’m being honest about my weaknesses
Or if only I had the gurus grace…

But what grace am I waiting for?
He’s given me the shabad
He’s given me sangat
He’s given me the ability to think, reason, and act
I keep coming up with excuses but I’m ignoring the fact

He’s given me everything to set myself free
There’s no one else to blame…it’s now up to me

So help me up my sister, help me up my brother
It’s now time to stand tall and put one foot in front of the other
Slipping away, it’s all just slipping away
But I’m here to answer your call my guru
And I’m starting today


Where I’m From [Spoken Word]

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So where are you from?
I’m from here
No I mean where are you “from”?
I’ve lived here my whole life.
No, tell me where you’re really from?
Oh where I’m really from…let me tell youI come from Anandpur Sahib, the city of bliss
If I don’t expound on my history I would be remiss

I come from the land of five rivers, where my masters walked
From a prison of caste slavery that my guru unlocked

I come from the buta of blood-soaked seeds
With soiled tilled by the hands of our shaheeds

I come from where simran and seva intertwine
Serving those in need with my mind on the Divine

I come from where Deg and Tegh connect
Where justice and service is the code we protect

I come from where Miri and Piri mix
Because being political and spiritual is not a problem for Sikhs

I come from where life and death collide
Where we kill the five vices to let the bani reside

I come from a serene and spiritual source
But if you compromise our rights, we’ll come at you full force

I come from where the saint and soldier meet
We are the warrior’s elite
Never fall to defeat
Our jakara so loud, our enemies have to retreat
Fueled only by the shabad, because my Guru’s complete

I come from the people who gave their lives for the qaum
Playing the game of love with their head on their palm

My collective history stretches wide and far
The story of a thousand shaheeds in each lard of my dastaar

Where I come from may be hard to comprehend
But a Sikh is not one who just goes along with the trend

I come from the school that Guru Nanak built
And he taught us to be god-connected-humanity-loving-injustice-fighting-students

So that is where I’m from and I’m a Sikh as you can see
And if you’re ever in need of help…you can always count on me

Photo Credit:  Taren Bilkhu