He Is There

He Is There

After two years my husband and I were again at Brindavan (in March 1982), suddenly choked and breathless as that longed-for flame-colored Form appeared through the gates. Later, Swami said to me: “How are you?” and added, “You are sad!”

How to explain the pain of separation that the Form engenders at my level of consciousness wherein the sense of duality still exists? Perhaps much more so while in India, for one’s thoughts are apt to run on geographical lines. Baba is in Madras… Baba is in Bombay… Baba has come…. Will He look? Will He speak? and so on. It is inevitable that when that Form disappears from view there is the ache of separation, however much one has experienced His omnipresence. As Baba once pointed out to Dr Hislop, “You know Swami to be omnipresent, yet when you return to your hotel in Bangalore you think of Swami as being at Brindavan!”

Whenever there is form there is the pain of parting, for form is maya [illusion]. But our essence, the atma, is encased in form! It must express itself through a physical vehicle. At the same time as we are strivi­ng to rid ourselves of body-consciousness, identification with the form, and to realize the One in the many, we can only learn to love the Formless through the Form, the Unmanifest through the Mani­fest.

So “the Lord has to come in human form, so that He can be listened to, con­tacted, loved, revered, and obeyed. He has to speak the language of men and be­have like human beings, as a member of the species…. The human mind cannot grasp the Absolute, Attribute-less Princi­ple; it is abstract and beyond the reach of speech, mind, and intellect.” (Baba)

This is the devotee’s dilemma. And the limitation and paradox of the human con­dition often takes on ludicrous aspect. Here am I, in private interview, in the Presence of the Formless Absolute mani­festing in this unique Form “invested with the totality of Cosmic Power,” and what am I doing? I am foraging in my handbag in order to lend my spectacles to my husband who needs to read something! The mind boggles.

And then we are speaking of organizational matters, and He sums up a compli­cated situation in just three words which are so comical, so apt, that one wants to burst out laughing! We are talking so informally, so naturally, like ‘Partners’—with God Incarnate.

And then I am speaking to my Dearest Friend, from Whom no secret is hidden.

There is time to ask three or four of the 100 questions I’ve longed to ask for months—and which now got out of my head! As He answers, and explains, there is that divine smile and I am rivetted to those Eyes which are all-seeing, all-knowing, dark pools of Love, sometimes even twin­kling because in that communion He knows that I know that He knows what remains unspoken.

I take the Hand of my Mother and lay my cheek against it. And finally, the Fa­ther lays His Hand on both our heads, saying, “I will bless your efforts … Come back this evening.” And in a moment, He has floated through the curtain.

Once more we are privileged to become electrified by the students’ bhajan sing­ing, grouped around the Feet of their be­loved Lord, singing their hearts out. As the Arathi is nearing the end, with a final smile to treasure He disappears from our mortal sight. Perhaps I shall never see that amazing Form ever again, except when He wills it so, in a dream. For, next morning we are going—leaving Him be­hind, (it would seem) as we fly to Bom­bay, my heart crying out “Oh Swami… Swami…”, and the tears come. The bliss and gratitude for incomparable bles­sing becomes tinged with sadness at the parting from the Form.

But when I got home to England He was there! When I go in my little car to the supermarket He is there. In my kitchen, in my study, He is there. When I feed the hungry wild birds He is there. When I go to sleep and when I wake He is there. I can talk to Him to my heart’s content for He is there, so often pressing down on my crown chakra—the beautiful, ting­ling pressure that for years has indicated to me that “someone was there”.

When I asked Him about it He explained that it was “God contact… God consci­ousness… the Super conscious.” “You mean, Swami, that it has to do with You?” He put His head on one side, smiled with infinite tenderness, and said: “Of course!” 

I feel like an ant at the foot of a moun­tain, seeing only the next stone. Or a bird in a cage. Or a butterfly struggling to emerge from a chrysalis in the rays of the life-giving Sun. But always He is there …

—Peggy Mason, London

Do not aspire to be a servant of God, working for wages; you reduce yourself to that level if you ask for this and that from Him in return for the praise that you offer or the sacrifice you undergo. Even if you do not ask, if the bargain­ing attitude is in your mind, or if you feel disappointed that God did not give you desirable objects in return for all the trouble you took to please Him, do not calculate profit; do not count on returns, do not plan for the consequence; do, since you have to do, since it is your duty. That is real puja. Dedicate the deed as well as the consequence to Him. Then you become His own, not, a cooly (day laborer) demanding wages. That is the highest level a bhakta can reach through sadhana. That is the reason why nishkama karma (desireless action) is so highly extolled in the Gita by Krishna.

—Baba

He Is There – A Gentle Reminder of Divine Presence

He Is There is a simple yet deeply comforting spiritual truth. It reminds us that the Divine is never absent from our lives, even when the mind feels lonely, confused, or tired. Many times, people think God is present only in temples, prayers, holy books, or special moments of worship. But true faith teaches something wider and sweeter: the Divine presence quietly supports every breath, every step, and every sincere effort.

Life does not always move according to our wishes. There are days when prayers seem unanswered, people misunderstand us, and the heart feels heavy. During such moments, faith becomes very important. To believe that He Is There is to trust that we are not walking through life alone. Even when outer situations appear difficult, an unseen hand continues to guide, protect, and strengthen us from within.

This does not mean that problems will suddenly disappear. Spiritual life is not an escape from challenges. Instead, it gives us the courage to face them with patience. When faith becomes strong, we stop asking only, “Why is this happening to me?” and begin asking, “What can I learn from this?” Every difficulty then becomes a lesson, and every delay becomes a chance to grow in surrender.

The message of He Is There also helps us develop inner peace. The restless mind often creates fear by imagining the worst. It worries about tomorrow, regrets yesterday, and forgets the present moment. But when the heart remembers the Divine, the mind slowly becomes calm. We begin to feel that life is not controlled only by human weakness; it is held by a higher wisdom.

God’s presence is not always dramatic. Sometimes it comes as a timely word from someone, a sudden strength during pain, a solution that appears unexpectedly, or a quiet feeling that everything will be alright. Many people realize later that grace was working silently even when they could not see it. What looked like a delay may have been protection. What felt like loss may have opened the way for deeper understanding.

When a devotee says, He Is There, it is not merely a statement of belief. It is a way of living. Such a person tries to act with honesty because the Divine is watching. He tries to speak kindly because every heart carries the same sacred presence. He tries to serve others because helping someone in need is also a form of worship. Faith becomes real only when it improves conduct.

This truth also removes loneliness. A person may be surrounded by people and still feel alone. Sometimes even close relationships cannot fully understand the pain hidden within the heart. But the Divine knows what we cannot explain. God understands tears that never fall, prayers that never become words, and struggles that no one else sees. This awareness gives silent comfort.

He Is There does not mean we should become passive or careless. Faith should never make us lazy. We must do our duty sincerely, make wise choices, and take responsibility for our actions. But after doing our best, we should learn to leave the result in God’s hands. This balance of effort and surrender makes life peaceful.

In spiritual growth, remembrance is very powerful. The more we remember God in small moments, the more sacred life becomes. While working, walking, eating, helping, studying, or resting, we can carry a quiet feeling of divine nearness. This transforms ordinary life into a meaningful journey. We do not need to wait for a perfect place or perfect time to feel close to God.

The Divine is also present in people around us. When we hurt others, ignore their suffering, or speak with cruelty, we forget this truth. But when we treat others with respect, patience, and compassion, we honor the One living in all. A loving heart sees God not only in images and rituals, but also in the hungry, the lonely, the elderly, the child, and the stranger.

Faith matures when it remains steady in both joy and sorrow. It is easy to remember God when blessings are visible. The real test comes when life becomes uncertain. If we can still pray, still do good, still trust, and still remain kind, then faith has entered the heart deeply. Such faith becomes a light that no darkness can fully cover.

He Is There becomes a source of strength for every sincere seeker. It reminds us that no prayer is wasted, no good action is unseen, and no honest struggle is meaningless. The Divine may not always answer in the way we expect, but grace never abandons the heart that calls with love. When this truth settles within us, fear becomes weaker, hope becomes stronger, and life feels guided by a presence that is eternal, compassionate, and near.

Emergence Of Another Pandharpur…