Ganesh

A life without obstacles is akin to a sock without a foot: practical but limp. Just ask Ganesh. The son of Shiva and Parvati, baby Ganapati was beheaded by his own father just for hanging out in the doorway while his mommy took a bath, thus blocking Shiva's entrance to his own home. Clearly, Shiva's reflexive and some might say overbearing response was highly upsetting to Parvati. After all, it had been a difficult labor; Parvati had created her beloved progeny from her own oils, sweat and tears. Subsequently, there was a lot of turbulence in the home. What could Lord Shiva do but replace Ganapati's head with that of an elephant? End of domestic dispute. Beginning of Lord Ganesh, remover and creator of obstacles, lord of intelligence and rider of the musica--the mouse/rat, AKA the subjugated demon of the ego. You gotta admit: the guy triumphed under seemingly impossible odds.

Meantime, when we non-elephant heads perceive obstacles in our path, we feel emotions that run the gamut from aggravation to outrage. We may even begin to compare and despair: why is my path so blocked while Esther's seems so free? She sallies forth with nary a concern, "getting" everything she wants so easily: a gigantic brownstone, a loving spouse, healthy children. The other night, having dinner with Esther and feeling blocked and somewhat jealous, I kept thinking of Gore Vidal's famous quote, "With every success of one of my friends, a small part of me dies." Remove my blocks, Ganesha, I later prayed. Make my path smooth and simple--an easy passage. For god's sake, haven't I suffered enough?

Days later, Esther called me to complain about a situation with her husband. She was doing all the work in their household and thus she felt caught in a trap of her own making. "I wish my life were more like yours," she admitted. "A life where anything can happen." That afternoon, it hit me that we often mistake possibility for obstacles, rather than vice versa. After all, most obstacles exist in our own minds. They are maya--illusion--rather than some dire fate or unjust external reality. "You see?" we cry triumphantly. "You see how blocked I am?" If only we could understand the obstacles as a challenge and thus supplant suffering with problem-solving, even acceptance. After all, without our obstacles we are just a baby in a doorway: unformed, mushy and dependent, neither here nor there. The obstacles make us who we are with all our thorniness, bruises, wisdom and beauty. Our memory like the head of Ganesha, burdensome yet ultimately enlightening. Our karma--action-- like his hatchet, cutting through the bondage of desire and expectation. The calloused foot to fill the sock and take us where we're going.