Orange County Human Relations Award

The Orange County Human Relations provides programs to eliminate prejudice, intolerance and discrimination. Each year they recognize and honor outstanding people in our schools, communities or police departments for their exemplary contributions to human relations in Orange County. This year, one of the award recipients will be Sukh Chugh from Be the Cause.

More on all the Award Recipients receiving awards at the ceremony on May 7, 2009:
http://egov.ocgov.com/ocgov/Info%20OC/Departments%20&%20Agencies/OC%20Human%20Relations/Human%20Relations%20Awards/Awards%2038%20Recipients/Awards%2038%20Recipients

Of course its an honor to be selected as a recipient of this award. But, more so than it highlighting the efforts of one person, I believe that the award really highlights the efforts of the entire Be the Cause community. The volunteers that participate in our many projects quietly and at many times without recognition slowly shape the well-being of our community. It is easy to pin my face as the poster child of these efforts because maybe I helped start it all, but in reality, these days, its the silent and yet dedicated force of all the countless volunteers that makes the benefit to the community really happen.

The Orange County Human Relations has been doing amazing work for decades to bring people together. To be recognized as part of their heritage is a true honor.

San Diego

It was only two days, but it felt like everyone I met was family.

We went straight to the temple where I was supposed to talk for an hour and a half on the merits of serving others. Somehow the words found their way from this neo-cortex, through the microphone, through gas and dust, onto ears and into hearts. I shared stories about the beginnings of Be the Cause. I told them my own story which somehow was also their story. We were all searching for something deeper in our lives and somehow we were all led to this same moment. I shared with them the stories I had heard, of a universe so vast that it was incredible and yet its magnificence didn’t trump the size of our own tiny little hearts.

In moments I could feel myself tearing up as I remembered the story of a little homeless boy we met one night in India. At times when I looked up, I found that my tears were somehow falling off the face of someone else. At times we all laughed simply because the words that were coming out seemed so ridiculous.

A few aunties took copious notes, but I knew that what I was saying was already known to them, and more importantly was already written in their hearts: That all we need is the courage to give, and in that moment the entire universe opens up for us.

Afterwards they asked questions. About my life. About how certain projects came together. Someone asked about finances, someone always does. Someone asked about happiness, and yes I admitted, it can be cultivated.

She came up to me afterwards stating that for a moment she felt she wasn’t alone. She cried for a moment standing there with me, I felt it too, that kinship, that togetherness, that love in the room. It made me a little strong and a little weak at the same time standing there in that temple. A little honored and also a little unworthy to be receiving such emotion.

A few of my new friends wanted to sit in silence so that we could end the afternoon the same way we started it. Fifteen minutes rolled by and it seemed as if more was shared in those silent moments than in the hours prior.

Later that night, when a few of my new friends decided to drop by after dinner, I would discover that they were serving much more than they had led me to believe. We discussed ongoing projects and brainstormed new ways of getting people engaged. We planned for the next day, where a repeat performance was requested for a younger audience.

The next day, I sat in front of kids and adults alike. The stories and the accompanying jokes seemed to work a second time around. Even the QnA felt similar, except this time the questions were more personal. I realized that every family is the same, they are all concerned about my marital status. Being single has allowed me some freedom, sure, but sharing stories of my married couple friends that do more together than separate quickly brought the point home: wherever you are, however you are, you can serve.

The drive home was rejuvenating. I felt as if I was leaving home to return home. Thank you San Diego. If anyone is interested in connecting with the Jain Community of San Diego please send me an email.

When Love Fails

When love fails.

She was young. About 20 years old. A face so beautiful it could make you cry, it made me cry. But it was more than her looks, it was the way she carried herself, the way she smiled, the way she walked and the way she carried the cigarette on her lips. Everything about her said that ‘everything was okay’, that even as threatening men loomed over her, still ‘life was good’.

She was sitting there, outside the outtake building of the Santa Ana jail. How could something so beautiful come from such an un-beautiful place. Just seeing her brought out happiness in me, I had to know her story. I asked her how long she had been inside, she said ‘one week’. I asked her why she had been inside, without hesitation she said ‘prostitution’.

That feeling, when you know you haven’t been punched in the stomach, but almost wished you had, slips over me. The brief moment of extrovertedness falls off of me. I stood there speechless, and all of a sudden she became my sister. Hiding my emotion I slowly re-engage in conversation. She tells me of hotel rooms and craigs list web postings. In that moment I could give her anything she asks for, all she needs is my cell phone to make a call.

She needs cigarettes and wants to avoid the mix of “do-gooders” and “evil-doers” by the ‘Lights On‘ RV. I boyishly ask if its okay to walk with her towards the 7-11. She lets me.

She walks fast, too fast. I have so much to say but time isn’t on my side. Eventually the 7-11 will meet us, it will get in our way. Eventually this night will end. Eventually she will go back to where she came from, and I too will return.

I ask how it all began. I fell in love, she says. Proud of the sacrifices she has made for love, as if the sacrifice makes her in some way pure. The sadness in her eyes isn’t from the life she’s lived, but from the fact that she won’t see her lover for the next 3 months. It is a look of longing.

For the next 3 months he’ll be in jail. Society calls him by other names, but right now he is only “love”. She’s sad, that when the police found her in the hotel room, she wasn’t able to convince them that the man lurking outside wasn’t her ‘manager’. She’s sad, that he has to spend 3 months in jail, and that she has to spend 3 months without him. Love.

She says that people don’t understand. That love can make you do things you wouldn’t normally do. People on countless occasions have interjected that he doesn’t love her because he asks her to sleep with other men. Yet, she continues to have faith.

I also try to interject as much as I can in the short time I have. Speedily we walk, speedily I talk. Usually I talk about Love, this time Love has failed me. I speak about life and about journeys… and about failure. In life there is no training manual. None of us really know what we are supposed to be doing here. But we can somehow make the journey at least worthwhile. And maybe the one thing that can get in our way of living life to the fullest, is our own selves. Maybe sometimes we need to determine which of our emotions lead us to a path of greater good and which lead us to greater harm. … and just maybe we actually need to leave some emotions behind.

Sometimes its not about love, I tell her. Sometimes, it is about what is ‘right’. I recollect stories of when I have failed Love and when Love has failed me. When I have done wrong to those I have loved and when those that have loved me, have done me wrong.

She asks me if I have ever cheated on someone I loved. I say ‘yes’. She asks if I have ever hit someone I loved. I say ’sort-of’. She tells me that her ‘love’ was the first guy who had ever hit her.

I tell her that maybe he does love her and that maybe she loves him, but that sometimes you have to put all that aside and still do what is best. That maybe sacrificing Love is a greater sacrifice. (Maybe it would be good for him too.) I try to convince her that she has a great life and a greater one ahead if she can navigate through the swamp of thoughts and emotions that we all live in.

I vow not to walk her all the way to the 7-11, as a way of sacrificing my own love. I stop short seconds before the 7-11 and turn towards her. I wrap my arms around her and then let go. Walking back, emotions of sadness and anger grip me. I cry and scream at the same time. Hold my head and grip my fists at the same time.

“Love fails only when we fail to love” - J. Franklin.

33

What kind of place is this my friends?

The sun rises only to set. We are born only to depart one day. Fortunes, generations, entire cultures, even life itself comes and goes. Is there anything that stays behind?

33 give their lives to unmask the anger of one boy. The boy becomes a man. His life, arising only to pass. Only to take away. Anger remains.

Tears flow through the country. Making us feel. Something within us comes alive. It gives rise to a new reality, a new compassion takes form. Our hearts race, reach out, and sometimes, tears actually leak from our eyes. In our despair we actually begin to feel what it is to be human.

What kind of a place is this?

Tragedies come and go, lives lost forever, yet the rest of us still find ground beneath our feet. One way or another, life moves on. The sun rises again.

Two teenagers pull guns out of duffel bags and destroy entire livelihoods. That was 1999. Twin Towers explode. A tidal wave consumes entire cities. A hurricane touches down to teach us that we are not invincible. And yet, here we are, invincible. A war destroys an entire country, mothers cry out. Leaders, steadfast in their charge, say that lives are not lost in vain, yet we do it again… and again, and again. That was Vietnam.

What kind of a place is this?

The sun sets. Sends us into darkness, only to beckon us again with the chirping of birds. It gives us rise only to set us down again. A pattern emerges. Light and Dark, joy and pain, exhilaration and disappointment, Love and sacrifice all tied together.

We chastise those who grasp at more than is needed, secretly wishing that our own reach was vaster than theirs. Lovers betray one another. The secrets that we harbor in our minds would betray everyone we know.

We send our children, our own flesh and blood, to teachers whose salaries we would never accept for ourselves.

What kind of people are we?

What kind of a person am I?

Trapped between trying to build a new life and submitting to my past’s patterns. Childhood memories still shape the decisions of my life. Unable to control all of my thoughts I see the direction of my life shaping itself. Was my destiny shaped with my birth?

Seeing suffering everywhere and still I am consumed by my own discomforts. I still find it necessary to smile, to laugh, and to enjoy despite all the chaos that intrudes this planet. I celebrate birthdays, promotions, and even unexpected (and unwarranted) moments of joy, despite not knowing what this entire experience is all about.

A soldier asks why 3000 lives weren’t honored like the 33. An Iraqi woman asks the same about 100,000. And me, I’m just trapped thinking about why someone lied to me.

But it does all arise to pass. And in doing so, hopefully there is hope, that it teaches us something. That it refines us somehow, makes us better at who we are, and at what we are supposed to be doing in this diminishing existence. Time passes by, we get older, nearer to the days when we can no longer remember. The moment is now. To rise up, embrace the sun, the warmth, the birds, and the calling for a new day. The sun sets, only to call for us again the next morning.

Cotton Balls - my experience in Houston

Hello All,
I just returned from a 5 day trip to Houston. Below is a summary of events I sent to the folks there. I thought I would share with everyone so that we can see that wonderful people exist everywhere. Everyone I met, through some connection with Maushmi, made me realize how lucky we are to have each other.
Sukh

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Love exists everywhere. You can find it in the plane seat next to you, in cotton balls that lie scattered across the floor, and in strings of pasta that unexpectedly find their way to your plate.

It was extraordinary. Who would have thought that I would find newfound determination in the heart of Texas. People make their way across many oceans to find themselves. Some walk for days in search of truth. My pilgrimage takes me to Texas. To an Italian Restaurant where the noise of our neighbors doesn’t disturb the silence in our hearts.

Words are never enough, so with folded hands I bow.

Wednesday night. As soon as I arrived I was handed a set of keys. One of them was to a home, another to a car, and yet they all unlocked something deep within me. Generosity. Afterwards I ate a hand cooked Gujarati meal. If you haven’t tried Maushmi’s Mom’s rice pudding you must insist on a meal at their place!!!

Thursday. Maushmi took me to the Houston Hospice. I saw the rooms where some of the past Compassion Cell Magic had taken place. I breathed the entire place in: the volunteers, the visitors, and the current residents. I felt proud that I was part of an organization that had done some good there. It was an honor to walk through those floors.

I made my way to the Thomas Street AIDS clinic that had been decorated by some volunteers the night before. I breathed in all that they had left behind. I envisioned the volunteers working together to beautify the clinic. I then looked into the eyes of the patients. Their faces broken down by years of pain, stigma and concern. This quote kept running through my mind: “Our happiness is greatest when we contribute to the happiness of others”. Each and every decoration left behind was a sign of hope to a disenfranchised community that is forgotten by so many. I bumped into Jackie, the volunteer coordinator. She gave me the history of the clinic and told me the story of how she lost her son to the disease. My tour naturally ended at the meditation hall. I sat there for 30 minutes thinking of how much goodness had been generated at this clinic the night before.

Although I was full of words at the time, thinking of Thursday evening now leaves me speechless. Goodness flowing in every direction. We questioned ’service’, our own human nature, and the genuinity of our desire to make the world a better place. In that moment, my world became a better place. I went from being a Californian, to a guest, to a family member in a few short minutes. Houston became home.

Friday. I met Margo. As with everyone else, I felt as if I had known her before. We talked about this movement of life that we are all engaged in, and what it means to be a parent in today’s world. I felt like her son.

Saturday. Every week should have a day of fun. … and everyone should have a friend like Katania. She walked in with bags full of things to play with. We spent the entire afternoon making cards, necklaces, drawing, gluing cotton balls, laughing, and most importantly nourishing something within ourselves that we had been neglecting for some time. It was all inspired by this one quote: “Compassion for others begins with kindness to yourself”. A day of being kind to ourselves was exactly what the doctor ordered.

Sunday. We started at the Sikh Temple. After eating lunch we were inspired to serve. We spent the next few hours washing all the pots & pans and sweeping the entire floor. A priest at the temple, in his broken English, shared with us how important service and meditation is. In the evening we checked out the Hare Krishna Temple after sitting in silence for an entire hour.

Monday. Maushmi and I checked out a park and a coffee shop. Who knows? Maybe a Walk for Hope or a Seva Cafe in Houston at some point? As we said goodbye, she handed me a card from some of the volunteers and a certificate that said that a little girl named ‘Priccila’ had received cleft palate surgery in our honor. It seems that our friendships not only enrich our own lives but continue to benefit others as well.

I’m not sure if all good things need to come to an end. I think that all good things continue forward and expand outward. Something deep within me changed this week. I told Maushmi that all I was bringing to Houston was emptiness, hoping to fill myself with goodness that I could share in California. Filled with your goodness, I am grateful for the way you have welcomed me. You all are now officially invited to Southern California to hang out with our family here.

All good things continue forward. Like water that drops to the earth, and returns upward again one day, I hope to return back to my home in Houston some day.

Sukh

Are you family?

Sent out on the Be the Cause newsletter:

It’s that time of the year when we start to get together with our families to give thanks.  There is a lot to be thankful for, undoubtedly, the larger question we face is who do we consider family?  I’m sitting in Seattle visiting my sister-in-law and my 2 ½ year old nephew, and yet I feel related even to the random stranger walking down the street.  Two friends came over today, as they were playing with my nephew one of them said that it felt as if we were all one family.  One family.  (Maybe that’s why I felt no inhibition when I called them five hours before I needed a ride from the airport J ) 

Many talk about charity beginning at home, and how we must take care of our family first, but every single person I meet feels like my family.  If we were to draw the circle of our family as wide as possible, then who would we be willing to neglect?  Is the 2 ½ year old living elsewhere worthy of anything less?  Is he any different?  

I’m fortunate, I have a lot of family.  …and it keeps growing.  One conversation with Nikkie in South Carolina and she immediately becomes my sister.  She’s planning a Food Drive in the Charleston Area.  Maushmi is planning many projects for the holidays in Houston.  Southern California volunteers are planning two projects on Thanksgiving Day. 

The Seva Café volunteers continue to change hearts every week.  This Saturday, another brother, Hip Hop artist Isaac “IZE” Barba will be dropping some music for everyone. 

In the last couple of weeks we revamped our on-line calendar of events and created a 8 minute video on the Walk for Hope.  Some wonder why we work so hard.  I do it for my family.   

Mission Statements

He wanted to know the mission of Be the Cause.  Once again I was stumped.  I looked over at Angela to rescue me.  With a shrug, we both knew that Be the Cause had no mission.  It’s been four and half years and we still haven’t quite figured out what we do.

We fumbled with our response, dropped some buzz-words like “service”, “compassion”, and “grass-roots”, but we knew that our words were not capturing the essence of it.  Ultimately, words will never be enough.  I just hoped that he understood in the way that I shook his hand.  With love.

Outside, both Angela and I felt comfortable in not knowing, and also in knowing that the secret was hidden somewhere in our hearts.  That the mission of Be the Cause was no different than the mission of our lives: to love. For four and half years we have been missionless, directionless, and objectiveless.  Somehow, it still seems to work.I think of the volunteer who stopped slitting her wrists because she found joy in serving others.  I think of Maushmi and her gang of volunteers in Houston as they played the violin for a man who died minutes later.  I think back to last year’s walk for hope as 30 cars were lined up on the side of the road at 4:30AM ready to spend the day serving others.

I think about all the Compassion Cells that Jeska has coordinated.  All the Evenings of Awareness that Michele, Mahsa and Raquel have helped create.  The Service Vacation trips that Bharti and Karuna have worked on.  The Sacred Site visits that Jason helps coordinate.  Where would we be without our website in place through the efforts of Alfred, Anshul, Stacey, Manveer, Baldeep, and Supun.  … and the foundation of Be the Cause itself, laid by folks like Muna, Barbara, Eleanor, Alex, Rebecca, Cheryl, and Shaheda.  The Change of Heart weekend coming together because of Ann.  The handling of our finances by Albert.  All the amazing graphic design work done by Nirali.  Our Google Adwords campaign by Sonali.  The online calendar being kept up-to-date without fail by Gianna and Manuri.  Melisa working on our media press releases.  And previous Walk for Hopes coordinated by many people including Thu-Trang, Ben, Kristeen, Mike, Divya, Harpal, Simoina, Larry, Brenda, Ganesh.  The list goes on and on.  The Evening in India organized by the travelers including Lanie, Carolina, Marcella, Angel, Laura.  Our mail being collected by Srini.  Srikanth and Elizabeth stepping in to take charge of the upcoming Seva Cafe.  … and there’s more. 

Where would we be without Bill and his mother Barbara biking into the Walk for Hope on accident, and immediately becoming life-long friends.  Without Aena, Hamood and her 1 year old son Mikail taking the train all the way from Ventura to spend one evening with us.  Without Thoi who drove all night from the Bay area to spend one day with us, and then drove right back in the evening.  Without Prerna threatening to move us all to Hong Kong to start a chapter there.  Without our friends at Charity Focus, Manav Sadhna, Tias Arms, ARO, Power of Love, LifeNets, and many others.

Somehow without a mission, without any structure, without any incentive plans, without stock options, without work-life balance, without hierarchy, without office spaces overlooking the ocean, without any titles, and without any clues as to where we are heading, somehow it works. 

It all came together last week when a friend left a check for $1000 without being asked.  The next day I called her to Thank her and she just said it was a gift from the universe… to the universe.  Enough said!

I guess Be the Cause is quite simply just that: a gift from the universe.  Our mission: to love.

Sukh

Models of Unity

On Saturday, June 18th, the Baha’is of Aliso Viejo presented Be the Cause with an award for its work on uniting individuals in the common goal of service. It was a most awkward feeling.

I stood with a crystal award in my hand, smiling like a little boy at the podium. Faces stared back at me waiting for a recollection of our four year journey. But that did not happen. Instead, I stated as proudly as I could that none of this had anything to do with us.

The true recipient of this award was neither an organization, nor an individual, but rather a silent emotion that moves us all to action. It is that compassion within us that forces us to create new organizations, inspires us to help others and calls us back to our true nature. Compassion exists in all of us.

So we accepted the award, not only on behalf of Be the Cause volunteers, but also on behalf of everyone in that room, and everyone reading this newsletter. Thank you to all of you for having Compassion in your hearts and to the Baha’is for their continued dedication to make the world a better place.

May you and I truly unite in our love for humanity and in our compassion for each other.

See pictures from the event

Sukh