Finding Maa in the Ugly: A Musical Reflection on Nonduality

As I was doing my daily morning chores, I decided to put on my favorite playlist of songs, which includes an eclectic mix from all sorts of genres around the world. On this day, I stepped into the cat litter room, armed with my sturdy metal scoop from Menards (it's a Midwest thing), and proceeded with the ritual cleaning. While in the midst of this rather unpleasant task, a bhajan (devotional song) came up on my playlist singing praises to Maa in a steady, repetitive rhythm, to which I happily began singing along while continuing my task. Today, it was the Kali Gayatri. Then it struck me: I shouldn’t be singing or listening to these divine praises in the middle of cleaning out a dirty litter box! This is incorrect, this is wrong. I felt a sense of shame as though I had insulted someone with my poor sense of decorum, like wearing muddy shoes on someone’s favorite rug. I hastily put down my metal scoop and proceeded to grab my phone to shut off the sound when I had a sudden realization. Why shouldn’t I sing praises to Maa in this space?

I’ve experienced devotional music in many spaces and forms, ranging from listening to a choir in a pristine French cathedral to a sama worship by whirling Dervishes in a cave in central Turkey. In most, if not all, instances, I was in a clean environment, surrounded by plenty of spiritual iconography. There were processes in place to ensure cleanliness (e.g. removal of shoes, marked seating, attire restrictions, no visible trash, food restrictions, etc). We often associate places of worship with a sense of cleanliness and ritual purity. In doing so, we end up implicitly linking the Divine to the notion of purity, separating it from what we deem as “filthy” like excrement, decaying matter, or other typically “ugly” things. While this may fit well into a dual relationship with the Divine and have ritual significance, from a standpoint of nonduality, this association of the Divine as separated from the “ugly” makes little sense.

Maa is everywhere and everything. Maa is the pristine cathedral and the soiled litter box. To truly love Maa, we must learn to love what we perceive as ugly. Personally, I found music to be an effective bridge for me to begin closing this sense of separation between the Divine and the ugly. Music can create a sort of “timestamp” in one’s mind, linking physical experiences to a melody so that when this melody is heard again, we are reminded of a moment in time along with all the sensations. Indeed, many studies have been conducted on the positive impacts of music on memory, especially in relation to preventing or improving the conditions of Alzheimer's disease and dementia. In some ways, listening and/or singing praises to Maa in the midst of the ugly reminds me of the Aghori Sadhus who meditate on the cremation burial grounds in India, actively dismantling cultural norms and notions of purity instilled from a very young age. The point is that when these norms are dismantled, true nonduality can be realized. This is especially important when it becomes a barrier to Divine connection, as if I am not allowed to experience Her in these spaces or I am inherently unworthy of this experience, recalling internalized shame. The practice of joining devotional music to the ugly moments in life will result in a long journey of unlearning and relearning. It is a meditation that I hope will help me close the chasm between the Divine and me that had been instilled since childhood. If I can see Her everywhere, I can also see Her in myself.

I encourage you to try this. Next time you find yourself facing an unpleasant task, listen to or sing devotional music, not to seek aid from the Divine to end the unpleasantness, but to truly appreciate the Divine in the unpleasantness.