This kind and wise, mystery person just wrote this on my YouTube…

and it’s written so well with such clarity. I don’t know who this person is but I thank them for making me feel such relief. Because I’m so weary of the game.

Yes, I am currently writing the memoir, “Be Here Then.” I’m about 1/3 done…

but it’s a lot to go step by step through every memory so graphically – reliving them all -so I can write it into something readable. It’s sad and stirs up the old feelings….plus I do get tired of most everyone’s interest in me – really being only about their interest in him…maybe I get resentful. But I tell myself it’s not their fault, I would probably be the same way. He does have a way about him (well, at least he used to) …and I go through days and weeks saying to myself, “Why did I have to get mixed up in this…why couldn’t it have been something or someone else…how could I do this…become a discarded manager, cook, bell player back up singer…when I know that I am more…I know that I am- it’s just a weird mess…

but then, if I’m honest – I realize it’s probably the best thing that could have happened to someone like me. Raised in a cult, abused as a child, not allowed to go to college (the cult wouldn’t permit it)

All I had was my devotion to Kali because I had discovered her on my own in a dream -as a way to not fear my own darkness- because I did. I was terrified of myself. If sounds crazy but I was on a serious path of self destruction once I realized God didn’t “love me because my heart wasn’t pure” or rather I “didn’t love the God that planned on killing everyone who wasn’t in the cult….so once I found my own God miraculously I was reborn. For years I searched and when I met BD it was the perfect toxic, yet enchanting combination. Me and him. He embodied all the Kali I needed- and mostly I didn’t -because his “version” of Kali was demonic and mine wasn’t. So we went to war. I won – and so I stayed to convert him so I could get behind him- (in his shadow as he would say- but apparently his shadow was mine too) and he could continue to inspire people like only he could do. I lost my inspiration but never my love. I have wounds that I don’t think will heal, but I do my best. My love still isn’t lost – it’s just swarming….all around me.

Protecting me mostly – but stinging me sometimes with its brutal light. I guess that’s how I see the love I feel. I guess that’s who I was as well. BD cannot stop me from loving him. I will not only love him to death but beyond that – beyond the betrayal and disgrace. All the stupid lies…

He never dreamed – but while we were together he had 2 dreams and they were very vivid and life like I was told. In one dream he was introducing me to Neem Karoli Baba and it was a bliss filled dream in which I became NKB’s daughter (because BD was his “son” in Hindu culture due to the ritual they performed at the kumbh mela.) In another dream he was worshipping me as a holy child upon a throne when a waspy woman from underneath reached up from the darkness – grabbed his wrist and loudly hissed , “Don’t forget about me!” He was terrified and said his wrist was burning when he woke up. That dream upset him – he even brought it up years later…he would say, “I just want to worship you…I don’t want to be with her.”

Over four years ago he started acting out and would not stop- so from Guatemala I went to India – and upon leaving I said, “Deal with your darkness, I’ll be back.” But he didn’t. (And I had meant what I said- I had a long talk with him the night before I left)

Instead he started partying and searching for women …who could replace me. And now, here we are trying to wake up from that bad dream. I want to wake up. I want to be the golden light, like how I saw Kali before she showed me her dark side that this world seems to love so much. And I don’t think Kali is some sexy, black bitch goddess. I think she is the sky – and the sky changes. But not really. The sky is like love, always there. NKB told BD – “you will leave me but I will never leave you.” And it’s funny, because that’s how I feel too. It’s hard to watch someone you love hurt themselves and hurt you- and especially when it hurts others and makes people feel deceived, disoriented, discouraged- I get it. It takes a horrible courage. And I’m still here.

This comment is from my YouTube channel -that I appreciate so much- this kind and wise – mystery person, I thank you.

love, Sharada Devi

I think a lot of people who participate in the “spirituality” sphere seem to think being spiritual means being “positive” and “loving” all the time, but they often completely miss the mark. Truly being spiritual, positive, loving (whatever you name it) isn’t being a passive push over who remains unaffected by pain/sorrow/guilt/shame/darkness/etc. It means always striving for authenticity. Turning the other cheek doesn’t mean allow oneself to be walked all over and abused. Sometimes love is fierce. Sometimes love says no. Sometimes compassion is telling someone they are fucking up; telling yourself you’re fucking up. It’s not burying your anger/fear/sorrow and pretending to be “positive”. It’s allowing what IS to BE, so it can come to the surface and heal. You did what you had to do for yourself, and for Kermit (I think he’s had enough God complex stroking), it’s unfortunate that he didn’t use your split as a catalyst to dive deep and look at his own pit of despair and wake of destruction (we all have one). Sometimes the right thing to do is the thing that will hurt the most. The hurt is good. It’s possibly the only times in our life that are truly authentic. Until we face our demons they will continue to haunt us and those we interact with. Personally I made a decision to throw out most of my “spiritual” paraphernalia a couple years ago because I saw through the facade. It was all a lie. Those beads didn’t bring me peace. I wasn’t utilizing the teachings in those books. I was pacifying myself with a warm blanket of “spirituality”. My anger still persisted, and every single look in the mirror was met with shame. I wasn’t being true. I had to let it all go and start over. I’m still flawed. I still have inner pain that needs to be worked out, but at least I’m not hiding anymore. At least actively 😂. I appreciate you. I think the people who are shitty to you are just Bhagavan fanboys who use him as an idol, as their own security blanket, and if their beloved “holy man” is so unholy then their illusions begin to fade, and they just can’t have that. I also think a lot of these people are so out of touch with true love that they simply don’t understand what you’re doing. They don’t realize you are acting out of love rather than a place of malice. That’s the thing with these people: they push away everything bad and icky because they don’t understand love. They don’t understand that love is without condition. They fear being authentic because they think they’ll be rejected the same exact way they reject all the ugly in their life. It’s sad. I still have a tremendous amount of love for Bhagavan Das. Without him Richard Alpert never would have met Maharaji, and I very well may never have been introduced to Hindu philosophy. So many cultural phenomena balance on upon that point in time. I think you said it on your blog, but they really are still all living in the 60s. They’re still chasing the high of Maharaji. It’s like they never heard the words he spoke. They’re still searching for an external guru, search for their next hit like drug addicts. I saw a recent video of Krishna Das and Rhagu in India with some “guru” (much younger than them) touching his feet and fawning over him. They looked like the same lost, scared, sad children that ran off to India some 60 years ago. What happened to be here now? Anyway, I’m done now. Blessings to you in this new year. I’m looking forward to reading the book you’re talking about writing. I’ve always wanted some real insight into the underbelly of the Bhagavan Das/Ram Dad’s/Neem Karoli Baba cult (respectfully. Not using cult as a pejorative) With love.

Mount Shasta Retreat with Sharada Devi 7/27-8/02, 2022

We are returning to Mount Shasta this summer! This retreat will be unlike any other. Make the pilgrimage to this holy mountain where you are free to be both the wild yogi and the howling goddess.

There will be meditation, fire ceremony, dancing, singing and yoga. There will be sharing from the heart, art and creative writing. There will be love and support and inspiring transformational awakenings…and still there will be more unexpected mystical magic!

You will not want to miss this opportunity to make new friends and reunite with friends from before. It’s always such a fun, easy going and purifying experience out in the sacred forest with amazing views of the divine mountain. Swim in the lake or sit by the river. Take a walk through the wild flowers or stare at the stars…rejuvenate your soul and ignite your spirit. Remember the Mother Light!

$648 for 6 nights and 7 days.

*organic Ayurvedic mono meals and basic accommodations provided.

*choice of accommodations can be dorm style or you can bring your own tent and camp – (it’s in a national forest)

*bring an instrument that you can play.

$108 non-refundable deposit to reserve space.

balance due by 7/10/22. (also non-refundable but can be applied to future retreats)

*send email to – motherlight108@gmail.com for questions and to sign up.

left for free


to radhe, (the reason why is)

ever since I left the casket of his wife

people stopped reading my blog.

thousands of entries and

millions of tears later…

you write about these dresses

from a body long ago.

nobody wants to know what it’s like

to be buried by someone else’s life.

I am for free, I cannot charge,

because nobody wants to pay,

like I did – or even a dollar.

to me, who gave it all.

my self, my body, my soul.

I float, and I hear

what you are all thinking.

deep in heads, the sky particle.

needles, flesh, fear.

my words were there, listen.

however much you try

to escape, you won’t.

not until you’ve left the man.

the man, who uses, abuses

and we ignore the lies…

put your mask back on,

sacrifice your body.

pretend…keep pretending.

remember the lights…

in the basket woven of twigs…

that basket was woven of me…

the dresses were filled with the wind.

is that why you loved,

that picture, because

in that flash nothing had to be real,

just a whisper. a light not yet captured…

but it was.

the light that escaped the crowds

of the people who already left,

they belong to him, not me.

I am empty, not seen.

because it is impossible to stop

the flash and hold it…

and that’s what I don’t yet understand

about myself.

love. sharada devi

Tapas – it doesn’t matter if you’re cold already

It doesn’t matter if you’re cold already 

What matters is that you understand the urgency of the situation.

Every day we wake up, born again but alas, still blurry…still doing what we are programmed and commanded to do- by our families, jobs, conditionings, karma…endless ways we stay in the comfortable prison box.

But I say get up. In the dark early morning – and face the shock that ultimately is inescapable anyway- face it. Die by your own hand. And do it daily.

Face the ice water bath. Get fear out of the way. Command yourself. Reprogram your nervous system.

Personally, I sit submerged under the ice water and do tummo meditation- it’s how the (real) yogis – dissolve the ice around them in the Himalayas – by becoming the flame. I do it because I’m obsessed with death and I’ve been traumatized repeatedly in my life – nothing works like the nonverbal messages we send out subconscious mind- nothing works like getting down to the bare bones of the problem.

We all face the same problem. We forget our power to burn through the lie. The truth lives within us as a flame.

This flame burns in your cauldron. You have to give it a reason to burn more brightly.

It’s you. No one else can do it.

I’ll offer you simple things. Like courage and reminders – of who you really are. 

An an inextinguishable flame in a world of (false) warm and comfortable darkness. 

But it’s going to take some (real) tapas to shine like that. Sharada Devi

Pac-Man sucks


Do you understand how important it is to learn how to die? 

After you accomplish that, you enter the in-between where everything churns and if all goes well, you’re born again. 

In the big picture that’s the birth and death of the body.

In the immediate picture you need to learn how to do it in life.

This ranges from second to second – to year to year- to chapter after chapter.

Your life should become an interesting, poetic and beautiful book that would inspire anyone who read it to also transform themselves.

Use the past to make now work. Let go of the past that drains you and keeps you entrenched in its habits.

It’s an art to die. It’s the exact same as creating – but in reverse.

So everyone must be an artist in their life, sifting through the past for valuable remnants – and burning the useless for more fuel – for the fire of life-

death must come first in all its fiery anguish. Fear is the battle. The fear has deep and deceptive roots.

This is a game, just like Pac-Man. Don’t stay at the beginning only eating the apple and getting caught.

No, get to the banana and fuck all those little wicked monster ghosts who used to catch us in corners and suffocate us – for their demon food. 

No, empty that screen of its dots, it’s demons and it’s it’s fruits. 

Win this. Because Pac-Man sucks. 

Sharada Devi 

May my love be yours ❤️

This is a video of me and Bhagavan Das talking about the twilight…it’s on YouTube also. Putting all the videos we made out to the public again. It wasn’t all for nothing. It never is. Time will tell us where we are and only in facing that reality will time set us free from this illusion. The illusion and the clinging hurt us. To lose one’s identity is a huge calling but the time will come when the final crutch must be kicked away. Nothing is in our hands but faith. Faith in yourself and the one you lost who is also yourself. Love has a way of erasing and filling all at the same time. I hope I can fill my own empty shoes one day. Until then, may my ❤️ be yours.

☀️Sharada Devi

this is real

I stay inside because I don’t like to be reminded 

that everyone but me has somewhere to go. 

I listened to this audiobook about  “running with the wolves.”

What wolves? 

In a world that feels so far away from me I’m left like a word that didn’t belong in the sentence.

Recently I was betrayed. It felt like being in the electric chair for a crime I didn’t commit.

I know many feel they have answers and guidance to give. I only see boxes with people inside. 

And so I talk around the thing. The thing itself is a dragon with too many heads to defeat. 

I know this and yet I’ve been planning my ambush for years, like an indoor cat

who only has that little window to watch through. 

This is not funny. 

So l listened to another audiobook the “tao te ching.”

Nope. That didn’t work.

Then, “the body keeps the score.”

Oh, that hit home and made me start looking for the wolves. But alas,

It’s just me. Here. So little, so flammable.

I just need a spark. 

And so that’s what I do. I rub things together in my head hoping to start the big fire. 

But in this world of fumes and tight, fire proof clothing. It doesn’t matter,

how many times I’m lied to. 

Because one day I will have to ride the beast anyway. And open the curtain in yet another empty room. Where voices, once again – are heard and not seen. Where the distant howl pulls me and yet there’s no road. Where these “feelings” are splattered everywhere like roadkill I can no longer distinguish.

I will be blamed for these deaths – and it will probably be true. 

However, imo,

I was not given a choice. 

I’m not going to panic over blood.

Please don’t new age quote at me or send me a picture of a dead guy from India right now.

This is real.

Sharada Devi 

…really in my F’ing way.

I ask myself  

Do I really want to get this ball rolling?

Then I sit and stare at the wall. 

I’ve been known to stare at the wall for days. No joke. I won’t even change my clothes. There’s no mirror to show me who I am. There is nothing. There’s just me, the ball and these walls.

It’s just so much to ask. 

Maybe I should look in the mirror.

That fucking ball. Makes me tired just knowing it’s there.

How did I become this person. I suppose there’s no self, whatever they say – why not? I’m willing to give believing it a shot. It hasn’t worked yet.  I really believe that I’m nobody, which keeps the ball asking…”move me, won’t you move me?”

God, daily, it’s all just too much. Nothing doing something – SOMEHOW. ALL THE TIME.

I have two really stupid dogs I’m supposed to love. I can take cute pictures of them – I can edit. But it’s just me showing you what I want you to see. 

The truth is, they fight over the same worn out pink bunny all day, every day. They bark like idiots. And they beg for food that they know they’re not going to get. They both have their balls that they covet but are too dumb to play a game of fetch with. It’s painful. They clutch these little rubber balls in their mouths and sit there fixated- staring at each other’s ball for hours. They won’t exercise. One time I drug them around by their leashes with my electric bike. Omg. That was bad.

Then there’s Jingle Bells who sits in the tower watching it all – It’s rare that my cat gives a fuck – but when she does, those shadows better watch out. 

And this is it for me. And I shut them out. And when I’m supposed to be meditating, I start writing with no purpose in sight.

Does God really have a “plan” for me?

It’s hard to believe, but like I said, I’m willing to give it a shot.

But my mind. And the ball. And the walls that I watch like they’ll move if I’m still – are REALLY in my F’ing way.

Omg.

Sharada Devi 

BE HERE THEN

I’m writing a book about my 24/7 twelve year marriage to Bhagavan Das.  

The memories are contained in me like how the icloud holds my poetry. In a huge ball in the sky I am imagining.

I need to free up some psychic space and tell a story that nobody on earth can tell but me. There is nobody who knows BD like I do. I literally hold his memories in my own mind. I know all his stories. Even now, wherever he is, he is always with me. Not the personality that pretends I no longer exist but the bigger thing I feel between us that neither of us can destroy. 

There have been a lot of movies he’s been in. There have been interviews. But he gave them BD,  not himself. He put on the show, it was an act. Nobody cared about the person, he didn’t even have one at a certain point. Deep inside he always feared everyone would find out the real truth about how insecure he really was and “not come to see him anymore.”  

All I’m saying is when I left him- I told the truth about why – and a lot of people didn’t like it and didn’t understand my behavior. It did disturb me – all the attempts to censor me, seeing the true colors of people I had known for years – and so I went away for a few years. But I have changed since then – and I just don’t care anymore about people and their opinions- like AT ALL anymore. I have nothing to lose by being myself whether others agree or not – because they obviously don’t know me – and they therefore don’t matter. I did not “destroy” his career. I stopped him from doing more harm to himself and others, especially women. Is it my job, in a way yes it was. In a way, no it isn’t. 

Nobody knows what I know. I think it’s ridiculous that people act like some sort of connection to him immediately bestows powers upon them. I was given every transmission possible by BD. He gave me everything he had (both good and bad)  It was very real and it came with a price, which I paid. He always said he was so relieved that he met me before he died because he had felt everyone he had ever known in America was a groupie except for me. I’m just telling you what he said. He would cry like a little child and tell me I was his “only friend in the whole world.” 

More than once I said to him, “God, you guys are all stuck in 1967 talking about “Be Here Now.” Don’t you think we should instead call it “Be Here Then?”

He laughed every time. 

(He always said, “if I don’t laugh, I’ll cry.”)

I really know now what he meant by that. 
Sharada Devi

Oh my God, it’s me


It’s your warped god, own it. 

THINK FOR YOURSELF.

LEARN FOR YOURSELF.

KNOW FOR YOURSELF.

Because, 

at some point in your quest for spiritually and politically correct perfection you’re going to have to say FUCK IT.

Otherwise implosion is immenent, who were you fooling anyway? 

If you knew what was really going on (or went on) behind the scenes of all these holy people you’re pumping and striving to become your intact ideas about life and where you might be headed would become a virtual wasteland. 

Sometimes, the fucking truth is too fucking much, but too bad. Own it, pump your SELF. FIND IT. Learn how to be your own spiritual quote, not somebody else’s.

It’s not written in stone. It changes. There is NO MAP but for the fire inside you. 

If they can they’ll get you in a corner and they’ll poke you, they’ll dissect you, they’ll course correct you, they’ll “pray” for you because of how much not like them you are.

Will you falter? My mantra is FUCK IT. Because you aren’t me. You weren’t married to Bhagavan Das for 12 years. You weren’t with him 24/7 like I was and you didn’t have the REAL truth about the delusions you’re living smeared in your face – about “holier” people than you. People who know the way BETTER than you. And I don’t mean just him, I mean EVERY single one I met. It was shocking – and the exact opposite of the enlightenment I was seeking from them. But I did see and now I do know. 

Am I “angry” ?? Oh my, god forbid I be fucking OVER IT. Role playing, charades, parades, screen faces. Stop adjusting, it’s useless. 

(No, I’m not angry. That wore off a long time ago.)

I found out I am on my own. I found out what “ignorance is bliss” really means.  And I want to say, God made you NOT TO BE LED BY SOMEBODY YOU IMAGINE TO BE BETTER THAN YOU- so that you quote them, stare at their dead picture, act like you are SO POSITIVE any of those stories actually even happened.  I used to tell BD “all you guys do is talk about 1967-1971 while preaching “be here now, be here now” don’t you think “be here then” would be better? It’s a joke, a scam. A career angle. I WAS THERE AND I KNOW THINGS THAT I CANT DENY.

Look at the facts, find them out for yourself rather than being too afraid of how bright the light can actually be.

I’m so used to people saying “who do you think you are?” Well I would like to ask you,

“Who do you think you are?” Do you even know? Has push come to shove yet? Did you find out that God is not 100% bright namaste’s?”

God isn’t anything but a gradient of awareness and acceptance. It’s not a contest or an exam of who walks the straightest line with the biggest stick stuck up their ass.

You might not believe me now. But when you’re lucky you’ll find out and you’ll be let out and you’ll be overwhelmed by the possibility that everything you were so sure of might just be wrong. It was just thoughts, fantasies, rules and regulations. Then, you’ll begin to see 

“oh my God, it’s me. “

Sharada Devi 

yes I am writing that book, “Be Here Then.”
stay tuned…