Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Breathing Buddha
Today, another astonishing experience with Buddha. This time, I meant to spend only a few minutes in moving meditation, but, once again, I was held there by the sweet ecstatic flow of energies. I seemed to literally "breathe" the bliss. I tried self-reiki with exquisite energy flows therefrom. And I performed a few T'ai Chi movements, and found that, once again, the exquisite energies led me through my slow moves.
Once more, I wonder at those who might impose the moves of T'ai Chi or chi gong from without, teachers who insist on "correct form," "masters" who have never felt the bliss. For them, these practices seem to be exercises in conformity, rigid almost militaristic following of some externally imposed discipline. For me, it is naked (literally) bliss. What a delight! What a deep sense of connection with the life force itself.
And, once again, an image came through. This time it was, first, a dark field superimposed on the inner rectangle of the Buddha painting. I could make out only a hooded monk (Eastern), who seemed to be holding a bowl in his hands. (I first thought of this as a begging bowl.) He was standing in profile. Then, he turned and I saw him more clearly--as an ancient figure who was almost bald, his remaining hair drawn back in a pony tail. He reminded me of the drawings of the "mischievous bodhisattvas" which are sometimes depicted. And I realized that the bowl he was presenting to Buddha was his offering, something to be blessed and to bless with in turn.
How amazed I continue to be that this experience goes on unfolding in its own delicate and blissful way, even after twenty-five years. I think such experiences are happening more and more. And I think we should all welcome such evidence of our mutual link with transcendent reality, and share our discoveries with one another, for we are, indeed, participating in a common spiritual revolution.
That is what I think.
Once more, I wonder at those who might impose the moves of T'ai Chi or chi gong from without, teachers who insist on "correct form," "masters" who have never felt the bliss. For them, these practices seem to be exercises in conformity, rigid almost militaristic following of some externally imposed discipline. For me, it is naked (literally) bliss. What a delight! What a deep sense of connection with the life force itself.
And, once again, an image came through. This time it was, first, a dark field superimposed on the inner rectangle of the Buddha painting. I could make out only a hooded monk (Eastern), who seemed to be holding a bowl in his hands. (I first thought of this as a begging bowl.) He was standing in profile. Then, he turned and I saw him more clearly--as an ancient figure who was almost bald, his remaining hair drawn back in a pony tail. He reminded me of the drawings of the "mischievous bodhisattvas" which are sometimes depicted. And I realized that the bowl he was presenting to Buddha was his offering, something to be blessed and to bless with in turn.
How amazed I continue to be that this experience goes on unfolding in its own delicate and blissful way, even after twenty-five years. I think such experiences are happening more and more. And I think we should all welcome such evidence of our mutual link with transcendent reality, and share our discoveries with one another, for we are, indeed, participating in a common spiritual revolution.
That is what I think.
