Monday, May 15, 2006
More Adventures with Buddha
The Buddha which now hangs on my living room wall continues to bring surprises. Yesterday, after a hot shower, I went in to pay my respects and to perform chi gong as part of my continuing practice. Once again, I was startled to note that even as I made my first bow before the thangka, sweet energies were flowing through my hands, shoulders, and arms. Then, it was as though I was led to try a new position--this time it resembled the beginning of a squatting pose. As I gently raised my torso, I felt even more delightful energy flow, including streams flashing up my spine. And then I intuitively entered several "body mudras" (standing poses), each of which was extremely ecstatic.
While this was going on, a voice kept repeating "Stand up straight." This advice was not from some nagger within, but a simple reminder--advice I definitely need. And then I saw a new personage within--a soldier from the ancient Chinese royal court, who somehow seemed to be me. And so I wrote this poem about him:
Ching Mao
Ching Mao
chief deputy of the
Royal Palace Guard
stood straight
before the King.
His pointed hat,
his flowing skirts
and staff
were all in proper form.
He served his Lord assiduously,
kept strict rule
among the men.
But when the garrison slept
at night
he stole out among
the silver ponds,
gathered moonflowers
for his bed.
And this morning, there was yet another new experience. This time the unexpected happening was not energetic, but visual. As I gazed upon him (her), the image flashed and sparkled, as if I had again entered the astral world, where things reveal their true essence. At times, I witnessed an aura of clear light around the borders of the tapestry, as well as Buddha's own body and head.
It seems to me that all of these continuing revelations relate to the experience, some weeks ago, when a brilliantly lit Buddha entered my head. It seems to have been an announcement of things to come.
While this was going on, a voice kept repeating "Stand up straight." This advice was not from some nagger within, but a simple reminder--advice I definitely need. And then I saw a new personage within--a soldier from the ancient Chinese royal court, who somehow seemed to be me. And so I wrote this poem about him:
Ching Mao
Ching Mao
chief deputy of the
Royal Palace Guard
stood straight
before the King.
His pointed hat,
his flowing skirts
and staff
were all in proper form.
He served his Lord assiduously,
kept strict rule
among the men.
But when the garrison slept
at night
he stole out among
the silver ponds,
gathered moonflowers
for his bed.
And this morning, there was yet another new experience. This time the unexpected happening was not energetic, but visual. As I gazed upon him (her), the image flashed and sparkled, as if I had again entered the astral world, where things reveal their true essence. At times, I witnessed an aura of clear light around the borders of the tapestry, as well as Buddha's own body and head.
It seems to me that all of these continuing revelations relate to the experience, some weeks ago, when a brilliantly lit Buddha entered my head. It seems to have been an announcement of things to come.
