Tuesday, March 02, 2010
Suddenly Revealed: A Vision
I have just returned from a two week visit to the Bay area. I will likely write more about it later this week, but for now I want to tell you about a vision I experienced today in my morning meditation.
In San Francisco, I had picked up two very inexpensive CD's from a Tibet shop that was going out of business. One of these was entitled "Tibet's Garden" from Nature Harmonics. I thought I would play the other one, but instead found this disc in my hands as I opened my CD player (an inexpensive model from a drugstore, with headphones.) I got the impression from the jacket that this would be a recording of nature sounds in Tibet, and frankly, I was a little bit disappointed, since I was longing for music.
Sure enough the first sound was that of roaring wind, with a soft undertone of horns beneath it. My first reaction was that this was not a very good recording--the sound was abrasive and the musical notes too faint to hear clearly.
As I listened, the sound of the wind unleashed made me think of how such sounds must have been common around the monasteries poised on the edge of steep cliffs, and I almost shivered to think of how cold these temples must have been.
And then, I seemed to perceive a small procession coming from the monastery, with monks bearing a corpse on a litter. I assumed it was being taken away for a "sky burial," the practice in which ancient Tibetans carried the corpse to a remote spot where designated monks dismembered it and left the remains for the vultures to dispose of. I did not know for sure the identity of the corpse, but I guessed that it was me (but I was not disturbed at all by this surmise--after death the body has no more purpose in this world and should be destroyed in any way that is appropriate.)
And then another image came up. This time I knew it was me--I was a young boy, about fourteen years old, who had just arrived at the monastery to be trained as a monk. He (I) was very frightened, for he likely had never been anywhere at all before, outside his home and family or group. He was overwhelmed by the thought of what lay ahead, and most of all, afraid he would not be able to do things in the proper way. Above all, he wanted to please, to follow correct procedures, and for now he was extremely anxious about his new life among these august elders.
It was as if I had indeed entered his body, taken on his emotions, and in fact, I realized that this emotional and energetic body was my own. It felt totally familiar because we were one and the same and his was the subtle body I had carried with me into this life, including an innate shyness and a profound desire to please.
It was an extremely powerful experience and, although I am not a crier, I began to sob with the enormity of the revelation. It was as though a veil had been lifted and I, at last, was permitted to know (experience) who I was in a former life.
I might add that I immediately loved him, and realized he was most tender and sweet in his own right. I felt toward him the way any one of us might feel about ourselves (in this life) when we were young and vulnerable.
Actually, I have had somewhat similar glimpses of myself as a monk a few times before. Once when I was getting a massage, I "drifted off" and seemed to be a monk who was drifting in and out of consciousness as he lay dying. All the while, he was surrounded by other monks chanting over him. This was in no way frightening, but just the opposite--it was a very easy and supported death.
Another time I got a glimpse of "myself" as the Abbott of a monastery (again, in Tibet). I took one look at this rather good looking and extremely poised person and thought, "This fellow is no ascetic, that's for sure."
And at another time, I saw myself as a rather pudgy fellow who helped in the kitchen. He was a little bit disheveled and needed to comb his hair, but he was happy in his humble life.
These latter images were merely glimpses, but the vision of this morning was a full fledged and totally convincing recovery of a buried memory. I felt it was a blessing that had been granted, and knew that this moment of entry into a new life led directly to where (and who) I am now.
Later, I went over to a nearby restaurant for breakfast, and carried with me a volume of poems by Kabir (translated by Tagore) because I wanted to maintain the special state of deep consciousness I was in. At the restaurant, I opened to a previously bookmarked (but forgotten) page and read these lines:
I became suddenly revealed in Benares,
and Ramananda illumined me;
I brought with me the thirst for the Infinite
and I have come for the meeting with Him.
In simplicity I will unite with the Simple One;
my love will surge up.
(The "Simple One" here does not mean a simpleton. It means one who is pure and unmixed in his essence. Yeats puts it "when naked to naked goes.")
It may seem strange that I would share such an intimate revelation so soon with a public audience, but I feel that time is short for us all, and, although I held back for many years before revealing my earlier experiences in print ("Unmasking the Rose")I now wish to share immediately, in the hopes that others may resonate with and benefit from this bit of my story. Indeed, many of us know the "thirst for the Infinite" as a major force that shapes our lives. As we in time discover our "past selves," the source of our longing may be revealed.
Namaste and blessings to all,
Dorothy
March 2, 2010
