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Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Wall of Water

“And then what happened? Come on, tell me please, grandpa, what happened. What did he do next!!”, Eli asked his grandfather.
The grandfather shoved few more sticks into the fire that he kept burning, something he learned from his Master. He kindled the fire in the pit next to the house in a shallow crevice in the ground. He picked that spot because it was protected in all types of weather. He had kept the fire burning for over 26 years, as many years as he remembered his Master passing away to his ultimate Samadhi.

“Then nothing happened. He didn’t do anything else. He just walked back to town with me and we went to the next town where we can trade some Frankincense for food.”
 “Come in Eli and have your food”. Eli ran off to the kitchen to feast on the lovely baked fish that grandma prepared for him every Sunday. Matthew and his family celebrated Sunday in the memory of the Master.

Matthew kept staring into fire. The story he told Eli was true but he didn’t want to stir up old memory of still being with his Master, walking next to him, smelling his breath when he talked intermittently during their long journeys in the desert.

[36 years ago, on a cold morning in winter, location: somewhere around dead sea shore]

“But how do you know where you need to go? You have been traveling all your life, is that why?” Matthew asked his friend.
“Brother! I do not know where I am going! I go where my heart takes me, and where the trade takes me. I go where the Father tells me to go. I go where my Indian Master tells me to go”. Yeshua replied.

“Don’t you ever get lost?” Matthew wondered.
“Yes! All the time! But I don’t mind. I know that the Mother will take care of me! She always has…” Yeshua smiled back.
“You have said that before, but I still don’t understand it. How is that the experience of being alive that you call Mother, the one who puts you through the misery, is also taking care of you in the times of severe hardship?”
“One day you will understand when the moment comes. Just remember to surrender”. Yeshua patted Matthew on his shoulder.

“But Arkada! the Frankincense trade is seasonal. There is very little resin on the trees in this area. You travel hundreds of miles to collect few insects filled droplets, you sell it in the market the next day after careful preparation for hours. You don’t accept any thing from me or the other brothers. How do you make enough living?” Matthew asked.

“Brother! Never fear the unknown. Father created the world through the Mother. He maintains the world through the Mother and one day he will complete it through the Mother. Then why should you fear? I always get enough Frankincense to live happily for few months. And no, I accept gifts…when Father says so. I return the gifts. Remember I ate that fish your wife made for me last year. I even ate some of the bones! It was delicious.”

“Yes, Arkada! I am tired of hearing my wife tell that story to her friends in the town. We are now making fish for everyone now. It is all thanks to you and your blessings.”

“Thank the Lord within, Matthew. I am only an instrument; for his blessings are endless and unfathomable. Very mysterious is he! But his love is grand. More than you love your wife or you will love your children or your grandchildren.”

Matthew stood aghast knowing that Yeshua has just blessed his wife with a child perfectly knowing that they have tried for many years and had gotten nowhere. Matthew was about to cry and thank him; that’s when Yeshua stopped him and silently gestured him to be quiet and look within.
Look within. Look within. Look within, Matthew. Yeshua told Matthew many times. Matthew stood in complete awe.

Hours passed. They had now walked toward the body of water to soak their tired feat. For next hour or so, the two friends spent some time on their own. Matthew collected wood for the fire while Yeshua looked towards the water and calm waves in complete silence.

“Arkada! Arkada! Run! Run for your life! Look at that big wave approaching! Run! Let’s go before it drowns us!” Matthew threw away the precious dry wood that he had carefully collected and ran towards the last known location where he left Yeshua as he saw a massive rogue wave approaching them.

“Yeshu Arkada! Look! there is a wave coming our way. Follow me, I used to come to the town nearby when I was a kid…let’s run away, quickly!” Matthew yelled at top of his lungs. He knew that Yeshua was around there somewhere but could not find him while the rogue wave was quickly gaining on them.
“Brother! How long will you run away from your troubles? There is no way for us to go. You will drown if you go in any direction.” Matthew looked up and saw Yeshua standing tall on a stone looking calmly at the big Wall of Water coming towards them. Matthew trembled and shrieked with fear. He looked back at Yeshua and quickly jumped over onto the rock next to him.

Matthew quickly reviewed his life in those few moments while waiting for the water to approach. He thought about his wife and how the prophecy Yeshua made would never be fulfilled. He thought about how he had wasted his life worrying about everything and how to pay back his forefather's debt to the collectors who for generations have been asking for the debt to be settled. He thought about how happy he was when he first saw Yeshua and quickly became friends. He thought about how familiar Yeshua’s smile looked then. He looked back at Yeshua. Yeshua looked at him and smiled back. Matthew realized Yeshua’s smile was accompanied by complete and utter silence; he just realized this is the first time he listened to absolute silence…then he heard the water approaching. He closed his eyes…and fell unconscious.

Matthew opened his eyes while lying on Yeshua's side in drenched sand next to his dry clothes. He touched them to believe the unbelievable; his eyes searched for his friend. From the corner of his eyes, he saw a wall of water dispersing in smaller and smaller waves and a flash of bright white light walking towards his right. He looked again in the direction of the water till the water receded. The ball of white light approached him. He couldn’t focus his eyes for a moment; but when he did he couldn’t believe his eyes. His friend Yeshua, was dressed in the brightest white clothes with heavenly glow around him, and he was sliding towards him over the pool of water. He looked around him and saw a whirlpool as if he was a rock and the water simply carried around him. He got up on his elbow to fully grasp the vision he was having. He watched Yeshua finally touch his hand and pull him up next to him. Slowly, Matthew’s vision adjusted as he could feel his friend’s presence as he was used to. He realized he had been seeing double vision. He finally saw the reality behind the reality that he was used to. In that state of mind, he looked toward Yeshua and saw the etheric sheen that surrounded him, the silence that shrouded him, the rosy glow of the Mother that bestowed upon him, and the clean, in fact, the cleanest smell he had every smelled, emanating from Yeshua’s body.
Matthew fell down again, this time he became unconscious for days.
When he came back he realized he was in his home next to his wife who was worriedly making bread.
“Where is Yeshua? Am I dead?”
“Finally!” the woman ran outside to call on Yeshua.
Yeshua arrived in Matthew’s clothes that his wife had made for him; they were bit small for him. Matthew thought Yeshua looked like what his son would look like if his wife would indeed be able to give birth to their child.
Yeshua smiled and put his hand over Matthew’s hand.
“Brother! Just remember to surrender next time.” Yeshua  smiled and quietly walked out of the house.
 Matthew watched his friend leave. He noticed the little bag full of oily resin on his waist.

Matthew closed his eyes and he finally understood what Yeshua meant when he said, Look Within.

Sunday, September 14, 2014

The Missing Notes: Part 2--Pure Anguish

So it happened that Vallabh was born into the family who had wealth and prosperity. The father had acquired considerable wealth and the mother was known for her beauty and charm. They named him Vallabh as he was the missing piece in the joyous gathering of the souls. Vallabh grew up fast.  And it so happened that he developed a hunch and poor eyesight.                                                      Soon he became a hunchback and was ridiculed by all the children in neighborhood.  The parents resented the boy, as he became the focal point of the town’s misbehavior. Over next few years their wealth dwindled due to father’s negligence in the business and increased preoccupation with his boy’s looks. He called upon doctors from far and wide to make him straight. The father lost his family business and so the collectors demanded all the jewelry and the house as ransom.On top of the piling debt, the boy ate a lot and he grew up to be really big, bigger than the other boys of his age. Vallabh’s parents became tired of his hunch, his strange looks, and his growing appetite. One day Vallabh knocked off a painting while reaching for water in a pot after a big meal. The father threw a fit, became agitated and knocked him over. He kicked him out saying that he should have been killed the moment he was born and that he had brought down the entire  family and the wealth they had built for generations.The mother poured hot water on him and said that he was the reason she was no longer admired as the beauty of the town and such an ugly being was not worthy of her love.
Vallabh was out of streets and he begged until he was taken to a shelter. He was passed on from one orphanage to another.  None could bear his presence and his appetite.His body emitted foul smell and his hunch was more prominent than ever.  To his demise, the little food he received was turned into a strong body, which made him fearful.                                Tired of the society in which he grew up, of the life he had lived, and of the hatred he had received – Vallabh finally took off in a random direction towards an unknown town. One day he accidentally touched the left hand of the daughter of town secretary and the secretary brought down hell on him and got him sentenced for six years of hard labor.After six years of being in prison, breaking stones and living filthy, the hunchback was released in a work-farm which employed young men. The farm owner was a simple woman who had lost her husband many years ago in an accident. She was known as the miracle mother who can cure any one of any illness. She looked after about fifty young men and helped them transition back into society while facilitating their growth and natural talents.And so it happened that the Miracle Mother took to young Vallabh and gave him the love and care he never received. As Vallabh changed he noticed how the Miracle Mother worked. He never ventured outside of the farm eventhough the Miracle Mother encouraged him to do so. One day out of curiosity, Vallabh discovered that besides the strangely smelling plants (Vallabh had an extraordinary sense of smell) that the Miracle Mother grew in her farm, there was a pleasant meadow full of fragrant flowers,  and juicy fruits right across from the irrigation canal that watered the farm.                                       Soon Vallabh grew fond of the orchard and the meadow and came to sit there after the day’s labor and spent most of his free time there. Three years passed and Vallabh now became intimately familiar with the potent herbs that grew in the farm and the sweet smelling orchard. Vallabh became Miracle Mother’s right hand as he is the one who grew and took care of the medicinal plants. Vallabh was sent out on errands to collect needed supplies for the medicines and deliver the medicines. He soon became familiar with every smell and odor of the town. Vallabh learned from the Miracle Mother and developed a knack for understanding how certain odors can cure certain diseases.Vallabh became more tuned and grew stronger and bigger. He mastered the arts of potions under Miracle Mother’s tutelage and healed many people including himself.
He combined his sadhna and potions and got rid of his hunch completely. He became un-deformed and cured of his illness.    One day he was told to deliver medicines to an old couple in a nearby town.  Unbeknownst to Vallabh, he entered his hometown completely oblivious to its smells as he never learned to use his gift while he grew up.
                            As he approached the varanda of the pale yellow house with the swing, he immediately recognized it as his childhood home where he was born. He was tuned to his parents smell and as they came out to get the medicines he stood in his track.
    The old frail woman gave him the money and thanked him as the geriatric and dilapidated old house stood still.  The old man sat on the swing blankly looking at him and not looking at him at the same time lost in his dementia.  The woman asked him "what’s the matter son, did you get the right change for the medicines?"
  ‘No mother. I was told not to charge you any money by the Miracle Mother.’
‘ Okay then, you must be hungry. Let me get you some food , then you can be on your way’.  The woman exclaimed.
   ‘ No mother, I do not want your food either’.
  ‘ What do you want then?’ the old man off-handedly asked and continued with this day dreams.
   ‘Your apologies’.
   Finally after a long hard look, both the old man and woman recognized their son.  They cried and embraced Vallabh and said they hardly recognized him, so young, and stout and handsome.
 The whole scene from years of isolation, insult and throw-up by the society played out in Vallabh’s mind, topped by the incident that started it all.
 Vallabh now took the anger he gathered in his entire life, and spat on his parents and threw them back at the swing and said, ‘ I curse you, both of you for abandoning me and throwing me out on the streets while I needed your love the most.  What good are you as parents when you could not love your son. I curse you both that you will suffer till you die in this life and the next till you shall learn to receive me as I am and as I choose to be’.                                  The old man and woman cried their hearts out while sitting on the swing. Their heart-felt apologies and the outpour of years of anguish were heard by no one but the Divine Mother as she is the one who orchestrated this show and others that we are part of.     We are only the writers of the script, the actors and the audience for she is the one who creates us, for she is the script, and for she is the theater seats and the stage upon which these dramas are being played out.

Saturday, September 13, 2014

The Missing Notes: Part 3- Pure Jealousy

Vasili was a handsome young dude who was coveted as partner by young girls in the town of Manitoba especially the two 17-year-old twin sisters Vanessa and Victoria. The father of the two twins wanted very much that Victoria and Vasili would marry.  He was a skin-doctor and knew that the both had very healthy skins.  For the skin showed the inner essence and even though he loved both his daughters equally his desire was to be grandfather of the progeny of two people with the most beautiful skins in the entire Manitoba.Little did the skin-doctor know that Vasili coveted both the twins-he loved Victoria and lusted after Vanessa, that Victoria often misunderstood Vasili’s feelings toward her sister as love. Vasili was torn in his feelings for the twins for he could not explain to himself why he would love one and not the other, why he would lust one and not the other.  Same bodies, same looks, same beauty and yet the dichotomy of love and lust.  Unless the love that we know and lust that we know turns into a potent and ever present Divine Love, the soul embodying a human being will continue to ascend and descend till it has perfected the knowledge of pure love and truth by experience of the same in the earth plane.  This memory and remembrance of the fallen state of pure and true state of love makes the soul embodying human state immortal again or rather reminding itself of its immortality. Next day Vasili sent a note to the twins to meet him at the church in between his father’s estate and the twins’ father’s estate. An October evening, Vasili arrived amonth the beautiful garbs of reds, oranges, yellows on the trees and the sound of horseshoe on cobble stones around the church which was alive with candles. ‘Ladies, strange as this may sound, I had the most curious dream that you two and I were in a dream having apple juice right by that orchard while both of you put your palms on my chest and sang.Then out of blue, a sharpshooter came out behind the oak tree and took out an arrow and sang the arrow into me. I mean the arrow shot me but it sang. I mean, I can’t explain but the arrow was ringing with sounds and music. I think it was his voice…’7Vanessa and Victoria both exclaimed together, ‘Yes we know! We had the same dream! The cupid drew his arrows and before shooting them at us, he said, ‘you are missing three notes. Here is the final note.’’
 After talking to each other and poking fun at Vasili for an hour, both girls took off. Vasili quietly slipped a note in Vanessa’s pocket which only Victoria noticed.
 As Vanessa changed into her evening gown as Victoria waited for the maids to leave,; she took out the note and read it out loud, ‘meet me here again next week- same time, I will have a surprise for you’. Vanessa, oblivious to the note, gulped down the dinner and went to bed while Victoria decided to pay Vasili visit next week at the afore mentioned time and place.
  Vasili arrived at the church next Sunday morning before the mass, lit up a candle and prayed. He prayed that somehow he could make sense of his lust and love paradigm and that he can let Vanessa know about how much he loved her body and loved her sister’s soul. As Vasili took Victoria to the upstairs attic to talk to her (he could not recognize Victoria and thought she was Vanessa), he touched her for the very first time. Victoria had an incredibly smooth skin and she had gone an extra bit to be more attractive for Vasili.  As Vasili looked in her amber eyes by the church candlelight, a great old venomous desire arose which he could not control. His chest was on fire and he overcame with blind lust.  In doing so and following his innate desire to learn greater lesson, he yet again mated with Victoria, the same soul that once threw a shy glance at him during the setting sun by the riverbank.   Nine months passed…  Victoria gave birth to a blind boy.  A church committee was formed to determine the fate of the mother and the child.  To much of her father’s delightful surprise, the father of the boy (born blind) came forward in front of the ruling committee and admitted that he was the farther of the blind boy and that he wished to ask Victoria’s hand in marriage.   A year later, as the two sisters sat in the same church, Vanessa looked at the nursing Victoria, felt an urge that became overwhelming, and shouted, ‘ I curse you! Both of you!  how can you fornicate him when he wanted me! How can you keep him when he wanted me! I curse both of you that you two will be childless.’    And it so happened that after a year later, the blind child walked over to the fire, fire caught his shirt and he was consumed in fire.  

   Yet again, our emotions and desires get the worst of us, while our immortal selves constantly prod us in the right direction to experience a lifetime to overcome the same desire and emotion.  True freedom is the remembrance through experience. An experience of Truth and Divine Love goes far beyond the lower qualities of jealousy, anguish, and lust.  This is our true essence – it is a Nirguna (quality less)  state of pure being.

Desert Mist

 Sometimes I like to get on top, on the highest summit, and look at my land as far as the eye can see.  I think of all the children who occupy the entire time-space continuum. I think of all of my children - the native americans, the Australians, the Chinese, the hummingbirds, all the human races and species, the birds and the insects, the animals, the stones, the trees,  the planets, stars, the butterflies, the geese, and billions of species of star-children that I have tended for billions and billions of years.

 I survey my land to see how everything looks. Whether all my notes have been playing the way I have intended. Whether they are still part of that golden sea, clad with stars and pearls that give it the ethereal quality.  Nothing ever lacks that quality. It is always there.  I see all, I see everywhere, I tend to everything in that moment, feeling tall and proud, I stand on that cliff and take it all in. 
 Among the infinite stories that arise from me and as they play themselves out, I gaze at them in wonder. My ecstasy filled dream-bubbles arise from the bottom of the land, which comprises of the pure primordial waters of consciousness, take form and journey to the top. Each of these soul-star-children, bubbles, fizzles and froths at the top of the ecstasy waves that seem to have no limit and that seem to unite them.  I often wonder at this harmony of ecstasy waves and how uniquely they yearn for me, entwine with each other and then finally submerge into me. The golden sea of star-children gives the entire sight a new meaning. Every time I look at it, I feel wonder and joy.  And to know more, I dissolve myself back into my children as them and ride the waves with them.

 Each story is unique. It is my expression. It is my Ananda. It is my Ananda personified and acted out in the land of ecstasy that dolls out from within me. I roll and unravel in the marvels that stay hidden within me.  This is how I am complete.  My star-children make me complete. 
  This story, this one story that I am about to tell you takes place, as do all others, as one unique note of my Ananda throughout the length and breath of the land. And to make it even more resonant, I let this note run loose and amok…just to see how it blends in, how well it mixes with other notes, how its rhythmic movement of ecstasy plays out in synchrony with other individual ecstasies.
   And just as the rest of the stories, this story eventually condenses to be played out and acted out on my favorite place in my land, Earth.  As my human star-children take part in it, I unravel in my own mystery.  I wonder, I exclaim, I cry, I laugh, and I fill myself with ecstatic wonder as they experience it.  All these moments, it is my infinite self. All these stories are the moments that define me and arise from me.  Because of these moments, I am complete. 

   Once there was a cowboy. He was a wild child.  Abiding to no one, feeling proud and alone, he wandered on his high horse in the wild country.  He had no lives. No children of his own. No story of his own. He wandered aimlessly from one end of the land to the other. When he arrived at the other end, he remembered nothing of what he had encountered.  Thus he decided to be mortal.  The cowboy had a star in his head, just as all my children do, but this one carried the star strong and bright.  It was as if he wanted to see clearly where he was going when he rode his horse into the infinite dark abyss.  He satisfied himself by seeing what was right in front of him. His heart created his experiences and the star in his head made it real.  The cowboy was given the duty to illuminate the entire space-time continuum. Unbeknownst to him and me, the Mother put him in charge of a special task.  He lived and experienced everything to unravel that secret purpose.  I journeyed with him to find out what that specific secret purpose was.
   One day the cowboy came across a few overgrown shrubs.  Since it took him forever, infinity in fact, to come back to the same spot again, he was quite surprised to see how these shrubs had overgrown.  After all, these were his children in making towards whom he felt a subconscious pull and brought himself over and over again to see how they had grown.  He started pulling them and clearing the weed around it.  On his parallel journeys across the infinity, a few of his well tended creations dematerialized and disappeared.  When he heard those notes of death in his subconscious field and felt their pain, he stopped pulling those shrubs.  He unwittingly scoffed and patted a few, talked to a few, gave them a listen. He gave water to a few from his limited supply which he had gathered from places very far away, and felt content for the first time at the sight of the shrubs.  He thought, how nice it would be if these shrubs grew into beautiful flowering and fruiting trees.  Will they grow, cover the entire desert, attract rain, and create their own seeds, and spread the seeds and give the rest of the desert a life? He wondered. 
 Next infinity later and to much of cowboy’s surprise, the shrubs had covered significant portion of the desert and created a small oasis. 

The desert surrounded the oasis but it did not limit it. It contained the oasis within. The cowboy came down from his horse, grabbed a fruit and plucked a bright blue-white flower and sat down under a cool shade of a giant fig tree with bright dark green leaves. For the fruit and the flower and the tree were his companions in this creation of his, which he was able to experience by the virtue of the rest of the space-time continuum as it agreed to contribute to it with ecstasy.  The Mother gave him all the seeds possible. Of course, the cowboy did not know that.  He had to create it all, experience it all and realize it all in order to know that. 

‘This flower is so fragrant’, he thought to himself. ‘I like the smell of it.’  The flower smelled bit spicy. It had sweet, sharp and tangy aroma. Cowboy was pleased. He took off his hat and took a long breath. The sun filtered through the tree where he was sitting. He let out a big sigh and looked to his left. He saw the moon peering through the leaves. ‘Hum, the Autumn begins,’  another thought.
And so it happened.
The leaves swayed a bit. Then they swayed a bit more. Then they started moving back and forth. The Cowboy marveled and experienced the play of sunlight and leaves for the first time, laughed for the first time. The laughter was deep and resonant. It was heard far and wide. Invited by the Ananda note he had just played, a breeze came by.  ‘Aaah, what a nice place this is….how come I never decided to sit and rest?’ And so it happened. The cowboy stayed under that particular tree for a while.
Cowboy cleared some of the weed and grass around where he was sitting, and took off his rugged shoes and put on the grass and weed slippers that he made for himself. ‘Hum, nice and comfy. It always stays cool, unlike my shoes.  I oughtta do something about that…’
The cowboy took a bite of the fruit.  ‘Sweet, hum, its juicy’. He thought.
 The breeze had now turned into a slow, intermittent, cool wind.  ‘How nice,’ he thought. And so to join this note of ecstasy, water decided to contribute its note to Cowboy’s creation. It now presented the cowboy with its matrix and an infinite supply.  Infinite because it was joyous. Infinite because it was born of pure ecstasy. Infinite because it existed in the present moment. Infinite because it was complete.
  The Cowboy slept off, under the tree with his new shoes, the hat over his eyes, his back against the tree trunk, and the mysterious wind mist against his hair-flocks.  He connected to his other simultaneous creative endeavors across the golden sea of deserts, vistas, mountains, oceans, and continents, formed and some yet to be formed, and brought to them each his asleep, restful, content self. He left them there to rest and to nap.
   His own snores woke him up.
  ‘Tokhar, pestonji,  Looback. Goyash…urgh,  haak thoo, uhooo’.  Cowboy cleared his throat.
   In his half asleep phase, he murmured ‘Jimmy, get them damn steeds. They wander yonder and give a trouble.  Put that noose ‘round that calf and make sure to pile that shit in the corner. Leave ‘em there and go in and call your mother.  I need to take ‘er out into the town. Careful, don’t play with yer sister like ‘at.  Watch your cuss, son. Don’t  forget to lock the gate or them wolves will come and pick on the young ‘uns...’  Whoosh! He finally woke up and realized his dream-reality bubble had popped as he woke up.
    ‘Hum. That was nice.  That was a good life. That was an interesting experience. It is like being here but more complete. More satisfying…’ He thought.
   And so it happened.
 Each time, he woke up, the story he was in seemed more real than the other.  Like that, the Cowboy took many naps thus fulfilling himself and unraveling in his own ecstasy during these lives that he dreamed and experienced; each one more real than the other until he experienced hundreds and thousands of such lives.  Each time he woke up in his oasis here and elsewhere he felt he was being more complete. Each time he took a nap, he dreamed himself in a story, then another and then another. 
 In between these stories, he woke up to take a piss, or eat the fruits, or to stretch his body and prune the trees, and pat his horse.  In between these naps he tended the meadows and then his oasis and then his desert.
  Every moment experienced he experienced as creation, there was a parallel moment as a creator.
     Sometimes, his horse took him around for a ride.  He would again sit at a tree, marvel at its growth and foliage, sit down under it, follow the ritual of looking at the sun and moon through the rustling leaves, putting his hat over his eyes, locking the fingers across the stomach and dozing off the same way. Each time-space, each tree was unique expression of his creative endeavor, unbeknownst to him, and allowed him to experience himself as a unique expression of himself as he slept off.  Each time the mysterious and misty wind surrounded him and lofted him into places where he needed to be.

  And so it happened.
   One day, the cowboy woke up from his nap and felt a longing for something. ‘What is this pain? Am I not fulfilled? I have everything I want. Why then, do I feel empty?’ As if to answer his question, a fine mist appeared around the cactus meadow he was resting in…
    ‘Oh how nice! What is this that is cool and soothing? It’s not the ecstasy filled wind that rustles the leaves; it’s not that…what must be this new thing?’, the Cowboy realized the presence of the wind for the first time.
    The mist obscured the sun and the moon, but it made them clearer when it departed.  ‘And when I look at them through the mist, I could see them better, any way…’ the Cowboy thought.
    Cowboy took a whiff and a grab of the mist.  ‘How nice is this mist… It can’t be grabbed it like the wind but I can condense it and make crystal clear transparent luster around me…’ To accompany this realization and to complete it, the Water thus appeared in the desert.
    In a few days, the water filled the oasis in various spots; the oasis turned into an ensemble of thick forests, streams, rivers and waterfall covered gorgeous mountain cliffs.  Trees with thick foliage appeared.  Cowboy took morning walks and marveled at the dewdrops on the leaves of the gem-like forests, the cool and mysterious mist that appeared every so often. The ocean filled up the desert and became the meeting point for all the waters running through the virgin forests, the meadows, the humungous conifer trees, the little saplings, and the golden green grass covered plains. It gave the ensemble a sense of land; it defined it. It created pathways on which the Cowboy now traded and realized how inexhaustible and expressive his surroundings were.  He sometimes abandoned his horse to wander on the land by itself and made a boat out of the tall tree trunks and sat out sailing in the ocean.  Sometimes he would dive into the ocean to explore its depths and its creatures. The mysterious mist accompanied him on his voyages even into the depths of the ocean and the cowboy occupied himself with stories that became rich with experiences.

 The Cowboy realized that it would take him eternity to explore every nook and cranny of his beloved oasis, which was now the gorgeous island. An island as big as himself perhaps… 
‘The island seemed limitless, ‘he thought. ‘How wonderful!  And that ocean, which circles it, is also limitless.’
I must be limitless, he realized. And so it happened that cowboy became infinite. 
  Meanwhile the cowboy continued playing with the mist. The mist appeared out of nowhere. The mist seemed to stay and obey its own law. The mist gave the cowboy the feeling of home…his home away from his current home, the creation that he endowed and enabled with his ideas.  Life appeared and contributed to the infinite ensemble of ecstatic notes he played with and experienced in infinite forms.  And thus, these notes then became his own star-children.
  And so it happened that after so many infinities of tending, caring, and shaping his infinite island in the ocean, the mysterious mist and its intrinsic and secretive Ananda now became even more mysterious to him. He thought that the mist was more infinite than himself, his island, and the surrounding ocean.  Cowboy realized that he created this mist as a the omnipresent symbol to remind himself of that which created him.
  One day, the Cowboy looked at the mist for a long time and gazed at the beauty of it.  The more he looked the more he ingested and expanded. The mist now sparkled with diamond-fire and the water and fire within became One. The cowboy lost himself in its mysteries.
  He experienced everything all at once. He saw himself as one of the star-children, and his companions across these infinite many stories that he shaped and participated in, as few of the infinite many star-children, his heart experienced as the infinite stories and all that juicy infinite mist that encircled it as small portions of even bigger infinity.  This infinity contained all that he could imagine and could not imagine. This infinity was unique and infinite like him and yet he was infinitely small compared to it.  This infinity had infinite many faces with a singular face of infinity that defined it. This infinity seemed to ooze from its own self. 
This infinity contained all that could be experienced and can ever be experienced in myriads of baby universes being nurtured and cured just as he tended for his shrubs.  Everywhere he looked he saw an infinite ensemble of Ananda. This infinity contained all that infinite potential of itself and moved with infinite power and motion. He contributed to that potential and that extraordinary ensembles of space, time and thought and made it complete.  The static and dynamic infinity seemed to have all the answers as himself and others. Everywhere he turned he experienced the sacred and naked Truth as the secret Ananda.  This infinity was his true home, he realized.
The cowboy then stepped into the bliss filled fire-mist and became One with it.

He was complete. He became Immortal. He became me.

A Girl and A Day

‘So that’s how the whole of Egypt, the upper and lower Nile Deltas came into being and the deserts sprung up.’ Septi (meaning=7 or sevenfold) told her friend Chandrasparshi (meaning=the one who is touched by the Moon).

‘And so what you are saying is that he was indirectly responsible for the disappearance of the fairies from the Earth experience for centuries to come and that he was directly involved with others in creation of the Egyptian stories?’ Chandrasparshi confirmed.
‘Well, he started out with good intention, but…’ Septi’s voice rang out with 7 sweet melodies as Maria heard the two talk. What an incredible voice! She thought. And her little friend,  she is so beautiful. So graceful and so full of effulgent white light.  ‘…But his desires perverted his goals and he became too involved in his own maya and started imposing his goals in his sadhna (spiritual practice)’, Chandrasparshi finished the sentence.
Maria pressed her right ear harder on the tree trunk she was leaning on.  The tree was crimson red and navy blue in color. There were yellow gold striations throughout. These bands appeared and disappeared as Septi talked. Maria listened on…
‘Yes, so was I was saying, after many centuries, he was reborn as Imhotep in a very pristine and privileged family of Royal Priests of White Magic as the Mother decided to give him yet another chance to clean up his acts.  

Imhotep was given initiations into many of the lost arts of his time (which he had been part of in his early incarnations). He was taught how to heal people. He was taught how to read their palms and provide them with medicines and potions, which would help them, untangle their twisted energies, live out their karmic obligations and recover their lost energies. Imhotep acquired many skills never completely mastering them for he was sent from one Master’s tutelage to the other.  Three Grand Masters of the White and Blue Lotus Orders of Nile tried teaching him everything and anything he would have desired. Imhotep became impatient with their methods and forgot one important thing about being Master Healer, that is you should be humble and learn to adapt to the changing circumstances.  Imhotep’s fall in his previous lives was due to his false pride and yet again he repeated the same mistakes.  The Mother however is always hopeful that her children learn from their mistakes and work on their karmic debts by accessing the subconscious library of memories, see the identical circumstances, which had led to their fall previously, and choose differently to enhance their progress towards the Great Spirit.  The Grand Masters of White and Blue Lotus Orders of Nile gave Imhotep one last chance to recover his White Magic which is untainted by desires and only driven by Love and creational wonder of Self.  Soon they were called upon a gathering by the other Nine Grand Masters.

Together the 12 Grand Masters entered the Halls of Amenti, deep within the womb of Mother Earth and called upon their Galactic brothers and sisters.
Six male guardians from Sirius, and six female guardians from Pledias were summoned who promptly appeared in their Earthly bodies.  The chamber within the Great Pyramid started resonating with etheric sounds of the Mother Infinity and a pool of clear water appeared within the Majestic royal blue and gold chamber.  Soon after the cure of the plagues that harassed Egypt, the Incan Plateu, the Asian planes were discussed, the Grand Masters of the White and Blue Lotus Orders brought up Imhotep.  Soon it was decided that Imhotep will be equipped with all the knowledge he needed to restore his powers and that he will be given this knowledge in his sleep and meditations and never in the external sensory reality.  It was decided that Imhotep must take that step of integrating the deep memory of Divine with his external circumstances himself however many lifetimes it may take.
The three Grand Masters of the White and Blue Lotus Orders smiled at each other as the session was concluded. The glow disappeared and the Masters reappeared in their chambers spread across the lower and upper Nile Deltas.  They slowly discontinued their connection with Imhotep as they realized he had grown more selfish and became obsessed with his subconscious traumas and started imposing his desires to possess and control the White Magic.’

Maria looked on and saw the golden letters appear from the mist around the tree she was leaning on, ‘The White Magic is incorruptible.  Magic binds everything within.  Magic must not be abused. Magic can not be controlled and possessed.  Magic is Goddess.  Goddess creates, Magic creates.’
Septi’s resonant voice continued as Maria glanced at the last letter disappearing into the thin mist. The language was so intimately familiar yet she had never seen the letters before. She just understood somehow.
‘And so it happened that after being a priest in the Royal family for 40 years, Imhotep became in charge of mummifying the bodies. 
  On this fateful day, today, he got up with severe headache and received news from his helper boy that the son of the Faroh, was bitten by a snake and passed away. Imhotep overcame with guit and anger towards himself as he faintly recalled the helper boy waking him up in the previous night when he was busy trying out different potions. As often as he did for last 40 years, he would drink a potion and meditate.  He repeated this act over and over again to see if he could connect with the magical stream of light that he used to see when he was a child.  Imhotep realized that he had gone too far into the sedative frenzy created by the potions.  He immediately ordered the boy to clean the marble bench next to the alter.
 He prepared the prince’s body by cleaning all the extremities and giving orders to his servant boys to take out the internal organs. They made fine specimens which
he often used to brew potions unbeknownst to the rest of the Nile Delta.  However today, for the first time in years, Imhotep gave the order to feed the organs to the wild animals, the act of relinquishing Soul’s earthly attachments by giving it back to Earthly creatures. More importantly is an act of purification for the Soul.  Imhotep remembered how he was taught these important yet simple rituals by his uncle.
 Only a few days ago, Faroh’s son asked him about the burial procedure and said that he would like to learn from him.  You see, in those times in Nile Delta, a child born in any house could decide to do anything except the work of slaves.  The kind Faroh always fostered the societal variety to grow sideways. His ministers thought he was crazy and created more havoc in society but over the years they came to appreciate that Faroh was right in allowing order within the chaos to appear.  Faroh’s son took his father’s policies one step further and created a system of donors and receivers which eventually created an almost utopian society. The royal priest, Imhotep for an example was given 10000 gold stone tablets for his family’s services to the royal line of kings. Imhotep used most of the gold to feed his own eccentric and fiendish schemes of brewing magical potions and bringing the magical reality back to Egypt.

While reflecting upon his lust of magic and overwhelming desire to own and possess magic, Imhotep felt incredible pain in the left ventricle of his heart. He knew he was having a heart attack and that he soon would pass over.  He recalled his dream from the fortnight.  While preparing the last rites of the young prince and clutching his hand on his heart, he recalled that he had the same dream 40 years ago before kicking at the door of his uncle for not letting him on the secret of magic.
 The Goddess had decided that the times were inappropriate for the White Magic to appear yet. Imhotep saw a vision of an old Egyptian goddess in that dream,  as she told her to stop embarking on the fruitless journey.
She told him to spend his time working on potions to heal people who were suffering from various deceases. The snakes materialized in droves in the externalized reality in the towns and cities and were becoming a big menace, or the wild uncontrolled subconscious memories of the souls born in the Nile Delta at this time were rampant.
 With tears running down from his eyes, he purified the body of the prince with fragrant essential oils and wrapped the young prince’s body with softest linens. He then closed the purification ceremony by summoning the Goddess, as he was taught by his uncle, and painting a red spot on the third eye in the forehead. He could only recall one of the thirty chants of the closeout ritual and told the helper boy to run down the basement to get the scrolls.
Sharp pain shot up in the back of his head and right before he passed out. He had another vision of a future lifetime. This time he saw himself as an Indian king and yet again sought the help of the spirits through a black guardian spirit, a sinister figure whom he recognized as the condensed and consolidated subconscious desires of possession and control.
The sun was about to set. The beautiful open chamber of his mansion was filled with evening light and as Imhotep looked on he realized how etheric and surreal and magical this moment was.  Imhotep lit up lamps and incenses and as the white drapes fluttered in the Nile breeze.  He gasped for air, drank water and felt that all of these moments were magical indeed. He had simply chosen to ignore them. The magic unfoled in front of him as his everyday life and such moments were abundant and yet he had not recognized them.  The whole mansion was filled with supernal light as it did everyday. He saw the helper boy approaching with pot to water the plants that the boy tended and realized how frivolous he had been while ignoring the plants, the river, the sunrises and sunsets and the joy of serving and healing others. His heart now went into irregular fibrillations as he realized that he had stolen the very essence of Life from the spirits that he possessed and gathered in order to unfold the magic which was always present and infinite. 

Imhotep sat down on the marble stone next to the body, and realized that he was blinded by his desire to produce magic which he once knew so well.  He does not see his own maya and the fact that his desire was creating such veils under which he is being taken advantage of by the dark forces.  His regular intake of potions was in fact the poison that intensified these dark forces of anger, lust, greed, jealousy, and the whole gambit of negative emotions and that these acts pushed away the innocence and the Divine Essence  within him. 
While dealing with these spirits they transferred the gunk of the universe to him to channel and cleanse. However some of the associative karma with the faroh and his princes still remained as he had abused their soul energies and used their organs, made potions and drank them. 
Finally, Imhotep took his last breath while looking at the white heron silently waiting on a dry branch over the river looking for a fish and recalled for the brief moment how magical everything was before he was reborn.’
 Maria was dumbfounded and perplexed at the variation of putrid encounters and mangled human emotions. She cried when she heard the characters of the stories cried, she laughed when they laughed. And she became overjoyed when she heard that they had finally found the magical reality of Divine through their life experiences. 
Maria gulped the clear water of the stream next to the tree and continued on.  Onwards, she leaned on various trees and listened to their stories. Each tree emitted a specific hue of light and aroma. Each tree had astounding resemblance to the every other tree and yet each tree had a unique story. 
 The sun was about to set. The forest had lost most of the mist and bathed in the light that seemed to appear from everywhere. A beautiful golden sun appeared through the red tree trunks of Giant Redwoods.
She came across a tree with white trunk and bright amber yellow and moon-blue leaves. The trunk showed golden striations when Septi spoke.  Maria took a step forward and pressed her right ear against the knott in the center.
‘And so Maria was sent on a mission to find Kokopelli.  She started out in a misty forest with tall tress. Trees change colors according to her mood and the time of the day. The girl carried magic with her.’, Maria heard Septi talk.  

With an ecstatic wonder, Maria looked around her and found the Aspen leaves creating a gorgeous golden red hue while the setting Sun’s rays filtered through them and replenished the forest floor.   The sun filtered through glowing bodies of red ants on a nearby trunk of a tree that had recently fallen down.  As the sunlight hit the remaining leaves on the forest floor through the ant bodies, it created mini rainbows. Maria thought her eyes glowed with the same twinkle as these rainbows. Could it be? Can it be? Maria thought in ecstatic wonder.  ‘Hum, it is so...’ The resonant voice of Septi filled the entire forest.
Maria realized that she was born into this day in this body here and now and had been playing in this forest for eternities. These stories were her stories.  Maria then looked at her hands and giggled when she realized that she had been born out of her own magic.  She realized that she carried the myth of her origin as told by two girls to each other as the bindu or the dot of Chandra (Moon) that she saw early morning before the sunrise and before starting her journey in the forest early morning. She oozed the intoxicating wine and elixir Divine that symbolizes bindu on Shiva’s forehead, the Chandra. She knew that she is the dot in the symbol Aum.
As she saw the forest and the mist finally cloaked into her dress, two of her vehicles, a giant male African elephant and a big African lion appeared from the forest.
She realized that she had encountered the Divine Essense, herself,  Krushna on many different occasions as the dual colors of yellow gold/amber red and mystic blue/dark glowing blue. Only now this dawned on her.
As she continued and arrived on the vary spot she had started in the morning, as the twilight and the early night descended she wrapped her magic into her self,  the Bliss, and heard a mystical flute from the distance.
A lonely figure of Kokopelli appeared above in the starts and she rode the start-chariot and became one with her Twin.

The end.