Saturday, April 30, 2011

Satya Sai Baba--The Passing of an Enigma

"That any being, either in human or spirit form, that presents himself to your consciousness and claims to be a Master, or who permits you to call him Master, is nothing more nor less than a personality, the same as yours, and therefore is not Divine, as you human mind understands that term, despite the many wonderful 'truths' he may utter, and the 'marvelous' things he may do."--The Impersonal Life 

The following is a letter I wrote to God years ago when the allegations of pedophilia started coming forth about the spiritual teacher that millions, including myself at one point, felt was an avatar, come to help save humanity in these troubled times. It was a troubling time for me, for I was seeing this happening in many of my spiritual heroes, this fall into base human weaknesses. And it troubled me. It didn't make sense to the deeply profound experiences I had had with Sai Baba and these other teachers. Most of these teachers, especially the ones who come to the US, find that their sexuality comes blazing forth and they either hide their sexual escapades or say they are doing it for the other's sake. Some sort of tantric ritual or alchemical rite. And then the lies start to spread to whatever they do.

It wasn't until I played this game called Leela, by Harish Johari, that any of this made sense. The children's game Snakes and Ladders is based upon this old Yogic game. It shows that we all start off in Cosmic Consciousness on the eighth level, and we enter the game by coming into Maya, the first level. We make our way up by doing such actions like austerities, having good company, doing good deeds, etc., and are pulled down by the snakes by such things like anger, bad company, violence, etc. The thing that I found so amazing is that if one is vibrating in the third level, one is on the level of angel and saints, and it is only the third level! When one is up on the seventh level one is a god. Yet, the higher one goes the more snakes await to bring one down. But that is part of the game. One goes up and down over and over again until one reaches the goal. But the goal really is not being attached to the levels one is vibrating at. One is simply to remember that one is Pure Consciousness that has no levels.

If you become an Avatar, or your disciples call you the Master, the attachment is that you are always operating at the highest level. But no one does. And to pretend that you do, or others pretending that you do, you just stay at the bottom with the pretense of being on the top.

Sai Baba, like the others that I looked up to to follow, has perhaps given us the greatest teaching: We now live in a time that the Guru is to be found within so that ultimately we must be our own Authority by listening to the indwelling God of All That Is.


Dear God,

How amazingly treacherous is the path we tread upon this earth. What an adventure; what a game. A game with nothing to lose, but eternity at stake. By Your Grace seekers do rise, by their good deeds, purification, study of the scriptures, associating with the wise, having compassion towards others and forgiveness of so-called debts.

And wise ones they become, bathed in Your Glow, radiating like lamps in the night. Many seekers come to these risen ones by Your Grace. And around the wise ones the seekers sit, and pray and bow, and Your Light gets confused with the form of the wise one, and pictures of the Holy Man or Woman becomes like wallpaper. Then every scrap of food touched by him or her the seekers pounce upon like hungry dogs and call it prasad, and every drop of spittle is collected in urns and placed on altars, forgetting You, the Formless and Form of All, and call this wise one God.

Ramana has said that the Guru and You are One; but how rare is the true Guru who, like You, is neither moved by praise or blame, gifts or curses, who rests in the Peace of the Needless. The Guru and You are One because You both dwell in the Silence of Being where not two but One exists.

So many, dear God, rise by Your Grace into the heights of Consciousness. Then  by the adoration of their followers are bitten by the snakes of vices, and fall back to the world of men. The snake of lust with the cravings for the fire of passion, the fire of creation, few can escape its bite.

And so it has happened again that one of great spiritual stature, who was born into this time to lead millions back to the Awareness of You. How mischievous is the Maya, the Veiling, of Yours, that even he with the dark crown of hair and the orange robe, who has walked beside me in my dreams, guiding, protecting, laughing, seems to have been bitten by the serpent of lust and the glamour of powers.

You have sent me high at times and plunged me low, and I am beginning to remember that my/Your being neither rises nor falls. Yet I have not millions of followers or great titles about my name, so I can witness the turning of the wheel; and I can admit the wrong actions, and admit the wrong tendencies - the same tendencies I see in him.

However, to be caught in admirers’ definitions, what deceptions are needed to maintain the gilded walls.

‘Know there is One, but act as though there is two,’ Ramana warned. There is only You, and nothing in Truth affects You, the Self we all are. This I know behind my petty thoughts, my surging emotions and my decaying body. And I know that this teacher who is named the Father of Truth is none but the Self. Yet I would not send my young son, who is also the Self, to remain alone with him in a room.

Ramakrishna said that God is in everything and everything is in God, even the tiger. Still, you do not go and hug the tiger. You see God in the tiger from a distance.

The world is full of tigers and perhaps the most ferocious of the tigers are the fallen gurus. They are the ones who fall from standing in Your glow, to only intellectually talking about You. And since they are not fully established in You they pretend to be. Others, their followers who are rising in You in their awareness, are secretly seen by the fallen ones with contempt, and become held back to stay below the level of the teacher.

I know. I have seen it lurk, this spitefulness, in me. It is called jealousy. Jealousy arising from the feeling that another is loved more by You than I am. I know there is no other for You, nothing outside of You Who is All There Is, and so my knowing Self can only smile at such thoughts. However, if I was defined by a host of others and by myself as an Avatar, God, an Enlightened One, a Master, an Angel, perhaps I would not see such thoughts. And in the darkness of denial, they would stir their poisonous brew.

Dear God, maybe You have so many who are sitting in the place of Authority fall into depravity that each one of us, each individual expression of You will at last no longer look outward for the Answer. Maybe we just need to sit still, with body quiet, mind at rest, emotions calm, and listen. Listen to You whispering in the Silence:

Be still and know I am God.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Monday, April 11, 2011

Alien Children and Escaping the Horror of the World We Made

Dear God,

A few days ago I was invited to visit the Museum of Tolerance in Beverly Hills, California, along with a group of teachers. We were led by a man who survived one of the death camps in Poland during World War II. We started on the third floor and then, in a counterclockwise direction, we descended the spiral down into the dark depths of the holocaust, where millions of people were cut down like unwanted weeds in the garden of a madman .

How did this horror of the holocaust begin? What were the symptoms that led to the most appalling human behavior imaginable? These were the questions at the start of the tour in human hell.  The tour showed us how when a long-time smoldering intolerance of people and diversity finds a dry, despairing atmosphere bereft of hope, as was found in a depressed Germany, a conflagration is apt to erupt.

And what a fire! The incinerators burning 24 hours a day, day after day, year after year, ashes of bodies blown across the land in a most hideous smog. If I did not know better, or perhaps if I watched my family turn into ashes, I might say where the hell were You? Or do You even exist? Yet I do know better. Still the questions remain: How did this happen? Can it happen again? Where were You when all this was happening?


While the museum does well at showing how intolerance of different peoples will eventually lead to persecution of the few by the majority when times become ripe for it, and how important teaching tolerance and honoring  diversity will help prevent such a hell from happening again, as a Waldorf teacher I see our educational system as an enormous factor.

Down in that darkness, I heard the voices of men who spoke with such coldness about how to exterminate  people, seeking to find out in a logical way the most expedient way to do so. I saw pictures of doctors with the coldness of a scalpel, who experimented on children in the name of science, without a hint of remorse, of feeling.

It reminds me of the stories that most people say is only psychological aberrations. Stories of large headed beings, with big cold black eyes, no nose, no mouth, heartless, sexless, limbs spindly, who think not on their own but in a group mind, who love to capture humans and operate on them. These beings have no understanding why these individuals make such a fuss over being abducted against their will and object to being a subject of an experiment. Even if it is for a good cause.

Some people say these are some sort of alien race, who have come to earth for their own agenda, perhaps trying to find a way to save their race from extinction. I have no idea if that is true or not. I see them not as aliens, God, I see them as a shadow from the future, cast by the children our educational system is creating.

Children in public education are pumped now from the age of kindergarten with 
in-form-ation. Forming these citizens into  a limited thinking nation  of beings who consume what comes to them. Only 'academics' are important in school now. Subjects such as art, music, physical education, home economics, etc, are either eliminated or nearly so in schools. They are not seen as important. Only gaining information to pass tests is deemed by politicians and text book makers as relevant. So what if teachers and students do not enjoy the many hours of drudgery. They need to get used to it; someday the children will become working members of society. Oh sure, there are a few gold stars and some plastic toys for good results, just like there will be raises and Rolex watches in times to come. Just be the best. Don’t fall behind the others in your class. Compete, compete, compete. After all, it's a competitive world out there.

And since this information is ungodly boring and tasteless, for it goes against the urgings of the soul, just like with fast food that needs MSG to create an illusion of taste to the palate, computers and televisions with their fast-paced images and thrills and whistles are utilized more and more to capture the attention of the child. And less and less does the child interact with a human being. More and more the child is plugged into the machine.

The head is pumped and pumped with images, the children's eyes wide with information pouring in until they become black, like black holes. They smell nothing. Say nothing. Just watch images. More and more they become numb. They become heartless. The masculine is diminished by eliminating activities that test strength and courage and loyalty and critical thinking; as well as the feminine, where nurturing, intuition and creativity is all but ignored. They are simply test takers getting ready to start their lives when they contribute to society as workers, making the dollar strong by their working hours. Androgyny of the mind. And since the masculine and the feminine are barely manifest, the adolescent desperately seeks to connect with them through sex; yet they have no social skills to go with the act. Our children are not taught to relate with humans. Get the best score. Past the tests. Our school, or state, or nation's prestige depends upon the scores.

The earth is forgotten. How to do things for oneself and for others is ignored. Their arms dwindle and become nothing more than spidery legs, to move upon the web of what the group weaves. And all who are different than they are nothing but prey if they get caught in that web, subject to the slicing of the scalpel.

These are the children we are creating, God. They are desperately trying to warn us as they shoot up their schools, their teachers, their peers. Our children are becoming aliens to us.

Going into that hell in the base of that museum, I came out so glad that there is still an educational system like Waldorf education, to offer hope to our children. Where education is seen as a life-long pursuit, to be kept alive by creating an atmosphere of respect and love, of tolerance for all cultures and peoples. Where the pillars of goodness, beauty and truth still stand strong. Where children are taught to think with their heart. I am so grateful, God, that  each day I go to a school where we, the children and I,  sing and play with colors and play with numbers and create sacred geometry and explore the ancient cultures.


And while our educational system is a great contributor of suffering on this planet, You remind me again and again, my All, my Self, that believing that we are but bodies, subject to birth and death, of the vicarious conditions that the world and circumstances have to offer, that we are here and You are there, is the root of all suffering. Yes, and when we remember that we can never be outside of You, Who is greater than space itself, we will act as such. And how can people feeling whole with You, remembering that they are simply, like everything else, a unique expression of You within You, create such horrors again?

We were told of Victor Frankl, who was interned in a death camp, who watched his loved ones disappear, who knew that at any minute a guard could come in and take his life away. He came to a point of either acting in a purely survival way of being, of the animal way of fight or flight, or to be something else. He realized then he would go for something else, and that something was love. He became aware that the guards could take away everything from him except love. And he began to love everyone, even the guards. He didn't survive-he thrived. He found freedom without conditions.

This is the secret to end such horrors. When we live in a society that values that way of being more than acquiring things and competing with one another; a society that wants their children to remember that they are part of and with All That Is, then instead of hell on earth, we will create heaven.


So where were You in all this, dear God?


Waiting to be remembered. Like with Victor, or those who hid the refugees, or the guards who would not shoot, or those whose heads were held high as they marched naked to the showers, or the soldiers who wept as they liberated the camps and carried lovingly these bags of bones who barely breathed.

Always you wait, my Friend, like the sun that shines upon all alike, no matter what they do upon the earth. You Who have all of eternity to wait. Humming in the morning stillness for all to hear if they would sit still. Humming in the evening for all those who lay down their day's cares.

Humming: I AM THAT I AM.

May all of us, dear God, be still and listen. That we may end such madness. 

Saturday, April 9, 2011

The Great Awakening 2012

A good reminder that we are not our bodies. They are but garments, some day to be discarded.

Friday, April 8, 2011

Peter Joseph on Russia Today

Here is a different perspective of how to create a healthier society that is not based on all versus all.

Zeitgeist Ending ( Very Motivational )

Coyote Medicine-Learning to Laugh

Coyote the Trickster paid a visit to my dreams last night. I was attending a performance in a large hall packed with people. Before the show I was talking with the producer and told him I was a storyteller. He was pleased and asked me if I wanted to tell a story during the night's performance. I agreed since I had my Native American flute with me; I would tell one of my favorite tales of Coyote and Grandfather Rock. The only problem was that he was not sure of when I would go up, but it would probably be towards the end of the evening. There was a speaker who was going to talk about her new book about Coyote Medicine so my story would go well with her presentation. Meanwhile, I wandered to where the children were playing to be with them, and then the call came. I rushed out onto the stage and told the audience about Coyote. I told them that with Coyote Medicine you never knew what was going to happen, and in order to work with that medicine you have to be able to go with moment. And to have a good sense of humor.

And then I lifted my flute to my lips to start the tale--it wasn't my flute. I blew and blew and not a sound came out. I excused myself and quickly rushed off the stage to retrieve my flute. When I returned the whole auditorium was being cleared out; the chairs were all put away, the floor was being swept and most of the audience was gone. I just laughed and began to play my flute anyway.

That is Coyote Medicine. He loves to mess with folks, especially those of us who think we know everything and have everything under control. And, boy, is he present these days on this planet. Just when people think they have everything they need to have a happy life, Coyote will pull the rug right from under their feet. Coyote is throwing marbles on the floor of reality these days and is getting a kick at seeing the wild gyrations on the dance floor as people collide into one another. If you get all serious about things Coyote will send more tricks your way to try to lighten you up, and doesn't understand why you just get madder. Life is supposed to be amusing. He has such pity for those of us locked in security cells of what "should be" that he will do his utmost to free us from that prison of  expectations.

So if you want to have Coyote play tricks somewhere else, make sure you laugh a lot at the seriousness you take yourself to be, and stop trying to control your reality. And have fun.