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Babaji - The Unfathomable. Gertraud Reichel
Читать онлайн.Название Babaji - The Unfathomable
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isbn 9783946433583
Автор произведения Gertraud Reichel
Жанр Эзотерика
Издательство Автор
Babaji kept His own persona in the background: displays of honouring Him, acknowledgements and rejection meant nothing to Him. He permitted ritual acts of worship and devotion by His devotees for their sake only, to fulfil their wishes. Through His powers, Babaji guided each one who came to Him to perception of absolute, unchanging values and to knowledge of the unity of a I creation. To this end He changed the hearts of people, raised their consciousness by transmitting His energy to them, purified them and made them free for a new spiritual dimension.
The means for the transformation and purification of the mind and heart was selfless work. repetition of the name of God, in particular the mantra OM NAMAH SHIVAYA (Lord, et Thy will be done) and work with the elements, fire and water. Karma yoga, work as service to God, was practised daily and Babaji supervised all activities Himself. The short periods of leisure were spent reading religious scripts and chanting songs in honour of the Creator, as well as the mantra OM NAMAH SHIVAYA.
Water is symbolic in all religions as a cleanser for mind, body and spirit and Babaji used it often for this purpose. During the monsoon time in Haidakhan, He often led devotees by the hand through the turbulent Gautama Ganga River. This was significant both as purification in a holy river and as a crossing of the dangerous swirls of life made safe by a reliable leader. Babaji enabled further cleansing to take place by having people do work that required standing in water. Big stones and rocks had to be lifted out of the riverbed and carried to some other construction site. The ashram dwellers also bathed twice a day, before sunrise and at sunset, in the cool waters of the Gautama Ganga.
Fire ceremonies served the same purpose. Each morning, around 4.30 a.m., Babaji performed a fire ritual which is more ancient than the Vedas. The fire ceremony is also referred to as "havan" or "yagna". As the offerings are made - rice, fruits, incense - certain mantras are recited by the participants, who surrender their lower nature to the fire. Fire consumes everything and its transforming power leads to a rebirth on a higher level.
Anyone who came into contact with Babaji received higher vibrations from Him. Babaji may have placed His hand on a person, given the blessing mudra, presented a person with a gift, some object He had touched or worn, or the energy may have been transmitted by a look or a word. He might breathe on someone or tap their spine with His long stick; He might scream at a person or stroke them gently; all according to each person's make-up.
Through this targeted contact, the various energy centres of the body became activated so that they became capable of withstanding more intense streams of energy.
Personal contact with Babaji was fundamentally important for everyone who experienced this. He was constantly surrounded by people. He shared food with people, travelled with them in trains, buses and even on the back of a motorbike. He was so uncomplicated, almost like a child. He stayed overnight in the simplest mud huts, in villas, in apartments, inn palaces - wherever He happened to be invited to come and give blessing. And always behind Him, a swarm of people followed.
The devotee became aware that everything was a part of creation, without separation, without differentiation. The path of liberation is a narrow one. If one moved off it even for a second to court old habits and ideas, Babaji became unrelenting. Using a seemingly trivial matter as pretext, he would stage-manage some drama out of the blue, sending devotees away as soon as they had reached saturation point in the learning process, or letting them overcome their difficulties by immersion in daily duties. Babaji demanded the strictest inner and outer discipline. This often cost many tears. However, each knew for certain that he/ she was truly blessed.
"To devotees I give Abhaya Dhan. the bless mg of my protection, by which you will always be protected. So you should be fearless. l am responsible for you and your liberation. My protection never abandons you, not even fora second".
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The day came when my daughter and I set off for Haidakhan; we felt strongly drawn there but didn't really know why. Along the way we firmly resolved not to fall at Babaji's Feet or in any way touch them, as was the custom in India. It was out of the question.
Before we had quite reached the ashram itself, we caught our first glimpse of Babaji. He was riding on an elephant with lots of people crowding around Him. To prevent His seeing us, and to spare ourselves the embarrassment of having to prostrate ourselves at His Feet, we stayed inconspicuously in the background.
However, the honour that we failed to pay Him, He accorded us. From a distance He waved us over. "You go", I said to my daughter. I had barely spoken when He waved again meaning that I, too, should come to Him. And, to our great embarrassment, He motioned us to sit up there with Him on the elephant.
The first look into Babaji's eyes was overwhelming. In them I saw myself, my entire being. The fire in His eyes pierced my heart. My head was empty, my heart full. It was as if I had known Him forever.
We rode with Him across the Gautama River; He, chanting the mantra "Sita Ram". He motioned us to join in. Although I hadn't a clue who Sita or Ram were, could make out the sounds and so I sang along. He made me sing even louder: "Sita Ram Sita Rani Sita Ram ...."
He then spoke a little with us and asked us where we came from. Afterwards, I bowed down to Him, touched His Feet, His knee. My mind became empty and my heart full. I was happy, I was simply there; beyond that, I was aware of nothing.
He was very loving to us and showered us with honours which we felt far from deserving.
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After the havan (sacred fire ceremony), while everyone was still gathering around the fire meditating on the flames, I noticed Babaji quietly remove Himself from the crowd and walk along one of the garden paths lined with trees. The first rays of the rising sun were scattering the darkness. There was an odd silence as night gave way to day.
In this quiet stillness, Babaji moved in close behind a tree and parted its branches with the effect that it was He who became the trunk and crown of the tree.
Fascinated by these strange effects, I kept on watching and then I heard His words internally: "I am the essence of all Life .... see!"
And as I looked, the branches appeared to be bowing. down before Babaji. Yes, it really was so. How else could He, with only two hands, have pushed aside the many branches and their numerous young offshoots? .... Then, before my eyes, Nature appeared to awaken with a renewed exuberance and vigour.
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An Indian woman recounts the following story:
Yogis and sadhus seemed to be forever visiting our home, so much so that I was rather fed up and didn't want to know any more about them. One day, however, a relative persuaded me to go and see, as he put it, a certain "special" young yogi who had arrived in Bombay.
On entering the room, I immediately noticed a young yogi deep in meditation. As there was no space left at the back, I had to move to the front and ended up sitting right near him.
Traditionally, our family has always worshipped Shiva, so I began automatically to repeat the mantra OM NAMAH SHIVAYA. It was then that the yogi opened his eyes. His gaze fixed onto mine and it was as if fire streamed forth from his eyes. I sat as if rooted to the spot. How long I remained staring - a minute, an hour - I have no idea. I only became aware of suddenly beginning to cry. Normally, crying doesn't come easily to me; it's beneath my dignity. The whole time, the yogi kept looking at me. At the same time, my father, mother and brother, who were also present, each thought he was looking at them. All three had the same experience. The yogi shut his eyes again and eased into deep meditation.
I was fascinated to watch the people go up and bow down before him and how he, although in profound meditation, would raise his right hand in blessing. This gesture truly touched me - it was Shiva's mudra. Some time later the yogi stood up and returned to his room.
"Who is the Baba? Where does he come from?", I asked someone beside me.
"He is a Mahavatar, the one mentioned in Yogananda's Autobiography of a Yogi".
"It may be possible", I thought. Nevertheless,