Command Over The Celestial Power

One day while Baba was sitting outside his room, he saw a woman dressed in a red saree standing by his side. The face of the woman was pockmarked. Baba recognized her as none other than Sitala Devi, the demigoddess (celestial being) who is the harbinger of smallpox. Sitala Devi said to Baba, “I want to leave this place.” Both of them remained silent. After some time passed, the goddess stepped in front of Baba. 

Baba reproved her in a very serious tone, “I am here. Do you think I am nothing?” 

The goddess immediately stepped back, pleading, “Will you not allow me to leave this place? Am I to remain imprisoned here?” Baba replied to her, “No, you need not stay here. Just take the route of the lower bank of the river Chawal Baghini. Under no circumstances should you go over the plains where there is human habitation.” 

A few days after this incident a family living on the lower bank of the river experienced a severe attack of smallpox. When they came to Baba and reported the smallpox, Baba inquired about the location of their hut and was informed that it was on the lower bank of the river. Baba advised them to leave the hut immediately and run to a place of safety. They were the only family living on the route which Baba had instructed Sitala Devi to take when she left Baradi. 

This incident demonstrates Baba’s command over celestial beings. Even demigods and goddesses obeyed his command. It should be noted that since that time there has not been any epidemic of smallpox in that area. Every year prior to Baba’s coming to Baradi, however, a virulent outbreak of smallpox had swept the area. The epidemics had often claimed the lives of hundreds, even thousands, of innocent villagers. 

An individual reaching the state of Absolute Brahman enjoys supremacy not only over ordinary mortals, but also over all the demigods and goddesses of the celestial plane. Vijay Krishna Goswami’s vision of all the gods and goddesses in the body of Baba Lokenath also indicates that celestial beings cherish the Presence of one who, in the human body, has achieved the highest state of attainment, the state of Brahman.

"The Incredible Life of a Himalayan Yogi: The Times, Teachings and Life of Living Shiva: Baba Lokenath Brahmachari" by Shuddhaanandaa Brahmachari, Ann Shannon. (pg 200)

Baba Lokenath; Rajani Brahmachari

Baba Lokenath; Rajani Brahmachari

Baba’s Cure For Habit And Addiction

(Baba Lokenath; Rajani Brahmachari)

Rajani had the habit of smoking tobacco. One day, he had the urge to smoke tobacco three times while with Baba. Each time, Baba said to him, “What kind of a devotee are you? You don’t even offer me tobacco?” Each time, Rajani prepared tobacco in his own cup and offered it to Baba. Baba then offered the tobacco back to him. Rajani quietly accepted it. Then, as he prepared to leave the room to smoke outside, Baba called to him, “You have to smoke right in front of me.” After this happened three times, Rajani’s lifelong habit of smoking left him forever. Baba, in his inimitable, compassionate and playful way, had helped Rajani rid himself of an unhealthy habit that was interfering with his spiritual growth. 

Baba’s guidance of Rajani, though playful and tender, has beautiful layers of meaning, instruction, and hope for anyone struggling with an addiction. The Satguru does not demand that we bring only our best, complete sacrifices to the altar of his presence. He asks for ALL that we are, good and bad, strong and incorrigibly weak. Baba tells us, through Rajani, that we must never allow our faults, or our guilt and shame for having them, to keep us away from the altar of the Divine, even for an instant. Instead, we are to bring our most stubborn self-indulgences to him, in the very instant of our failure to control them — again and again, if we have to — until we are healed by his grace. There is no sin so great, no weakness so entrenched, that the Satguru cannot and will not heal in those who remain lovingly in his Presence.

Baba Lokenath

From his state of Supreme Divinity, Baba declared, “The One is everywhere. There is no second. Who will show kindness to whom? Have you ever seen a person in this world who is kind to himself? I do not find the existence of anything other than Me in this entire creation. I have traveled in the hills and mountains, in the jungles and forests, all over the world, but could only see Myself. You will not understand why I love you all so much, why I am sharing your miseries and unhappiness.”

The ingrained seeds of karma work themselves out through a natural process and, eventually, the thirst for the pleasure diminishes. As the seeker passes through stages of cause and effect, experiencing the inner and outer consequences of attachment, the need to awaken to higher truths asserts itself. The longing gradually becomes paramount for deeper peace and harmony than is available through material desire and its fulfillment. Through the Grace of God and Guru, the seeker’s determination to give up the unwanted desires becomes resolute. Her/his efforts become more powerful and single-pointed. They draw the Guru’s grace to be able to rise above the karma. This is exactly what happened in Lokenath’s case. Guru Bhagwan remained a witness to Lokenath’s process, allowing and guiding it until the disciple exhausted the seeds of karma through his own efforts. 

One need not feel that the young girl was abandoned by Lokenath after their karma together was burned. Just as Lokenath had to work out his karma, the girl also had to realize that any relationship with a renounced monk was against the norm of their society. It would only have led to more unhappiness in her life. She received Lokenath’s company and friendship as long as the debts on both sides were being paid. In Hindu society of the Eighteenth Century, widows had to lead a life of renunciation, following a vegetarian diet, and strictly observing celibacy. Love and devotion to God were their only comfort. The company of Lokenath ultimately inspired the God-seed in her. Lokenath moved ahead on the path of truth as a wandering mendicant. The woman, transformed by the touch of a sannyasin, offered her life to the Divine to reach the state of desirelessness.

Baba Lokenath:

“It was my fate that my Guru brought me to a place where a young widow lived. Guru would often go away from the place where we lived. That gave me the chance to spend time with that young girl and have a lot of fun. This went on for a period of almost three years. Gradually, my urge in that area of life began to diminish. Suddenly I had the deep thought ‘What am I doing? Have I renounced my parents and home and come with this Holy Master for all these trifles?’ I felt a deep sense of frustration. I started requesting of my Guru that we move to another place without further delay. For quite a few days, he paid a deaf ear to my requests. Later, he intentionally delayed the move by saying, ‘ We will go tomorrow.’ My deep urge to leave the place increased. When I became adamant and strong in my decision, Gurudev pretended to be sick. 

“One day I felt an uncontrollable urge to leave. In a harsh manner, I said, ‘I cannot stay here for another moment.’ Guru said, ‘I am feeling very sick, we will stay here for two more days.’ Blind with anger, I took a big stick in my hand and ran towards my Guru saying, ‘Whenever you move in the village, or beg alms, or even cook for us, you don’t feel sick. But the moment I say, ‘Let us move from this place,’ you start feeling ill. Today I will kill you and kill myself too.’ My old Master ran away, but soon returned and said, ‘Let’s go, now it has happened.’ 

”When we started moving out of the village, I asked Gurudev, ‘All these days you did not care what I said. Why did you listen to me today?’ My Guru said, ‘You never said it the way you did it today, my child. You had given up pleasures but the pleasures and the attachments did not give you up. Today it has happened.’”

This important statement by Guru Bhagwan needs deep contemplation. It is extremely common for all human beings to realize that our attachments lead to unhappiness in our lives. People at all levels of sadhana struggle to give up myriad habits, which they know cause pain for themselves and others, and which obstruct the internal peace which is the foundation of real spiritual progress. Most often, even though the habit is given up, it returns — sometimes more vigorously. In spite of the firmest resolutions, even yogis in a high state of achievement fall. Until one is fully and naturally established in the state of egolessness and desirelessness, many possibilities to fall are open. That is why the Upanishads (the Vedas) liken the path of spirituality to one of walking on a razor’s edge. The Bhagavad Gita tells us that this illusive Maya is insurmountable without the Grace of God and Guru. 

Guru Bhagwan’s wisdom in allowing Lokenath the time to fully release his karma reminds us that it is not enough to just give up anything that appears to cause us pain and unhappiness. The tendencies that manifest in the mind are rooted in the seeds of karma that the soul carried to this body. As circumstances and situations become more and more provocative, the inner, dormant tendencies of desire awaken. They stretch out their tentacles to draw the object of pleasure within reach until the desire is fulfilled. As the desires are again and again quenched the thirst increases, beginning the cycle again.

Once, when I was driving after midnight, I approached a mountain. As I drove toward it, I saw that almost half the mountain was ablaze! I am not known to shy away from danger, so I continued to drive. But I was cautious, because I knew I was in a car full of flammable fuel and I had my little girl in the backseat. It was misty and the farther I drove up the mountain, the fire always seemed to be a little farther away. Then I realized that although all the terrain that I saw from down below looked like it was on fire, as I drove into it, there was nothing at all.

When I reached the actual site of the fire, I saw that a truck had broken down. The driver and a couple of others had built a small fire for themselves because of the cold. As the mist reached dew point, the million droplets in the air, each one acting as a prism, created such a phenomenal illusion that a little fire seemed like a major conflagration. From down below, it looked like the whole mountain was aflame! That incident left me astounded.

Creation is just like that, hugely magnified. Those who have looked within themselves closely and attentively realized there was no need to look at the macro version. The entire cosmos is just a magnified projection of a little occurrence happening within you—the play of five elements. This is all it takes to make a throbbing full-fledged human being!


Sadhguru - Inner Engineering book

Sahadeva’s Wisdom

This is how Sahadeva had acquired his wisdom: One day, while sitting in the forest at the campfire, their father Pandu told the boys, “These sixteen years, I have not only stayed away from your mothers, I have done the sadhana of brahmacharya, which has given me enormous inner power and a tremendous amount of insight, vision and wisdom. But I am not a teacher. I do not know how to transmit all this to you. But the day I die, all you have to do is take a piece of my flesh and eat it. If you make my flesh a part of your flesh, you will have the wisdom that I have gathered without having to work for it.”

When Pandu died and his cremation was happening, overcome by emotions, almost everyone completely forgot about this. Only Sahadeva, the brooding youngest of the lot, when seeing an ant carrying a small piece of Pandu’s flesh, remembered what his father had said. He grabbed this little piece of flesh from the ant and ate it. His wisdom and strength grew. He could have become a sage among kings, but Krishna saw that this wisdom would stop the flow of destiny. That is why he intervened and told Sahadeva at some point, “This is my command: never express your wisdom. If someone asks you a question, always answer them with another question.”

From then on, Sahadeva always answered questions with questions that very few had the wisdom to understand. Those who understood saw how wise he was. Those who did not understand thought he was only trying to create ambiguity about everything. A whole shastra, called “Sahadeva’s Wisdom,” accrued from that. Even today, in South India, if someone is acting too wise, they say, “He is acting like Sahadeva.” This is because people thought he was trying to act wise by answering in questions. But in reality, he was following Krishna’s command to never reveal his wisdom and always answer questions with questions, so that they did not understand that he was answering them, unless they had the wisdom to grasp what he meant.

Time and the Ego

Can time be said really to exist, or is it but a limitation of this lower consciousness, and all that we call time—past, present and future alike—is “but one eternal Now”; I wish only to show that when the ego is freed from physical trammels, either during sleep, trance or death, he appears to employ some transcendental measure of time which has nothing in common with our ordinary physiological one. A hundred stories might be told to prove this fact; it will be sufficient if I give two—the first a very old one (related, I think, by Addison in The Spectator), the other an account of an event which happened but a short time ago, and has never before appeared in print.

It seems that in the Koran there is a wonderful narrative concerning a visit paid one morning by the prophet Mohammed to heaven, during which he saw many different regions there, had them all very fully explained to him, and also had numerous lengthy conferences with various angels; yet when he returned to his body, the bed from which he had risen was still warm, and he found that but a few seconds had passed—in fact, I believe the water had not yet all run out from a jug which he had accidentally overturned as he started on the expedition! 

Now Addison’s story runs that a certain sultan of Egypt felt it impossible to believe this, and even went to the impolitic length of bluntly declaring to his religious teacher that the tale was a falsehood. The teacher, who was a great doctor learned in the law, and credited with miraculous powers, undertook to prove on the spot to the doubting monarch that the story was, at any rate, not impossible. He had a large basin of water brought, and begged the sultan just to dip his head into the water and withdraw it as quickly as he could. 

The king accordingly plunged his head into the basin, and to his intense surprise found himself at once in a place entirely unknown to him—on a lonely shore, near the foot of a great mountain. After the first stupefaction was over, what was probably the most natural idea for an oriental monarch came into his head—he thought he was bewitched, and at once began to execrate the doctor for such abominable treachery. However, time passed on ; he began to get hungry, and realized that there was nothing for it but to find some means of livelihood in this strange country. 

After wandering about for some time, he found some men at work felling trees in a wood, and applied to them for assistance. They set him to help them, and eventually took him with them to the town where they lived. Here he resided and worked for some years, gradually amassing money, and at length contrived to marry a rich wife. With her he spent many happy years of wedded life, bringing up a family of no less than fourteen children, but after her death he met with so many misfortunes that he at last fell into want again, and once more, in his old age, became a wood-porter. 

One day, walking by the seaside, he threw off his clothes and plunged into the sea for a bath; and as he raised his head and shook the water from his eyes, he was astounded to find himself standing among his old courtiers, with his teacher of long ago at his side, and a basin of water before him. It was long—and no wonder—before he could be brought to believe that all those years of incident and adventure had been nothing but one moment’s dream, caused by the hypnotic suggestion of his teacher, and that really he had done nothing but dip his head quickly into the basin of water and draw it out again.

Dreams by C.W. Leadbeater.
Pg 64

ENLIGHTENMENT AND COMPASSION

As soon as a person becomes capable of knowing himself, a unique energy — which is the greatest energy in this world and the greatest miracle — is achieved by him. The miracle is: he can be when he wishes, and he can not be when he wishes. He can come into existence when he pleases and he can lose himself in the void when he pleases. Now you sleep and get up, but not voluntarily. If your sleep is done then you wake up, and you cannot go back to sleep again. Just as you are with sleeping and waking, the one who knows himself disappears into the void and comes into existence at his own will.

There is a story in the life of Buddha: When Buddha reached heaven and the guard opened the door, Buddha turned his back to heaven. He said, “I will not enter until each and every person is liberated. When the last person enters I will follow behind him.”

This is a beautiful story. In this world there are two types of self-realized persons, and all religions have known these two kinds. One attains self-realization and becomes one with the void; the other type attains self-realization but still remains in existence to help others. The first type of enlightened person is called kaivalya, he who has known the ultimate aloneness, by the Jainas. There have been so many kaivalyas who have attained enlightenment and have disappeared into the void. They have reached their destination. They enter and don’t wait at the door.

The Jainas have named twenty-four of these enlightened souls, ‘tirthankaras’. These twenty-four waited at the door. They are the ones who guided others, who paved the way for them. The Buddhists have also recognized these two types. One is the arhat, who attains self-realization and merges into the void; the other is the bodhisattva, the one who waits for others.

So there are two kinds of self-realized souls. When you also reach this ultimate state, if a desire to help others — for the urge to help others is also a desire — remains within you, you will wait. If it does not, you will merge with the void. This is why the true master tries to develop those of his disciples who have the greatest capacity for compassion into bodhisattvas.

Osho – The Great Path

Story:

There was a poor man who wanted some money; and, somehow, he had heard that if he could get hold of a ghost, he might command him to bring money or anything else he liked; so he was very anxious to get hold of a ghost. He went about searching for a man who would give him a ghost; and at last he found a sage, with great powers, and besought his help. The sage asked him what he would do with a ghost. "I want a ghost to work for me; teach me how to get hold of one, sir; I desire it very much," replied the man. But the sage said, "Don't disturb yourself, go home." The next day the man went again to the sage and began to weep and pray, "Give me a ghost; I must have a ghost, sir, to help me." At last the sage was disgusted, and said, "Take this charm, repeat this magic word, and a ghost will come, and whatever you say to him he will do. But beware; they are terrible beings, and must be kept continually busy. If you fail to give him work he will take your life." The man replied, "That is easy; I can give him work for all his life." Then he went to a forest, and after long repetition of the magic word, a huge ghost appeared before him, and said, "I am a ghost; I have been conquered by your magic; but you must keep me constantly employed; the moment you fail to give me work I will kill you." The man said, "Build me a palace," and the ghost said, "It is done; the palace is built." "Bring me money," said the man. "Here is your money," said the ghost. "Cut this forest down, and build a city in its place." "That is done," said the ghost; "anything more?" Now the man began to be frightened and thought he could give him nothing more to do; he does everything in a trice. The ghost said, "Give me something to do or I will eat you up." The poor man could find no further occupation for him, and was frightened. So he ran and ran and at last reached the sage, and said, "Oh sir, protect my life!" The sage asked him what the matter was, and the man replied, "I have nothing to give the ghost to do. Everything I tell him to do he does in a moment, and he threatens to eat me up if I do not give him work." Just then the ghost arrived, saying, "I'll eat you up," and he would have swallowed the man. The man began to shake, and begged the sage to save his life. The sage said, "I will find you a way out. Look at that dog with a curly tail. Draw your sword quickly and cut the tail off and give it to the ghost to straighten out." The man cut off the dog's tail and gave it to the ghost, saying, "Straighten that out for me." The ghost took it and slowly and carefully straightened it out, but as soon as he let it go, it instantly curled up again. Once more he laboriously straightened it out, only to find it again curled up as soon as he attempted to let go of it. Again he patiently straightened it out but as soon as he let it go, it curled up again. So he went on for days and days, until he was exhausted and said, "I was never in such trouble before in my life. I am an old veteran ghost, but never before was I in such trouble. I will make a compromise with you," he said to the man. "You let me off and I will let you keep all I have given you and will promise not to harm you. The man was much pleased, and accepted the offer gladly.

Conclusion:

This world is like a dog's curly tail, and people have been striving to straighten it out, for hundreds of years; but when they let it go, it has curled up again. How could it be otherwise? One must first know how to work without attachment, then he will not be a fanatic. When we know that this world is like a dog's curly tail and will never get straightened, we shall not become fanatics. If there were no fanaticism in the world it would make much more progress than it does now. It is a mistake to think that fanaticism can make for the progress of mankind. On the contrary it is a retarding element creating hatred and anger, and causing people to fight each other, and making them unsympathetic. We think that whatever we do or possess is the best in the world, and what we do not do or possess is of no value. So, always remember the instance of the curly tail of the dog whenever you have a tendency to become a fanatic. You need not worry or make yourself sleepless about the world; it will go on without you. When you have avoided fanaticism then alone will you work well. It is the level-headed man, the calm man, of good judgment and cool nerves, of great sympathy and love, who does good work and so does good to himself. The fanatic is foolish and has no sympathy; he can never straighten the world, nor himself become pure and perfect.

A legend tells how once Nârada said to Krishna, "Lord, show me Maya." A few days passed away, and Krishna asked Narada to make a trip with him towards a desert, and after walking for several miles, Krishna said, "Narada, I am thirsty; can you fetch some water for me?" "I will go at once, sir, and get you water." So Narada went. At a little distance there was a village; he entered the village in search of water and knocked at a door, which was opened by a most beautiful young girl. At the sight of her he immediately forgot that his Master was waiting for water, perhaps dying for the want of it. He forgot everything and began to talk with the girl. All that day he did not return to his Master. The next day, he was again at the house, talking to the girl. That talk ripened into love; he asked the father for the daughter, and they were married and lived there and had children. Thus twelve years passed. His father-in-law died, he inherited his property. He lived, as he seemed to think, a very happy life with his wife and children, his fields and his cattle and so forth. Then came a flood. One night the river rose until it overflowed its banks and flooded the whole village. Houses fell, men and animals were swept away and drowned, and everything was floating in the rush of the stream. Narada had to escape. With one hand be held his wife, and with the other two of his children; another child was on his shoulders, and he was trying to ford this tremendous flood. After a few steps he found the current was too strong, and the child on his shoulders fell and was borne away. A cry of despair came from Narada. In trying to save that child, he lost his grasp upon one of the others, and it also was lost. At last his wife, whom he clasped with all his might, was torn away by the current, and he was thrown on the bank, weeping and wailing in bitter lamentation. Behind him there came a gentle voice, "My child, where is the water? You went to fetch a pitcher of water, and I am waiting for you; you have been gone for quite half an hour." "Half an hour! " Narada exclaimed. Twelve whole years had passed through his mind, and all these scenes had happened in half an hour! And this is Maya.