Journeys into the bright world

Ruminating over this experience I concluded that it was worthwhile to have traced the contours of the lower side of the mandala. It made my notes that much the more complete. Nevertheless, it must not happen again. There was no doubt but that over three and a half months I had acquired an increased measure of control. Now the time had come to utilize this growing skill. And indeed, as it turned out the next "trip" was the sweetest, gentlest one of all.

Since a respite was obviously needed I spent the next week preparing a rough draft of the manuscript of this book and assessing the personal results of our "samadhi yoga" program. Realistically speaking, what changes had been produced?

Physically I was feeling remarkably fit. Friends remarked how well I was looking and I believed them. A mild overstimulation of the nervous system had to some extent interferred with my sleep cycle but it seemed to be under control. Evidently insomnia was a possible side effect that would have to be watched.

Psychologically there was a greater need for silence and solitude. It was easier to meditate, especially since I could so much better appreciate the need for repeated forays into the supra-mental realm in order to lighten the heavy batter of the mundane personality. Increasingly my moments of Self recollection felt like folding bubbles into an angel cake. That is, there has to be a regular up and down blending rhythm if the finished product is to rise properly when exposed to the fires of the spirit. Samadhi therapy is certainly no substitute for meditation, but it can supply the incentive to make meditation an integral way of life.

It also seemed as though the texture of my being was becoming looser-less like leather and more like chiffon. Walks were more enjoyable as my senses became permeated by the greenness of the forests, the splashing of brooks, the dampness of the air, the warmth of the sun and the fragrance of the early spring flowers. It was easier to empathize with the problems of others but harder to get "uptight" over the self-created growing pains of humanity. God was in charge of His universe and it was coming along just fine. I still had my own up and down moods but was less apt to forget how much these passing humors depend on chemistry. AH in all, the memory of the joy world, only a few molecules away, seemed to be a remarkably stabilizing factor.

We continued to be keenly aware of the controversial aspects of our research and of the havoc it could create in our personal lives, even though we were charging no money for our services and were making every possible effort to keep our operation entirely legitimate. In view of our financial pressures, concern for Howard's job was no Mickey Mouse affair; it was entirely justifiable. But we had already passed the point of no return. Since there was only one way to go it seemed as though we might as well walk on and enjoy the countryside through which we were passing without undue regard for the opposition which would eventually have to be faced.

Spiritually, there was less sense of ego and more of self. Since egotism is, in general, a source of frustration and aggravation this diminution of the "big I" could only be a relief. Knowing that existence goes on and on it really didn't seem to matter much what happened to "me."

Admittedly the development of the individual ego serves a necessary function in motivating human growth. Perhaps the sense of being an altogether separate entity can be compared with the pattern which a seamstress uses in creating an outfit. A certain form must be imposed on the material at hand if it is to serve its purpose. Once the job has been done, however, the pattern can be discarded. So it is with the ego. For my own part, I felt whatever I was going to be was fairly well established. Concern for name, fame and worldly accomplishment were approaching the vanishing point. Yet the discipline of daily endeavor held firm. Knowing that there is no such thing as oblivion provides a strong incentive to work in whatever world one happens to be traveling through. At the same time I felt content to be one of God's earthworms preparing the soil for a new season of growth.

The only personal goal that really seemed alluring to either of us, apart from fulfilling our karmic duties, was that isolated home on the river where Howard could fish to his heart's content, I could write and family and friends might occasionally visit. "Trust in the cosmos. Whatever will be, will be." How delightful to be no longer afraid of cliches I It's the being, not the doing, that counts now. Even though ambition seemed to have flown the coop I still felt productive and able to rejoice that our work was helping others.