Hi there, beautiful children of God, descendants of the Buddhas and Christ. I really wanted to talk to you some days ago, but I’ve been too busy, too busy. So today, I just cut my work in half and will make it up tomorrow. There’s nothing too urgent today, so I can talk to you, so that you know that I’m still here, alive.
One never knows for how long. Treasure your life and your time on Earth so that you can have enough opportunity to practice to elevate yourself and those around you spiritually. And many other aspects, such as virtues, morals, wisdom – that’s what you can bring to those you love and those fortunate to be around you, the high-level spiritual practitioners. And if you are still low-level, don’t worry; you will get there, if you’re sincere; where there is a will, there’s always a way. Just sometimes our body doesn’t listen to our will. Try to teach it what to do.
Now it’s summer, or when it’s too hot you could put a little bowl of cold water with some ice in it, if you have ice, and put a towel in it whenever you feel too hot, even if you’re already not covered by some cloth if you live alone, like I do. You can do anything you want, actually.
And if it’s too hot, you can leave the window open. And if you worry about ghosts and stuff, if you are a good practitioner, you shouldn’t be worried. But you could turn on the light in the garden so around your house would be lighted. Most ghosts are worried by the light, if they are outside your house. Never mind. There are ghosts also next to you or near you or next to your house. These are invisible things. Sometimes space doesn’t matter to them. But we can take refuge in the Heavenly Method of the inner Heavenly Light without light, and inner Heavenly Sound without sound. You know that, and you’ll be safe. Leave Supreme Master TV on in the background so you feel safer.
Actually, I believe that all of you feel safe and well, just like the way I did when I was younger. With the inner Heavenly Light and Sound Method, you should never worry about anything. When I was a little younger, sometimes I saw white figures around, almost transparent, but I never felt afraid at all. And after I became more enlightened than usual, I walked anywhere alone, even in the dark. Like in the Himalayas, I never had a flashlight or anything like that, couldn’t afford then! And in the Himalayan mountains and forests, in the evening it gets dark very fast. Well, when I was there, it was dark very fast. Sometimes I went to the library to borrow some books or read something there, and then even when they closed and I had to go home, it was a long way to walk. You don’t have buses and taxis the way you do in the cities. Over there, you walk, and even if you want a horse carriage or a horse-person, you have to go to a village, bigger village downtown, in order to order it or to rent one.
I lived in the forest in a mud house. Most of the time it was like that. And at night, when I went home, I just went. It was all dark. It’s darker than in the cities. Somehow, even if you don’t live within the city, you live near the city, the light from the city also can help you to see a little bit of the path. But in the Himalayas, the forest, it’s all dark, dark. Up to now, when I remember, I wonder how I got home. But this was how I lived before. I never felt afraid of anything. I never knew what it meant to be afraid.
When I was a kid, yes, for a little while because people always tell you ghost stories, tiger stories, witches stories, and scare the kids. So when I was going home, I was kind of scared, but just temporarily, very quickly went by, just as you age. When you’re young, the time passes so fast.
But in the Himalayas, you have nothing like that. In the jungle, especially, not. But I wonder how I got home. I just walked home. It seemed like my feet knew where to go. Just now I thought about it. I thought I must have been like a silly or crazy woman. I went to find God. I thought I would find it in India in the Himalayas. I never prepared myself. I didn’t even have a tent. I had just an umbrella, and I didn’t have a lot of money at all; I had to stretch it. So if I didn’t have a room somewhere in the Himalayas, I just had to sleep under the umbrella. At least the head didn’t get wet, and that’s important. Those days, I didn’t know what “fear” meant. And nowadays, living within the so-called civilization, you can feel fearful of people, of anything that could happen to you in the civilized society. In the Himalayas, you live in a mud house alone or with just a couple of people. And if you went out somewhere, if you wanted to go home, you had to pass through forests, mountains and rivers. And I did all that alone! Now, thinking about that, ooh… I’m not sure if I can do it again.
I was younger. And I loved that world so much – that free world, that fearless world, which I lost. I lost so many things, including that. But that kind of world is one of the most precious worlds to me. I didn’t know that knowing so many people could give you so much more luggage than when you are alone, even though you don’t carry any of their baggage. Nobody can see that. But it’s more burdensome than when you live alone almost like penniless. You have to count your pennies every day. You can’t spend more than how much you’ve already designed to spend.
At that time, I really didn’t have a lot of money, and I never wanted to ask my ex-husband for money for the Himalayan trip. So if I had money, I spent; if I didn’t have, that’s it, I had to go. But because I lived so frugally – some (vegan) chapatis self-made in front of the mud house with some dry wood in the forest – then you can last a long time with very little money. In India, it’s much cheaper than in other countries. And if you are in a mountainous area like the Himalayas, it’s even more reasonable. But if you go deeper into the Himalayas, it could be more troublesome because up there you have no restaurant, no food – nothing is available.
Even now and then, you’re lucky to find someone on the street, just in the middle of the forest street – if the forest has a street – maybe there’s a young man with a metal container with some wheat flour in it, and then you can have maybe one chapati only – if you’re lucky, if you came early. If you come later, all the pilgrims will be almost like jumping on his stove and asking for food. Then in no time, that little metal container of his will be gone. Everybody has to go, he also.
In those forest paths, sometimes you see no one. Rarely, now and then, you might be lucky to chance upon a monk, some elderly monk, and he has only a plastic sheet on top of his head built from some branches of trees nearby by some of his devotees or maybe himself. And then under that piece of plastic, there is a little stove, and the coals should be hot and burn all the time, even though covered under the ashes, because he would never have a chance to make fire again if that fire went out, if the coals went out. Because nobody would go there and give him; there’s no one around him for miles on end.
That kind of path is only visible in the real summer after some snow has run away deep into the Ganges River somewhere nearby. Then you can walk on it. This is only for pilgrimage. Nobody ever walks those paths. Some are very remote and very dangerous as well. And the monk, I think he only stayed there temporarily, because the pilgrims come and go and maybe could help him also to survive sometimes, until he goes further up into Gaumukh or somewhere higher up in the Himalayas, where no one, no soul ever visits. Those times, I treasure so much, like the best time of my life.
Photo Caption: Reaching Out for the Real Beauty.