Read Shambhala Online

Authors: Brian E. Miller

Shambhala (7 page)

 

THE SUN WASHES
a warm greeting upon Bahi’s face as he slowly opens his eyes to see Kamini floating about flowers, “Was it all a dream?” he thinks, rubbing his eyes and realizing it’s just a butterfly that looks similar.

“Yes, it’s all a dream, Bahi,” the Baba says, again reading his thoughts as he sits meditatively behind him.

“So then, none of this exists, Baba?” Bahi asks, stretching up to face the Baba.

The Baba laughs, “Sure it exists. You see that butter dish?” The Baba points to the table set with yet again another feast.

“Yes, I see it,” Bahi confirms, noticing the elaborately carved wooden dish.

“Well, we look at that collection of parts and we say
butter dish
because to say pass me the
round circle brown thing with the carvings on
it
would be absurd in our conventional world, wouldn’t it?” Bahi nods in silent agreement. “So we label things, and then we are convinced that they exist from their own side, just like you.”

“But I do exist. Look, here I am,” Bahi says playfully lifting his left arm up with his right hand and dropping it down.

“Yes, Bahi sits there, and I see a collection of parts and say
Bahi
, but the way my mind sees Bahi is different than how Bahi actually exists.”

“I don’t follow, Baba.”

“Come. Sit and eat. I will explain.”

Bahi sits before the great breakfast feast. A large piece of delicious chocolate cake overflows with dark icing on a plate in from of him.

“Now take this cake for example. Your eye sees the colors and forms and sends that signal to your memory storage, and all your past experiences of cake come up and says
chocolate cake
, and you assume to know how it’s going to taste because of the past experiences. Yet, in reality it may taste completely different. Perhaps the baker left out the sugar. What a different experience, indeed, huh?” Bahi studies the cake, hoping the baker did not leave out the sugar. “We even go so far as to think that this cake will bring us happiness.”

Bahi begins to grab at it, and it disappears, leaving a grimace on his face as he looks up to the Baba in surprise.

“But take the cake away and you suffer, because you attach to it as a source of lasting fulfillment and happiness. Grasping for something that does not exist from its own side. Now the level of suffering is different than in other scenarios, but it’s still there.”

The cake reappears in front of Bahi. “Now, sure this cake exists, but the attachment and craving that you blindly follow thinking this cake will bring you happiness is an illusion. For you may eat it and feel temporarily elated, but keep stuffing your face with it, and soon you will feel sick, and it will become a source of pain and suffering. So I ask you: is the cake a source of happiness or is that feeling coming from within?”

“I like cake,” Bahi says, missing the point.

“This alone proves this logic. I do not like chocolate cake, so when I see it, it creates an aversion in my mind and I think, ‘yuk’, but this is not how it exists. So who is right? You, who thinks it’s a source of pleasure and happiness, or me, who thinks it’s a source of disgust and pain?”

“Uhm, we are both right?” Bahi concludes.

“We are both wrong,” the Baba goes on. “This cake is just a cake, and the attachments we place on this cake are lies, stories our minds have created, great fantasies of how we believe this cake to exist. And we are doing this with everyone and everything.”

Bahi thinks deeply now as the Baba goes on, “We think this cake inherently exists. We think it’s
cake
, a fixed thing, but, Bahi—point to the cake for me.”

Bahi smirks and points, dipping his finger into the rich chocolate icing.

“So is it the icing? If I put icing on a plate and say, ‘Here’s your cake,’ would you agree?”

“No, Baba, I wouldn’t. That would be silly,” Bahi says before sticking his iced finger in his mouth. “Mmm, didn’t leave out the sugar,” he says in delight as the Baba goes on.

“If I put the top, breaded layer on the plate and say ‘Here’s the cake,’ it would be quite different from this, wouldn’t it?” Bahi nods in agreement. “So we see a collection of parts: we see the top layer, bottom layer, and the icing, and we call it
cake
and assume to know everything about it. But if the cake were fixed, then it would always be here, but it is only here depending on causes and conditions.”

“How do you mean?” Bahi asks, now fully engaged.

“This cake was made by my servants, who spent all morning making the batter, making the icing, both of which contain numerous ingredients that have come from other places, traveled from faroff places to reach here in vehicles that probably killed millions of bugs and sentient beings, just like Kamini, in their travels. Let’s look at just the batter, the grains, the sugar. We can trace them back. They once grew in a field that was cared for by a farmer, gaining nutrients from the sun, watered by the rains, fed by the soil that consists of countless living organisms that decayed to create its nutrients, and all of them can be traced back like this as well. Before it was growing, it was a seed, and that seed came from another plant, and so on and so on, beginningless, one thing connected to the next in an endless cycle of interconnection. All things depend on other things to exist. So the causes and conditions for this cake to sit before you are endless. And in fact, if you check, this cake can be linked to everything. It can all be traced back, and you will never find a beginning, like you, Bahi. You think you were created by your parents, but trace it back starting with you now, your body is a compilation of all the massive amounts of food you have eaten in this lifetime thus far, and as we know all that food can be traced back like an infinite web too. At one time you came from your parents, fed by the food your mother ate, composed of the DNA of your father and mother, who came from their father and mother and so on and so forth. It’s all interdependent, everything depends on everything else to exist, nothing is separate from this, and so all you are is due to the kindness of others. Your language, your genetics, your name, all given to you by others. Those who made your food that composes your body, the bugs and animals that died for it to come to your plate, and so on. And so I ask: ‘Who is Bahi?’”

Bahi sits trying to make sense of it all, “I, I am just a collection of things due to the kindness of others?”

“Well that’s a start, young one. Take it slow. This is the opposite of what your modern world beats into you every day: the separate self that we perceive. We’re led to believe that the self is not dependant on anything to exist, and so we breed depression, loneliness, and a slew of other sufferings, feeling separate from our happiness. You are fed these lies day in and day out, and what’s more is you believe them. Now eat up and be grateful for all the sentient beings that brought this meal to you. All the beings that died when the grain was picked, and so on. So, to repay the kindness of all sentient beings, we will enjoy this meal, because there is nothing wrong with enjoyment or pleasures. It’s the lie that it will bring us lasting happiness, that it’s the source of our happiness, when in fact the source is within you. So enjoy each moment, not attaching to it, because attachment is illogical and will bring suffering and separation and will cause us to worry when it will be gone. And when it is gone we will fret, so unattach and just enjoy each blissful moment in being completely present. Renounce the past and the future. Renounce, meaning to relax in the present and truly enjoy, truly experience pleasures. What we call pleasure in our world is mere attachment and fear: mind out of the present moment. This is not pleasure. Those who unattach truly enjoy the pleasures of life. Bliss is now.”

Bahi focuses his mind in the present moment, and colors seem deeper, the air smells sweeter as he picks up the piece of moist cake, opening his mouth—when in a flash it disappears, “Be willing to give it all away without any sense of loss, and know it is not the answer you seek. It’s all impermanent, and in perfect rapture. The answers to your happiness and peace are not external.”

Bahi sits frustrated and hungry. The Baba lets out a deep belly laugh as the cake reappears. “And so all beings can enjoy such pleasures, let us feast to repay the kindness of others. Renunciation is to stop constantly searching and seeking objects and things outside of ourselves as a source of happiness, because we have been doing this for eons and still haven’t found the answers to lasting peace there—have we?”

Bahi nods his head “no,” content with the piece of cake again in front of him. The Baba continues, “So we abide in the bliss in this moment, enjoy, savor, and be OK when it’s gone, be present, young Bahi.”

Poking the cake to make sure it’s real, he quickly bites it. The sensation of pleasure and deliciousness runs down his tongue. A smile washes over his face as the Baba sips his tea and watches him devour the cake.

“I can tell you this for a hundred years, but you must experience it in order to make it true, and at Shambhala you shall experience this and more,” the Baba explains.

“Please, Baba, do you have a map or directions to follow?”

“Every day close your eyes and try to find the
I
you are so concerned about. Try to locate the body first. Ask yourself: Am I the hands? Am I the head? If there were just a head here, could I call this
Bahi
? Am I my legs? If only my legs were here, could I call this
Bahi
? Picture yourself cutting off all your parts in search for your
I
. Then notice the pile of parts, and blood, and bone, and still none of these is Bahi. Then contemplate the following question: Am I my mind? Well, the mind is said to have six consciousnesses, so if you were this, then there would be six of you. So you conclude you are not the mind either. So you have found an entire collection of parts now and none of them is Bahi. So you can’t put together a bunch of parts that is not Bahi and get Bahi. That is not logical. That’s like having ten horses and putting them together to get a sheep. Illogical. Ten things that are not sheep can’t become a sheep. This is a bit boggling at first,” the Baba says, watching as Bahi’s mind struggles to keep up. “Go slow and remember the interconnection of all things.”

Bahi looks tense as he follows. The Baba goes on. “This will bring you to find there is no
I
. Like the cake, it’s there. Bahi definitely exists, but just not the way you perceive Bahi to exist. This is liberation. The self you grasp at, the separate, fixed self that suffers in seperation from it’s happiness, does not exist. So practice in this way. And when you get to that space, that space of truth, the space of limitless possibilites, stay there in that empty space that was once occupied by delusions of a fixed self. In this space, you will see Shambhala. You will gain the map and be led to this land of pure bliss where all your questions will be fulfilled.

Bahi stops in mid-chew. “Soooo, OK then, but I do exist, right?”

The Baba again laughs. “Yes, Bahi, you exist conventionally, just not the way you or others perceive you too. When we see others, we have all these notions of how they exist or how they should exist, like when you met me at first and I didn’t fit your mold of a Baba. Bahi, this is the surest way to Shambhala. Wise masters have secreted away maps. Yet this technique will be sure to guide you there. The map will be clear to your mind, I promise.”

“What if it isn’t?” Bahi asks, uncertain.

“Stop relating to your doubts and fears. You are not your doubts and fears. You are a limitless, unbounded being. Creating a mere map of Shambhala is at the very least of your vast abilities. Practice this meditative technique and trust me. I would not lead you astray. When you realize you are not a limited, fixed self, that fixed
I
you always relate to, you realize you are constantly changing—limitless with limitless ability. So don’t limit yourself with your thoughts. You are not your thoughts. Now come, the morning grows late and the journey is long.”

The Baba stands up and walks toward a beautiful, flowered bush that grows out of a soft fountain running water into a koi pond with purple and white lotuses. Bahi walks comfortably over to him and observes the beauty. The Baba gently extends his hand. “Take this grain of rice, for when food is scarce, this will sustain you.” “I don’t think a grain of rice will sustain my hunger,” Bahi says laughing, knowing his appetite.

“The only reason you have even a morsel of food, a grain of rice, is because you have been generous and have given in the past. Action begets action. Now trust when you smash this upon a surface. A great feast will lie before you. And this, Bahi, is your doing, for what we do now we create later, and what we have now we have created from the past. And you, my friend, have been very generous in the past, I assure you.”

“If you know my past, please tell me who I am!” Bahi pleads.

“I am talking about the lives before this one. You have been in this web for a long time, struggling in different forms, and now you struggle as Bahi in this life. As for who you are, only you can discover this. And when you reach Shambhala, all of your questions will be fulfilled, I assure you. Be like this lotus,” the Baba points out a white lotus growing from the small pond. “This lotus needs mud to grow. You can not plant it on the concrete. Yet, this lotus rises up out of the mud to shine its beauty upon the world. The mud is much like our suffering or struggle. Suffering plays an important role in bringing about your compassion and understanding, but we can’t stay in the mud, we must rise up and extend our beauty to the world. So rise up, young Bahi, and go now. Shambhala awaits you.”

“Thank you, Baba, I cannot. . .”

“Shhh. . .” the Baba interjects. “We speak many words, but words are empty. Actions, my friend, actions of generosity, compassion, and so forth . . . one action of kindness is worth a million words. Go now and remember this, compassionate one.”

Silently Bahi walks toward the back exit way, directed by the Baba. As he moves further away, he can hear the Baba call out, “Remember, the Bahi you perceive to exist does not exist the way you believe it to.”

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