The New Life

The New Life

The savage winds struck quickly in the night and in the wake of their triumphant retreat, the air was damp, and limp, and fragrant with the odor of dead and dying trees. I remembered that in my half sleep the night before, I heard howls and screams. Tumultuous thuds shook the earth. I heard loud snapping sounds, like guns at war, but I was in no way prepared for what I saw when I stumbled into the garden that morning.
The corpses of ancient, mighty, trees, no match for their merciless and invisible enemy, lay broken and twisted apart, slain and scattered on a battlefield scared with huge craters—where powerful roots had been ripped from the earth.
I was stunned and silent, I recognized but couldn’t see, and within me and without, no thought or feeling conveyed from any place to any other. Surely I would have wept—if I could.
Hours passed in seconds, days stretched into eternities. I wondered aimlessly through the garden, my beloved nowhere to be found.
Exhausted and confused, I sat down in some unfamiliar place and disappeared into the memory of an ancient song he had once sung to me. Upon recalling the words, “Let not despair and disappointment ravage and destroy the garden of your life…” I felt a soft rustling around me and then the soothing sound of my beloved’s beautiful voice. At first I couldn’t discern whether it was within me or without.
“Let despair and disappointment ravage and ruin the garden of your life.
That is how the song goes.”
I turned and he was there, suddenly, like he had never been gone at all. My gaze fell to his feet and the hem of the white garment that draped his graceful form.
“This garden will live and die and live again.” He said softly.
I looked up into his gentle smiling face and for a moment, the entire firmament was eclipsed by his effulgence. His dark, luminous, eyes were warm and filled with the dew of love.
“You beautify it by contentment and self sufficiency. Protect and love it. Nurture it as you would your very self, but worry not if it is taken from you and you are left with nothing at all. Remember my silent words.
Even if your heart be cut to bits, let a smile be on your lips. Here I divulge to you a truth: Hidden in your empty hands is treasure untold. Your beggarly life is the envy of kings.”
“How can I not worry?” I begged.
“I am attached to everything.”
A fragrance of sandalwood and jasmine swirled around him as he seated himself on the ground beside me. Silence enfolded and caressed me. The rhythm of his breath became my own.
“My Will is beyond you. My Wish is within you—Be happy do not worry.” He said.
“I am so tired and exhausted I can hardly think, yet your presence consoles me. I am so happy to be with you.”
“Rest.” He said, and placed his hand lightly upon his leg.
My cheek fell into the soothing coolness of his garment and in the moment’s sanctuary I began to drift through strange dreams into a silent sleep. When I awoke in some unknown place, I instinctively reached out for him.
“Where are we?” I asked. “Are we still in the garden? And am I even awake, or is this some kind of dream?”
“Yes—and no.” He said. “The garden you know, your garden, is but a single flower in my garden. My garden is eternal and infinite; nothing exists outside of it. You only move from place to place within it.”
“Where are we?” I repeated.
“Look!” He said.
We were standing in a small courtyard with floors and walls and benches of white marble. All around us were dark skinned men dressed in white linen sarongs. Necklaces of round wooden beads adorned their naked chests. They were obviously involved in some activity, but I couldn’t tell what it was.
“Where are we?” I asked again.
“I don’t recognize these people or this place.”
“We are in another part of my garden.” He said and smiled gently.
“And these men—who are they and what are they doing?”
“Come.” He said, and guided me through the courtyard and up a marble stairway to a large open verandah. I heard singing—a kind of chant, accompanied by drums and cymbals. Guiding me in the direction of the sound, he steered us through a crowd of people to a large central hall where men and women were engaged in a cacophony of various activities. A number of other smaller rooms adjoined the hall on either side and at the back. These rooms were also filled with people. The atmosphere was charged with devotional fervor.
Taking me by the arm, my companion led me through a throng of people to a place in the middle of the verandah—just adjacent to the central hall. Directly in front of us was a small enclosure that enshrined a large metal bell.
My Beloved looked thoughtfully at the bell and then back at me.
“This bell has an interesting history. Listen carefully. Can you see that large red fortress in the distance?”
I followed his gaze to a majestic looking structure—like an ancient medieval castle with impressive turrets and winding staircases.
“A powerful and greedy ruler once lived there.” He said.
“His rule was very strict and without compassion. He made war on his neighbors and terrified the subjects of his own kingdom. One day while gazing from his window he noticed this temple and decided that he would conquer and destroy it.”
“Why would he want to do that?” I asked incredulously.
“It was his nature and so he dispatched a mighty army of thousands of soldiers, horses, and chariots of war. There were terrible weapons and the beating of drums was like thunder.
The army began to make its way across the plain and, it is said that even miles away the people in the temple could feel the ground shake with its approach. But then, just as the soldiers were about to invade the temple, a magical event occurred. This bell began to ring and with it all the other bells in the temple began to ring also.”
“What made them ring?” I asked.
“It was not rung by a human hand.” He said, and then paused before continuing his story.
“The bells rang and rang and the sound was deafening. Frightened and confused, the army stopped advancing and their chief sent a message back to the ruler informing him of the situation. Interpreting the event as a sign that the temple was under divine protection, he recalled his army and the temple has stood undisturbed ever since.”
“Who rang the temple bells?” I asked.
“It was my order.” He replied.
“You must love this temple very much.” I said.
He turned and faced the main hall and in a voice distinct and clear he said:
“Come all unto me.”
‘Here, here is your beloved!’ —the very object of your devotions standing here among you. I thought as I gazed upon the very pole of divine beauty. He looked deep into my eyes. His face wore an unfathomable expression.
“Though among them I stand at the very center of their devotions, they see me not, for they have come to worship their own worship and have made it their Lord. They are content, but have no real love and that is why they cannot see me. Look around, they have all fallen asleep.
Real love is very rare; it is a gift from God to man. Only love can open their eyes and only love can reach my ears. They cannot see me, and the only prayer that I can hear is the prayer of the heart.”
My mind filled with questions—it all seemed so profoundly sad, but before I could utter a single word he took me by the arm and began walking through the hall to a recessed area behind one of the smaller rooms. The space was divided into three sections. We entered the first. It was a kind of chamber and a man was there but left as soon as we walked in.
White and yellow flowers had been placed around the room and on the walls were some old looking charts carefully lettered in a script I could not read.
“What are these charts?” I asked.
“They are teachings and explanations that I gave to them hundreds of years ago.”
“What do they say?” I asked.
“It is not important any more.” He replied and gently pushed me in the direction of another room.
“Not important?” I asked.
“Things that are real are given and received in silence.” He replied.
This room was obviously a shrine. Beautifully painted murals rich in gold and silver adorned the walls of an alcove that was dominated by a large statue of some saint or god. An energetic procession of worshipers filed past the statue speaking and gesturing in devotional ways.
“Who is portrayed in this statue?” I asked.
“Me.” My companion replied. “I come again and again; I have lived many lives.”
He continued to view the procession as we spoke, sometimes appearing to take particular notice of one or more of the devotees.
“Of the many, there are a few sincere lovers of God.” He said.
“When they pray, their prayers are heard.”
“If they are your real lovers,” I asked, “Then why is it that they still do not notice you?”
“To see me and to know me is a gift I bestow when the time is right.”
He looked at me with such love that for a moment nothing existed but the two of us. Then he took me by the hand.
“It is time for us to leave here.” He said. “Don’t be afraid.”
No sooner did he take my hand but a kind of curtain was pulled around me. Then it was gone and we were standing in the middle of a walkway that led to what appeared to be a very large mosque. A sea of people surged around us.
“Where are we now?” I asked.
“Are we here to see this mosque?”
“No.” He answered and began walking in the direction of the great building. We took no more then a few steps and he stopped.
“Look over there.” He said, and pointed to the side of the road. I looked, but could not see what he trying to show me.
“There.” He pointed. “There, on the ground—the man.”
And then I saw him, a thin nearly naked man lying flat on the ground. His face was turned to the side and he was breathing in a very rapid rhythmic way. He was making strange sounds, but I couldn’t tell if he was saying anything. Even more strange was that he had no arms, just two short stumps, one of which he continuously beat or flapped ferociously in the air. I was shocked and appalled by the sight and quickly turned away.
“I don’t understand.” I said. “Is he a beggar?”
“Not a beggar, but a wayfarer.” He replied.
“What is he doing?” I asked.
“He is in a very high state of spiritual intoxication.” He said.
“He is totally unconscious of the physical universe, not even conscious of his own body.”
“How did he get like that?” I asked.
“When he was just a child, he was given to a spiritual school. This school had knowledge of many ancient practices. You can say that this man is the result of certain experiments.”
“Experiments!” I said. “What kind of experiments?”
“Jesus referred to such practices when he said that there was once a time when the kingdom of heaven could be attained by violence.”
“So what will become of this man?” I asked.
“I will help him.” My companion replied.
“Now walk with me in the direction of the mosque,
there is another man I want you to see.”
He gestured in the direction of a small gathering of people attending a man sitting on a platform in the middle of the road. He had no arms or legs and unlike the first man he was carefully dressed in clean white linen.
“Is he spiritually intoxicated too?” I asked.
“No.” My companion said. “This man is very advanced but he is salik.”
“Salik?” I asked.
“Sober.” He replied.
“Is he the result of an experiment too?”
“No, he is this way because of tremendous efforts he has made. He has undertaken great penances and made many sacrifices. His work has been intentional and conscious.”
“Is there any connection between him and the other man?"
“Yes, this man is the first man’s spiritual master. He is his guide.”
I was very interested to know why my beloved had taken me to see these two strange men but before I could even formulate a question, the man on the platform had taken notice of my companion and began gesturing to his attendants who picked him up and turned him in our direction. He and my beloved stared into each other’s eyes. For a moment, they were completely still and totally absorbed. Then just as quickly as it began it was over.
“Come.” My beloved said. “This work is complete.”
“That man seemed to know you.” I said.
“He is one of my few direct agents.” He replied. “He is the spiritual chargeman for this part of the world and he is responsible for all of its affairs.”
“Come.” He said as he took my hand, and again a curtain of darkness was pulled around me, and then, just as quickly as before, it disappeared and we were standing on a painted wooden floor in a large open hall in a temple or monastery. Colored silks and tapestries adorned the walls. There were statues of Buddha and other deities. Smoke from incense filled the room.
“Where are we now?” I asked.
“We’re in a Tibetan monastery.” My companion replied.
“Come.”
He steered us to the back of the hall where a group of monks in cranberry colored robes were performing some sort of ceremony. The leader was standing before a large square table that held an elaborately colored design.
“It is beautiful.” I said.”
“Look closer.” He replied “It’s a painting made of sand.”
We took a few steps closer. Some of the monks noticed us and smiled.
“Look.” He said.
Standing closer, I could see that the painting was made of a variety of vividly colored sand. The design was very complex and the sand had been piled up in a way that gave a sense of dimension and relief. Meanwhile, the monks were singing, bells were ringing, and a venerable old man stood before the painting quietly intoning a prayer.
Unable to stop looking at the painting, I was drawn into some unique and strange experience in which I experienced myself within the space of the painting itself wandering through a magical maze of glittering lights. I had entered an enchanted world, more internal than external, composed of pure feeling and pure thought. Wandering through its shining corridors, I experienced an endless array of sights and sounds and was drawn deeper and deeper into some pristine and subtle joy.
I was transformed. My body had become light and the painting was a prism that scattered me into a shimmering rainbow that danced with the rhythm of my own breath. Time disappeared into eternity. I laughed and cried and wished only to be drowned forever in the tears of my own bliss.
But then something began to happen. My magical world was becoming undone—the patterns breaking down. Colors swirled into each other. The shining corridors collapsed. I was terrified, shaking all over, and then, like out of a dream, I saw him. It was the old man standing over the painting. His hands were immersed in the sand and he was swirling it all together. The lines and patterns disappeared. It was becoming—just sand.
“Why is he destroying it?” I cried, and then felt the hand of my Beloved on my arm.
“All creation lives and dies.” He said. “Life is transitory and only God is eternal. In the end, the painting is always destroyed, but it is honored. The sand is carefully collected and respectfully used again in other ways. This ceremony is about liberation from the illusion of suffering. It honors the journeyless journey to eternal reality. Destroying the painting in the end is a reminder that the ceremony itself is illusory and transitory in its nature and should not be maintained beyond the fulfillment of the purpose it was created for.”
I watched the monks as they began to fill containers with the sand they scraped from the table and wondered if my garden, and indeed my very life, was just a picture made of sand.
“Everything passes. Nothing remains the same.” He said as the curtain of darkness was again drawn around me. When it was lifted I found myself once more in the place where I had fallen asleep, still lying on my beloved’s lap. I looked around. Everything had changed. The chaos and destruction were gone, but so was the garden.
“The garden is gone.” He said, answering my thoughts.
“It is time for you to continue your journey. It is time for you to enter the New Life.”

“This New Life is endless, and even after my physical death it will be kept alive by those who live the life of complete renunciation of falsehood, lies, hatred, anger, greed, and lust: and who to accomplish all this, do no lustful actions, do no harm to anyone, do no backbiting, do not seek material possessions or power, who accept no homage, neither covet honor nor shun disgrace, and fear no one and nothing; by those who rely wholly and solely on God, and who love God purely for the sake of loving; who believe in the lovers of God and in the reality of Manifestation, and yet do not expect any spiritual or material reward; who do not let go the hand of Truth, and who, without being upset by calamities, bravely and wholeheartedly face all hardships with one hundred per cent cheerfulness, and give no importance to caste, creed and religious ceremonies. This New Life will live by itself eternally, even if there is no one to live it.” Meher Baba

© 2002 Michael Kovitz

The Divine Theme of Meher Baba

Meher Baba’s
The Divine Theme


This essay is intended as a brief introduction to the Divine Theme of Meher Baba. It originated as a series of emails I sent to a friend who was only minimally acquainted with the teachings of Meher Baba.

Most all of the material used in this introduction can be found in greater detail in the books God Speaks, The Discourses, and The Nothing and the Everything. These books are available through Sheriar Press in Myrtle Beach, S.C. and other online sources.


I would like to begin with the words of Meher Baba from the conclusion of his book God Speaks:

“God cannot be explained, He cannot be argued about, He cannot be theorized, nor can He be discussed and understood. God can only be lived.
Nevertheless, all that is said here and explained about God to appease the intellectual convulsions of the mind of man, still lacks many more words and further explanations because the Truth is that the Reality must be realized and the divinity of God must be attained and lived.
To understand the infinite, eternal Reality is not the Goal of individualized beings in the Illusion of Creation, because the Reality can never be understood; it is to be realized by conscious experience.
Therefore, the Goal is to realize the Reality and attain the ‘I am God’ state in human form.”


I.

Meher Baba talks about ten states of God. Since nothing exists beyond, or before, or outside of God, the ten states include everything. To create an overview, these original ten states can be condensed into three.


1.In the first state, God is asleep. He is so asleep that he is not even aware of his own existence. It is comparable to our own deep sleep state. It is dreamless.

2.In the second state, God is beginning to wake up. This is the intermediate dream state between deep sleep and the fully awake state. In this state, God dreams himself to be the entire creation and everything and everyone within it. It is comparable to our own dream state.

3.In the third state, God has awakened and experiences his true nature as eternal, infinite, all knowing, and all-powerful. God experiences Reality, it is a state of unendingly bliss. In this state, creation and all of its beings and paraphernalia are seen to have been an illusion—just vacant dreams within a dream.


Meher Baba suggests an analogy that likens God to an ocean—a shoreless, fathomless ocean. The ocean awakens drop by drop. When a drop begins the process of awakening it begins to dream the dream of creation. Baba refers to this drop as an individualized soul. The goal of the ocean, manifested through each drop, is to bec ome aware of itself as God—to awaken. Creation, through the processes of evolution, reincarnation, and involution is the mechanism of this awakening.



II.

In the Original First state of God, (Meher Baba calls this state the Beyond Beyond State), there is neither consciousness nor unconsciousness, though both are latent. Without consciousness, God cannot know himself as God. Consciousness is like a mirror that God uses to see himself. It is acquired through the process of evolution, but this evolution is not the Darwinian evolution so well known to science. The fundamental difference being that Darwinian evolution is concerned with the connectivity and relationship of gross forms from lower to higher, while Meher Baba’s evolution is concerned with the consciousness gained by the individualized soul through associations with the various forms of creation.

As consciousness is gained through the process of evolution, sanskaras are also acquired. Sanskaras are impressions that serve a dual function in evolution. First, the existence of sanskaras impels experience that furthers new gains in consciousness, and second, because the sankaras tend to cling to consciousness like dust on the surface of a mirror, sankaras prevents the mirror of consciousness from reflecting to the eye of the soul, its reality as God.

The New Testament speaks of this relationship between consciousness and sanskaras in the metaphor of the tarries that grow up with the wheat. It is only during the later process of involution that the wheat can be separated from the tarries.

Between evolution and involution is reincarnation. It begins automatically once full consciousness is acquired during the process of evolution and the human form is achieved.

Reincarnation is the mechanism through which the hold of the impressions on consciousness is sufficiently loosened so that they can be totally removed, i.e. wiped away, during the next phase of involution.

Meher Baba tells us that reincarnation occurs on other planets that support human life, but that involution only occurs on our planet, the planet earth. Reincarnation and involution always occurs in the human form.

During the process of reincarnation sanskaras are spent. The term is used by Meher Baba to describe an exchange of sanskaras. In reincarnation, the sum total of sanskaras is generally neither increased nor decreased. This exchange, or spending, loosens the hold of these impressions on consciousness so that they can be removed later, during the process of involution. Through this process, gross impressions get exchanged for finer impressions, and so there is a general thinning out of gross impressions.


III.

All of creation is comprised of three spheres of existence named the gross, the subtle, and the mental. What science identifies as the universe, with all its planets and stars, matter and anti-matter, planets, stars, black holes, etc. is contained in the gross sphere. The subtle and the mental spheres, let alone Reality, are beyond its capacity for inquiry.

To experience the subtle sphere a subtle form and subtle consciousness are necessary; to experience the mental sphere, a mental form and mental consciousness are necessary; and to experience Reality, Divine Consciousness and a Divine body are necessary. (The need of a proper form and consciousness to obtain a certain experience is spoken of in the parable in the New Testament about the man who was barred entrance to the wedding because he did not have the appropriate garment to wear.)

The sojourn of the soul usually proceeds without consciousness from the state of Reality through the mental, the subtle, and into the gross sphere to begin the process of acquiring and then perfecting consciousness necessary to eventually return consciously through the subtle, and mental spheres to complete its journey in the place it began—Reality.

Meher Baba names the first phase of the process evolution. During evolution, the soul systematically associates with and dissociates from (identifies with and loses identity with) the numerous gross forms from stone to metal, vegetable, insect, fish, reptile, bird, and animal forms. Through these associations, the soul acquires consciousness.

The final evolutionary form is the human form and, being the last, contains within itself all the previous lower forms.

Continuing to describe and explain the details of this incredible journey, Meher Baba continually reminds us however, that this journey is a journeyless journey. In reality, the soul never goes anywhere or does anything. The whole journey is, in fact, an illusion within Illusion for it takes place in the dream state of God. Yet, it is a necessary illusion. Meher suggests the nature of the relationship that exists between Illusion and Reality in the dedication to his book God Speaks.

“To the Universe—
the Illusion that sustains Reality”


IV.

With the achievement of the human form, consciousness is full and complete—but it is not perfected. (The dust of sanskaras still obscures the surface of the mirror.) The soul now enters reincarnation, the second phase of its journey.

It generally takes millions of incarnations in the human form, sometimes as man or woman, rich or poor, healthy or sick, sane or insane, Hindu or Muslim, Christian or Jew, etc. etc. etc. for the soul to complete the phase of reincarnation.

During this time, consciousness and identity continues to be centered in gross sanskaras and the soul continues to identify itself with the gross human body living in the gross world. In reincarnation, there is awareness of thoughts and feelings that emanate from the subtle and mental bodies, but there is no direct consciousness of these bodies or identification with them.

Only during the process of involution, does the individualized soul loses consciousness of the gross body and the gross world and becomes conscious of the subtle body and the subtle world. At this stage, the consciousness of the individual soul, while still inhabiting a gross human form, experiences the higher planes of the subtle sphere and becomes aware of itself and the universe it finds itself in, as pure energy.

The spiritual planes consist of seven different stages. The first three planes exist in the subtle world. The fourth plane stands half in the subtle world and half in the mental world. The fifth and sixth planes are both in the mental world. Meher Baba tells us that the seventh plane is the goal and the destiny of all souls and ultimately, all souls reach that goal. There are many formulations used to describe this achievement; God Realization, The Self, Self Realization, Union with God, Becoming God, The Kingdom of Heaven, The Real Awakening, Reality, etc.—many ways of describing the same one thing.

V.

Meher Baba once drew a picture of Himself as chicken. He called it the Mischievous Chicken and explained that it was the first chicken to emerge from under the wing of the Mother Hen (the Original First Deep Sleep State of God) and journey through evolution, reincarnation, and involution to realize the Goal. After reaching the Goal he looked back and saw all the other chickens that had followed him out. It was there and then that he took on the burden of helping all the other chickens to realize the Goal also. The name given to this first soul to reach the Goal and take upon Himself this burden of responsibility is the Ancient One, Avatar, Christ, Rasool, or Messiah.

The Ancient One comes again and again and though the form of His message is seen to change to conform to the needs of the times the essence of His message is always the same, “God alone is Real and the destiny of all souls is to recognize that Reality as oneself.” Likewise, though the form of the work of the Avatar changes with the exigencies of time and situation, His work also, always remains the same—to give to all of creation a universal spiritual push towards the Goal and to take upon Himself the burden of the suffering acquired by each soul in its journeyless journey to Self.

Meher Baba has identified Krishna, Ram, Buddha, Zoroaster, Jesus, Mohammed, and Himself as a few of the more recent Avataric incarnations. He tells us these historical personages are, in essence, unique garments that informed the Avataric Presence at particular times in particular places. For example, Jesus was the name of the man who informed the Christ, i.e. the garment that clothed the Avataric presence. That garment was used and then discarded. All of the garments of the Avatar are discarded and not used again. Therefore, the Avatar as Jesus will not come again, but the Avatar, the Ancient One, continues to come again and again—Meher Baba tells us, every seven hundred to fourteen hundred years.



VI.

Since the whole process of awakening is about consciousness, the mechanism that creates and perfects consciousness is very significant. Meher Baba explains this mechanism fully in his book Discourses. (Also available through Sheriar Press.)

This mechanism can be seen in the cycle that begins with a first action that occurs in the Original Deep Sleep State of God. Meher Baba names this first action Lahar. He said that no word can adequately describe the phenomena, but Lahar comes the closest.Literally, Lahar means whim, and the implication is that this first action is without any cause. It just manifests spontaneously. The Lahar is the first action and this first action is also the first cause. The first cause results in a first effect and thereby establishes the law of cause and effect that manifests all of creation and its gross, subtle, and mental spheres.

The result of action is consciousness, but this consciousness is always tinged by the unique qualities of that action. This tinge is called a Sanskara. A sanskara is an impression that is formed as a result of some action. Once this impression is formed, and consciousness becomes aware of it, then a need is created to experience that impression. To experience these new impressions an appropriate new action is necessary and for this action, an appropriate new form is necessary because the form that creates the new sanskara is not capable of experiencing it. Therefore, a new form must be taken to experience the new sanskaras. This new form is, in fact, nothing other than the consolidated mould of the impressions gathered in the previous life or form. Ironically, we are always living, i.e. experiencing, one lifetime behind the one we are currently living.

The cycle can be summarized thusly:

1.Action creates consciousness and sanskaras are the by-product of the process.
2.Consciousness of the sanskaras creates the need to experience the sanskaras.
3.To experience the sanskara, a new action and a new form are necessary.
4.This action then leads to more consciousness and more sankaras that need to be
experienced.

This cycle characterizes the process of evolution. As stated previously, evolution is complete and its purpose fulfilled upon achievement of the human form. During the process of reincarnation that follows, the cycle continues, but with one important difference. Since consciousness is already fully developed, no more consciousness remains to be achieved and consequently the sum total of sankaras is not further increased.
The purpose of reincarnation is to loosen the hold of the already accumulated sanskaras on consciousness and this is achieved through the spending (exchanging) of one sanskara for another. A further result is that, over time, the gross sanskaras also, get thinned out sufficiently to enable involution, the next step in the process, to proceed. During the process of involution, the consciousness of the soul enters the subtle and mental spheres and experiences the higher planes of consciousness.


VII.

In addition to God Speaks and Discourses, numerous points were dictated by Meher Baba to Bhau Kalchuri, See. The Nothing and the Everything for a most descriptive view of the planes of consciousness.


The planes of consciousness are not in the gross, physical universe and the pilgrim, experiencing involution on the planes, is neither conscious of the gross, physical universe nor even his gross, physical, body. Though not conscious of his body, the body is retained and other gross conscious individuals can see and interact with the pilgrim through it. For his part, the pilgrim on the planes is generally aware of gross conscious individuals, but does not see there gross, physical bodies, instead, he sees and interacts with them as pure energy or, in the case of the mentally conscious pilgrim, as pure mind.

Between the gross sphere and the first plane of the subtle world is a connective membrane that links the gross sphere to the subtle sphere. This connective membrane is the sub-subtle sphere, or what is generally called, the astral world. Once the pilgrim is fully established on the first subtle plane this link is dissolved forever. Most, so-called, channeling occurs between the gross and the sub-subtle sphere. Pilgrims on the higher subtle and mental planes do not channel as such.

Every plane has a heaven. These heavens are not the heaven and hell referred to by many Christians and Muslims. Maher Baba offers this explanation. Planes are connected to each other. One journeys from plane to plane as one journeys from place to place by a railroad network. The station from which one journeys is like a railroad station in the center of a city. The station is the plane. The city, with all its unique experiences, is like the heaven. One must come to the station, i.e. leave the heaven, before they can journey to the next plan.

The pilgrim on the first plane sees gross forms as shadows. These shadows are energy because everything, including himself, is experienced as energy. The pilgrim on the first plane is bursting with inspiration inspired by unimaginable sights and visions, colors and sounds, light that dazzle and enchants him, and the celestial music of angels inhabiting the higher planes of the subtle world. The inspiration he feels affects other gross conscious people near him. Nothing in the gross sphere can match the unimaginable beauty and experiences of the first subtle plane.

It could take thousands of years for the pilgrim to progress to the next plane, but with the help of a perfect master the journey can be speeded up. In the second plane, the pilgrim becomes seized by subtle powers and gradually gains control of these powers by becoming their possessor. With these powers, the pilgrim can perform at will, minor miracles like transforming a withered tree into a green one, or visa versa. He can stop moving cars or trains, prevent airplanes from taking off, or fill dry wells with water.

The section of the second plane called the heaven of the second plane has two sections and these sections are the heaven and hell that are experienced by the gross conscious soul after death.

All the planes of the subtle and the mental spheres are internal states; they have no physical reality and cannot be located in gross space. Individuals in the state of reincarnation, after death, do not experience the second plane but only the subjective states of heaven and hell, in accordance with their unique sanskaric patterns. Heaven and hell is a kind of mechanism that helps the individual to balance out their sanskaras in preparation for their next incarnation.
Once the individual achieves the state of involution, the need to experience the heaven and hell states between incarnations become unnecessary.
The pilgrim in involution, who has consciousness of the second plane, can imbibe the blissful state of heaven and avoid the pain of hell by the exercise of their will.

The third plane of the subtle world is a realm of even greater powers. This plane is where major miracles such as giving sight to the blind, speech to the mute, and hearing to the deaf are performed. Dead animals can be brought back to life and the minds of all gross conscious individuals, anywhere in the world, can be read at will.

In the heaven of the third plane, the pilgrim can see and interact with angels, for this heaven is the realm of the gods. It includes all the Hindu gods and deities who are, in fact, the Greek and Roman gods as well.

Meher Baba explains that archangels and angels are souls who, in their journey from the deep sleep state, become conscious while descending through the planes. The average soul does not experience any consciousness until reaching the gross sphere.

Meher Baba further explains that for archangels and angels to complete their journey to awakening they have to take one lifetime in the human form and condition.

The fourth plane pilgrim is between the subtle and the mental world with, so to speak, a foot in both. The subtle world was all about power and the mental world is all about mind. Though very advanced in power, the pilgrim of the fourth plane has not yet mastered his mind. The combination is very dangerous because if a fourth plane pilgrim so much as has a thought, then that thought is instantly actualized. Instigated by the thought itself, entire worlds can be created or destroyed and the minds of men and angels can be influenced. Obviously, the pilgrim needs help at this stage and the Nazar (watchful gaze) of perfect masters and masters of the fifth plane is on the fourth plane pilgrim. Meher Baba tells us that Kuber is the name given to a fourth plane pilgrim.

The fifth and sixth planes are in the mental world. The fifth plane pilgrim gains mastery over the section of mind that controls thought and the sixth plane pilgrim gains mastery over the section of mind that controls feeling. In fact, the fifth plane pilgrim actually becomes thought and the sixth plane pilgrim actually becomes feeling. The fifth plane pilgrim knows everything and hears the divine sound of God while the sixth plane pilgrim sees God everywhere and as everything.

All that remains for the sixth plane pilgrim is to become one with God. His state is indeed exalted, yet his journey is incomplete because he continues to experience himself as other than God. Retaining the sense of false individuality, he is still in illusion—the second state or dream state of God. Meher Baba explains, that the gap, or distance, between all of evolution, reincarnation, and involution is infinitesimally smaller than the chasm that exists between the sixth plane and the seventh plane of reality i.e. the third and fully awake state of God.


VIII.


With the help of one who has achieved the perfection of the seventh plane, the pilgrim enters the seventh plane of consciousness. He is now fully awake and experiences the infinite power, knowledge and bliss of God. He becomes God eternally. Usually, after achieving this state the pilgrim drops his physical, subtle, and mental bubbles i.e. bodies within about forty-eight to seventy-two hours. This dropping of the body, in no way affects the experience of the individualized soul with regard to experience of his Godhood, but does affect his consciousness of creation. After dropping the body, all consciousness of creation is lost and no further lifetimes are lived. In other words, God conscious souls never reincarnate. (The only exception is the very first realized soul i.e. the mischievous chicken, who out of compassion for and responsibility to all of creation, comes back again and again, every 750-1,400 years.)

Some God realized souls stay in the body longer—for years or even decades. The divine consciousness of all these beings is the same but the degree of creation consciousness differs depending on the duties and responsibilities they take on with regard to the working and execution of the Avatar’s Divine Plan. There are always 56 God-Realized beings on the planet, five of which are Perfect Masters. These five maintain the most consciousness of and the most responsibility to creation. It is also their function to bring down, i.e. precipitate, the advent of the Avatar in the Avataric periods.



© Michael Kovitz 2003

The Stray

It was less than a week ago, when leaving my house, that I first saw her, alone and on her own, walking around the old section of roadway that parallels the railroad tracks at the end of our street. My immediate impression was that she was a stray.
I noticed her again later when I returned. There were a few neighbors with their dogs, huddled in her vicinity.
Within a few days it seemed that most of the neighborhood—even those who aren’t ‘dog people,’ were aware of her. Talk was she had been abandoned, there in that secluded place at the end of the street, where all manner of trash and debris gets regularly dumped under the curtain of dark anonymity in the middle of the night.
My wife told me that some of the neighbors said she was a German Sheppard and was wearing a collar that was too tight. Someone said that if anyone could get close enough, they should try to loosen it.
Yesterday morning I decided to have a look for myself. I started up the road with a small bag of dry dog food in my hand and saw her immediately. She certainly had no intention of keeping herself hidden.
Two bowls had been set out for her near-by; an old metal one with dirty water and a cheap plastic container with about a day’s dry food already in it.
When I approached, she took a few steps back from the road onto a little path that runs off into the dense unkempt kudzu vines and scrub vegetation that fill the narrow strip of land that separates the road from the tracks.
She seemed neither scared nor hostile—just cautious. I stopped about twelve feet from her. It was not my intention to capture or befriend her.
She was very handsome—barely medium size, with short brown fur, and features that resembled a German Sheppard, yet suggested an ancestry far more gnarled and complex.
She was young, possibly less than a year old, certainly no more than two, and looked to be in good health. She was not underweight.
I looked for, but could not see the collar and wondered if someone had already gotten close enough to remove it. Later, when I mentioned this to my wife, she suggested that it might be on so tight that it just wasn’t immediately visible. Involuntarily, I reached up and rubbed the back of my neck. “Could it be that this last vestige of her former confinement might eventually become the instrument of her own ultimate demise?” I wondered, “and do we all enter this world with the means and moment of our departure determined from the beginning—strapped around our necks like the collar on that stray?” I turned to walk back, stopping first to empty my bag of kibbles into her bowl—like an offering of biksha one makes at the abode of a great saint.
That was a few days ago and though I haven’t returned to see her, she does remain in my thoughts.
“What is my interest in her?” It is not that I wish to befriend her or make her my own, but something in her situation resonates with me. I know it is the edge.
The edge, and those who live on the edge, has always attracted me; for the edge is the place where real possibility begins. There, on that narrow strip of land, just beyond the reach of the society’s fingertips, meaning is sought and found—reality is glimpsed. Along that dusty strand, both the sinner with his spiked chain and the saint with his golden chain, win freedom from all chains.
And so I continue to think about her and her precarious life filled with snakes and dangers. “How long will she be wily and lucky enough to survive? Will she, in a moment of carelessness, make a mistake? Will she some day, in a moment of weakness or need, willingly trade her freedom for a life of human companionship—and a leash?”
This morning, when I returned home from walking our greyhound Nazar, I saw a white pick-up truck with a cage, slowly circling our block. The truck, however, did not go up the road and I took care not betray her when I looked in that direction.
She was not there, but I did glimpse her later, following a woman who was walking two dogs. She followed the group for half a block, barking defiantly, keeping her distance. “Was she chasing them away, or calling them to freedom?” Perhaps she was just lonely.
That was days ago and I have not seen her since. My feeling is that she is no longer around. I am curious, yet admit my reluctance to actually learn her fate. I have avoided the subject with our neighbors, instead preferring the company of my own imagination where, in idle moments, over a glass of wine, I play out the different scenarios of her fortune and allow my mind its freedom to return to the edge—to contemplate that nexus where the soul experiences its need of solitude and consciousness its need of experience: to ponder the mystery of that place where the spirit’s thirst for freedom meets societies need of restraint, where silence, on a whim, asked the question, “Who am I?” and began the dream of stones and snakes, sinners and saints, companions and strays.


© 2005 Michael Kovitz

Song of the Stream

A Reverie on the Parvardigar Prayer

I open my heart and call upon you, the one whose unwavering gaze shines upon all and everything with mercy and compassion—like a sun that never sets.

Oh eternal one, there was never a time or a moment when you did not exist and indeed, nothing exists but you—so what exists to compare you with and what exists that can measure you?

You are imperishable and cannot be diminished, you are beyond action and movement, all limitation and understanding, unknowable and inconceivable, indeed you cannot be fully imagined—even by yourself.

You are the great silence before the sound, the clarity before the color, the self-contained before the expression, the formless before the form, and nothing can be attributed to you.

Nothing exists that is not you, so what can limit you? You are unfathomable—indeed even you cannot fathom yourself. Dreams cannot dream you, thought cannot think you; you are the undying, undivided moment and you can only be seen with eyes divine.

Never were you not, never will you cease to be, you are always everywhere and beyond everywhere, you are always in everything and beyond everything also.

You are in the sea and in the sky, revealing and concealing yourself and your actions in the worlds of creatures and men, in the worlds of angels and gods.

You are the seeds of the mind and you are the mind as well. You are the energy that enlivens the pattern beyond the form and you are the pattern as well. You are the matter that builds the forms and you are all forms also, and you are beyond and aloof from all seeds and mind, energy and patterns, matter and form.

You are beyond perception and absolutely independent—even of yourself.

You are the creator of everything, the lord of all lords, you are the knower of all minds and hearts and you are the knower of my mind and my heart. You are even the knowledge that you know—also.

You are supreme, invincible, indestructible, and unstoppable. You are everywhere at all times and before and after time itself. You know everything that ever was, or is, or will be, and you even know all that never was, or is, or will be.

There is no knowledge that is not you, there is no power that is not you, and in the knowledge of yourself as everything there is unlimited, unbounded, unending bliss and limitless mercy too—because you know that ignorance is the child of your knowledge as nothing is the shadow of your everything.
You are every drop of the shoreless, limitless, ocean, every image of the dream, every thought of the mind, every tear of the heart, and every spark of the original fire. There is no end to your attributes or your manifestations and, though you never do the same thing twice, you remain always the same—changeless, timeless, eternal, immaculate and pristine.

You are as modern as the moment, as ancient as eternity. There is nothing above you or below you or beside you. You are all the Names of God, beyond all the Names of God, and you are even beyond yourself. You are the only one worthy of worship and you alone can worship yourself.

© Michael Kovitz 2004

Kadam

Just a feeling void of memory,
that you were somehow there;
the nameless, faceless one,
abode of meaning,
repository of love.

Just a feeling void of memory,
that we’ve danced this dance before,
to the rhythm of my heart;
eyes filled with cool tears
wash away the sandy grains of sleep.

A timeless moment,
lost in love’s embrace,
my life becomes etheric –
the shadow of my soul,

and knowledge gains the certainty
that the purpose of my life has been;
to hear your name, oh nameless one,
and see your face, oh faceless one.

You said: “Look, I am here!
It is your time
to see me now.”

I said: “Yes, I know your voice
and recognize your face.
Now, what more remains?
Am I to die?

You said: “Die now, when you can truly live?
For whether by grace of destiny or chance,
your life’s purpose has been fulfilled
and the time of celebration has come.

Rejoice now,
drink my wine,
sing my name,
and share with any wayfarer
who cherishes a feeling void of memory,
the sound of my name
and the image of my face
blazing in your heart.”


Copyright Michael Kovitz 2002

The Significance and Insignificance of Time

There are four yugas. Krita, Treta, Dwarpara, and Kali.

Krita lasts 4,800 divine years or 1,752,000 human years. (There are 365 human years to one divine year.)

Treta lasts 3,600 divine years or 1,314,000 human years.

Dwapara lasts 2,400 divine years or 876,000 human years.

Kali lasts 1,200 divine years or 438,000 human years.

A Chaturyuga is a term designating the whole cycle of four yugas. It lasts 12,000 divine years or 4,380,000 human years.

71 chaturyugas makes a manvantara or 310,980,000 human years.

14 manvantars make a kalpa or 4,353,720,000 human years.

1000 kalpas is 12,000,000 divine years and that is one day of Brahma.

8,000 Brahma years makes one Brahma yuga.

1,000 Brahma yugas make a savanna; and Brahma’s life is 3,003 savanas long.

One day of Mahavishnu is the lifetime of Brahma.


So, where are we in all of this?

Most all authorities agree that we are now experiencing the final stages of the Kali Yuga.

Meher Baba said that he was the last Avatar in this cycle of cycles. I assume that we are therefore at the end of a Manvantara. (A period of time of nearly three hundred and eleven million years!)

Meher Baba also said that when He (the Avatar) would incarnate again in approximately 700 human years it would be a Golden age i.e. Krita the first yuga in the next Chaturyuga.

And what is the significance of all this?

Meher Baba said that there are eight million four hundred thousand forms that the soul must associate with and disassociate from to reach the human form. (The last of these forms being the human form.)

The soul then associates and disassociates with eight million four hundred thousand human forms (lifetimes) through the processes of reincarnation and involution to reach the final stage of Realization.

To have reached the human form is a great achievement. We have come so far already. A few more lifetimes, or a few thousand, even more, what does it matter, we are nearly there!

Any human being we meet, sinner or saint, beggar or king, has been around this creation for billions of years. Apparently spiritual or crude, what does it matter?

What we have all gone through, what we have all forgotten, and what we still must experience and endure, only a perfect one really knows.

Is not the fact that everyone we meet is a wayfarer on an incredible odyssey that has traverse millions of forms and millions of lifetimes reason enough to treat each and every human being with respect and admiration?

On this journey, one man’s path is another man’s footsteps. Are we not here really, to continue our journey helping each other as best we can, until the journey ends in conscious union with God. Perhaps living in this awareness is synonymous with real compassion?

I died as mineral and became plant,
I died as plant and rose to animal,
I died as animal and I was man.

Why should I fear?
When was I less by dying?

Yet, once more, I shall die as man,
To soar with angels blessed:
But even from the realm of angels pass on;
All except God does perish.

When I have sacrificed my angel soul,
I shall become what no mind e’er conceived.

Oh, let me not exist!
For non-existence proclaims in organ tones,
‘To Him we shall return!’

—Rumi

Dharma and Karma:The Deeper Questions Stirred by the Life and Death of Terri Schiavo

It is neither my place nor my intention to judge any individual who has played a role in that which has come to be called “The Terri Schiavo Story.”

I watched, like many in the world watched, the events unfold. I saw the expression of intense emotions, diverse opinions, and clashing points of view.

I saw the “questions” expressed and engaged on moral, political, legislative, and religious levels.

I learned that a feeding tube has been removed by court order and that no petition to have it reinserted was granted.


I counted the days until Terri Schiavo died from lack of food and water.

My personal opinion is that in spite of any appearances, there were and are no victims and there were and are no victimizers in this story. All were caught in the inexorable wheel of Karma and all acted in the light of truth perceived by their individual Dharmas.

It was God’s Will that everything should happen exactly as it did. God is infinitely merciful and infinitely compassionate, but God’s mercy and compassion are not man’s mercy and compassion, and it is man’s own ignorance that makes us unable to see the truth.

Dharma and Karma are Eastern concepts. Fundamentally, the doctrine of Karma suggests that one’s life takes the form of the result of past actions. That one is male or female, poor or rich, white, black, or yellow, warrior or priest, is all the result of one’s individual karma. One’s friends, enemies, teachers, lovers, spouse, and children are all determined by one’s karma. How one lives and how one dies is determined by karma.

Dharma means truth. It also means duty. Throughout one’s lifetime, one attempts to understand one’s own dharma and strives to act accordingly. But one can only act on the basis of what they perceive is their dharma and this perception is often flawed and distorted. Only a true master of dharma can know dharma perfectly and therefore would be capable of unraveling the mystery and the real truth the Terri Schiavo story. But it is the world’s present condition i.e. the Kali Yuga, that such a master of dharma is not universally recognized.

(To be continued.)


There is an interesting relationship that exists between dharma and karma. It is similar, though not exactly the same as the relationship between freewill and predestination.
Karma is the hand we are dealt at birth. Dharma affects are ability to play that hand.
Dharma doesn’t immediately alter karma, but does ultimately impact it.
Karma doesn’t ultimately alter dharma, but does immediately impact it.
Karma is what we appear to be, but dharma is, in fact, our destiny.
Dharma trumps karma but karma shapes the expression of dharma.
Dharma is learned; karma is acquired.
It is impossible for the average person to understand another’s dharma or karma, but is possible for the average person to understand one’s own dharma and karma.
Other’s karma appears more explicit while their dharma appears more implicit.
The expression of karma is always the expression of the past, while the expression of dharma is always the promise of the future.

Another question raised by the Terri Schiavo story is the very nature of consciousness and awareness. Meher Baba, in his book God Speaks explains that creation exists in three “worlds.” He names these worlds the gross, subtle, and mental worlds and suggests that individuals possess the potentiality of gross, subtle or mental consciousness.
The average individual (soul) experiences the gross world through their gross consciousness, but as the soul progresses through the stages of involution, that soul acquire subtle consciousness and therefore consciousness of the subtle world. Further involution yields mental consciousness and with it consciousness of the mental world.
It seems likely, that Terri Schiavo was not gross conscious, but was she conscious in a different plane? The fact that she appeared to not be not conscious of the gross world does not mean that she was not conscious The truth here is obviously beyond my ability to see, but I cannot discount the possibility that Terri may have been experiencing the most exquisite subtle heaven or possibly, may God have mercy on us all, the most horrific subtle hell.

(To be continued.)

Meher Baba explains that when an individual is conscious of one world he is not conscious of the other worlds. For example, an individual who is subtly conscious is not aware of the gross or mental worlds at all. The individual still retains a gross body and is seen to perform various functions like eating, breathing, and moving, etc. but, in fact, is not at all conscious of his gross body or gross activities.
To really understand the truth of “The Terri Schiavo Story” one would need to be a master of Karma and Dharma; to really know the truth regarding Terri Schiavo’s consciousness and experience, one would need to possess perfect consciousness i.e. objective consciousness, the consciousness of a perfect master or Avatar.
This is the nature of life in this Kali Yuga; we experience things, observe things within us and around us and never really understand. Is there not often a vague sense of dissatisfaction with all our opinions and so-called “truths”?
We are bound in the intractable jaws of cause and effect, but a cause and its effect may be separated by lifetimes, even hundreds, perhaps even thousands of forgotten lifetimes. Things are not what they often appear to be. Who really are our enemies, our friends, our spouses, and children? Why are we so quick to judge, to say I know?
Yet act we must, but how and from what within?
Kabir, a famous poet once said, “Because you have forgotten the Friend; that is why in every thing you do there is a sense of strange failure?”
The great teachings that have found expression through the ages have consistently reiterated, “Act in a way that you believe will be pleasing to God. Try to listen to and follow your own dharma. Do not be concerned with the fruits of your actions i.e. there successes or failures.”
Two of Meher Baba’s disciples were arguing about something. The argument was getting quite heated and they were shouting at each other. Meher Baba somehow appeared and asked them why they were shouting.
“Because Baba he was supposed to do this and….”
“Yes,” Baba said, “but why are you shouting?”
“Because Baba he didn’t do this and…”
“Yes,” Baba kept repeating, “but why are you shouting at each other?”
After awhile the two disciples calmed down because they realized that they didn’t
understand what Baba was asking them.
Baba then explained. “You are having an argument, you disagree. That is o.k. But why are you shouting? Lovers speak in whispers because their hearts are close, but when the hearts get far apart, one needs to shout across the distance. You can have your different points of view, but never let them distance your hearts. Your hearts should remain close.”


© Michael Kovitz 2005