“The Tantric Curse” - Chapter II of Light And Dark Tantra
Anandamurti, like all wise yogis in the history of tantra yoga, was against the use of occult powers. They naturally develop in more advanced practitioners of tantra yoga, but the external use of them is always prohibited by the great masters. But why do they exist, if they are not supposed to be used? There is the internal expression of occult force and the external expression. The internal is natural and given to one by the Macrocosm, as the Macrocosm has really shared a part of its own power. Occult power is always the power of the Macrocosm and never really belongs to any microcosmic, incarnated mind. The “external” use of occult power involves the will and intentions of the microcosmic entity, and not necessarily the Will of the Macrocosm. In this case the microcosm is usurping the power of the Macrocosm, and because this expression is robbed of the Macrocosm, subtle imbalances are created. Whenever a microcosm creates a vibration in the living universe that is not in harmony with Tao, the moral order of the Macrocosm, then reactions are created. In yoga actions are called karma and their latent reactions are called samskara.
I will use the case of my spiritual grandfathers to distinguish between internal and external use of occult power. When I was in my early twenties I had dreams that I was a woman in my past life. It made me feel very pure. I wasn’t sure if it was literal or a symbolic truth. I was a psychology student very familiar with Jung’s ideas of the “anima,” the feminine, unconscious part of the male psyche. The “animus” was termed the masculine part of the feminine psyche. Contemplating this idea never created any confusions nor distortions. On the contrary, I began to feel that transcending one’s exclusive sexual identification was the key to transcending “maya,” the great illusion. On the inside it is quite sane and healthy for a man to discover his unconscious feminine qualities as they make one more whole and complete. One remains a man, of course, and with the natural desires of a man. However, the impulsive qualities of masculinity begin to wane. In my case, I lost all sexual desire.
I asked Chidghananda about my dreams. I wanted to know if these were symbolic dreams or if perhaps I really was a woman in my past life. He said that I was indeed a woman. He said, “excuse me, but you were indeeed a lady,” just in case some masculine part of me may be offended by this information. I wasn’t in any way offended, he realized this and giggled as if to say “I just wanted to make sure..” He told me stories about this person and even how she died. I only had seen fragments of this life in a dream but he was filling in so many details that I had never seen. When he realized his knowledge exceeded my own, he stopped and said “okay, that is enough for now.” He really helped me to understand something very deep. Once the sexual desires were all transmuted into meditation, my mind had tremendous energy. He began to teach me about spiritual healing and I recalled Tireseas, the blind sage with healing powers who was mysteriously both male and female. He told me to always sleep alone and to never share a room with other people nor let people touch my bed. Most of my work would be done while sleeping and my mind would be very sensitive to the vibrations of other people while I was undergoing this healing training. However, I began to lose the desire to sleep until I was only sleeping half an hour every night. I was not tired, and I meditated instead of slept.
All was well when I was under the guidance of Chidghananda. However, I had to return to the U.S. after the Arms Drop trial in the Supreme Court of India. I lived in another community with other monastics. They had different ideas for me, however. They wanted me to be a monastic with a very public and global profile after my experience of house arrest during the Arms Drop Trial and giving interviews to the international press. They started to come down on me only because I began to doubt them and ask questions about the Arms Drop, which I had already realized that they were actually involved with. The leader of this group was Shamitananda, who would later become the CobraKiller. He riled up 5 of his closest followers to attack me. Most of them couldn’t confront me personally, only Shamitananda; the rest of them bashed me behind my back like cowards. He told them all that I was “too high” and that I needed to be brought down. That very same night I had a dream in which I saw all of them as dark figures. Shamitananda approached me, turned around and touched me with his rear, which had a huge stringer like a wasp. I slept for several hours, which was highly unusual at the time, and woke up feeling very heavy. Later, a nun who was part of the group came up to me with a cruel look in her eyes and said “so, you are still human?”
Whereas Chidghananda was using his mental force to guide me into helping me understand who I was without aggressive interference, these people were using their mental force to try and manipulate me into fulfilling their projection of who I should be and what I should do with my life. I thought it quite absurd that a group of people twice the age of my 23 years were so intensely focused on me. I had a terrible headache the next day and I spat some black mucus. I began to sleep a lot more and the headaches became very intense. Slowly I began to understand the effects of the dream. I began to feel the hatred that they sent me. I would see their faces one by one and spit out the black mucus until I finally felt my mind return to normal. After that, they all had spiritual falls. Shamitananda’s was the most dramatic, as he tried to murder his unrequited love, a nun, with cobra venom. The others also had their scandals and most of them left their monastic positions. It was very clear to me that they received their negative reactions very quickly for their transgressions. The nun who asked me if I was still human after the attack even got stomach cancer.
I had terrible headaches and was diagnosed with a strange brain growth in my right parietal lobe. I knew it was a psychic phenomenon and that this physical manifestation of disease was but a bundle of psychic energy that these people had imposed upon me. At the same time the friends of the CobraKiller started a rumor that I would die before the age of 40 because of my intense spiritual experiences. I doubt they meant it is a compliment. People heard them talking about my death on several occasions.
The Flying Frozen Turkey
Nothing in this universe is an accident, all is incident. The closer our meditation moves toward the First Cause of OM, the more we see the universe as the dream of the Supreme Consciousness instead of a series of disconnected accidents in alienated minds. What seemed like accidents were but misconceptions of reality from minds too caught up in the mundane to notice the subtle movements of meaning trying to break through our layers of obliquity. Reality is more meaningful and circumstances in life have more of a symbolic and moral meaning than our intellect and our mundane desires can conceive of. Creation is always trying to guide us closer to the Atman by showing us the way through life by creating interesting dramas and synchronizations. “Time is a moving image of eternity,” wrote Plato. Sometimes the signs that appear to guide us appear from beyond time. The responses sometimes manifest before all of the questions and conflicts manifest in our awareness. Perhaps a dream foretells something important or some great synchronicity continues to repeat itself cyclically in our lives. Somehow, one was prepared for what was yet to come and this synchronicity inspires one with awe. The greater “I” within shows one from beyond time what one needs to know to let go of time’s little tricks and live in the eternal now.
I recently resolved one of the greatest mysteries of my life. I have never been able to provide anything close to a rational explanation for this most absurd experience. My friends and family have always enjoyed this story. People who don’t know me may think me crazy.
I was living with some yogi monks in the Ozarks while in my mid-twenties. One morning I had to pick up a nun very early in the morning at a far away bus station. She was asleep on the return trip. Just when daylight broke and I could see the beautiful countryside there appeared some flying object in my peripheral vision. I turned my head and saw just a dark blur about 50 feet away from me along the side of the highway. It looked like it was coming straight toward me. There was only an open field behind its trajectory and it appeared to come out of nowhere. I had at least a few seconds to see it getting closer. At about 20 feet away I realized it was an object that looked like a frozen turkey wrapped in plastic. As it got closer I could see the image of the flying frozen turkey getting clearer and closer. I was dumbfounded. Time was moving very slowly and I kept asking myself “is that really a turkey?” All of the sudden it crashed into the front of the truck. The nun woke up and asked what that sound was. She was startled. I told her just to go back to sleep because she would never believe me. She couldn’t go back to sleep and so she asked me to tell her. I told her and we had a good laugh. We joked that I had been handling too much basil on our farm. It always made me feel happy to work with the basil and make pesto. Perhaps it made me too happy and gave me creative visions? I felt that this experience made us friends. She noticed it was dawn and told me the meaning of the her monastic name, Usha, or dawn. It refers to a state of sunrise when birds start to sing.
Years later this person got involved with a dark rebellion within her order. She started making alliances with perverse people like the infamous CobraKiller. I was not a monk but they wanted me on their side and insisted on alliance but I resisted. I just got out of jail in India for the dirty acts of this order. I was in the wrong place at such a time and I was involved in an international legal case. I defended this organization in front of the press of India and the BBC while I was under house arrest. Everyone loved me because I spoke well of them but they never told me the truth about the arms drop. I was used as a public speaker by the organization. They knew that I was suspicious and they felt ashamed that they were lying to me. They used to say I was somebody so very special and then they started to hate me as much as they loved me. This nun hated me so much that she began to attack my mother by creating lies about her character so as to completely destroy our image in this society. Other monastics also jumped on the band wagon and started inventing all sorts of lies. It harmed my mother very much and sent her on a negative spiral in life in which she ended up being very depressed. My mother followed me into this yoga society and hardly even knew these people yet they attacked her. I have never tried to forgive the nun. I have always thought someday in the future I will forgive her, but seeing how she has been very cruel to others as well, it is easy to put it off.
The other day a friend reminded me of the name Usha when describing the bird songs at dawn. I recalled the experience with the nun Usha and thought of the “bird song” that morning 20 years ago manifested as the thud of a big Butterball turkey! I wondered why I had such a mysterious experience with a person that turned out to be very negative. Finally, artha, eureka! It was now so perfectly clear. Usha was the goddess who called the dawn, not with a beautiful bird song, but with a dead turkey that crashed against the bumper. She would later attack me and my mother but the universe had already chided her from beyond time and has her showcased in its Theatre of the Absurd. Who needs revenge? Everything is already resolved. It is so easy to forgive a turkey.
The Sons of Brahmins
There was once a foreign visitor to Ananda Nagar, India. He was supposed to only be there for one month. He got lost in the deep meditation of the spiritual environment which had been cultivated over thousands of years by yogis who could come to finish their spiritual work down by that river and enter the final stages of samadhi.
He would enter the state of breathlessness for long periods of time. Many of the Indian monks hated him for this, while others loved him. People started coming to him with their confessions; older monks who were tortured by the communists. That brought him down for a while, as well as the arms drop.
The old saints were dying off with strange neurological diseases and brain tumors because they ate too many sins from the irresponsible and fallen spiritual society. The sangha was becoming a madhouse and the true saints said that their own sangha (spiritual society) would kill the saints.
He returned home, and continued his practices in another place. The same thing happened. He was hated as well as loved. Some of those who loved him ended up being the most selfish, however. The monastics would bring him the cases nobody else could manage. If they thought he was too high in meditation, they would place a “crazy brother” in his custody. There were rumors that he could heal and some people said he was a saint and a “prototype for future human evolution.” What a valued possession! Little did they know that they were making him ill, aggrandizing their own ambitious egos, and creating a scapegoat for all of their own frustrated illusions that they would later cash in on.
I had a conversation with this friend the other day. He left them long ago to regain his life and health. They still want to bring him back and some still say he is a saint. What was the “saint’s” reply? He laughed heartily and said: “those sons of …..b…b…b….b….brahmins!”
He is still alive, but considering the state of collective insanity on the planet, that could very well change. These big brothers have too much burden to carry right now. So that a little dharmic, moral order can begin to influence human society again, there must first be some major cleansing. He says that people trapped in the human, materialistic urban matrices are becoming physically and mentally ill due to the inability to harmonize their physical, mental, and spiritual strata of existence with society, nature, the planet and the universe. This recluse friend doubts if modern humans really are fit to continue evolving on this planet. His opinion matters because to me because I have seen him heal many incurable diseases simply by looking at somebody. These people healed aren’t patients because he isn’t a healer, at least he doesn’t consider himself one. They are just people who happen to cross his path at the opportune time. I dare not give away his identity or his whereabouts because the people would devour him with their troubles.
He sees all illness as a projection of mental conflicts or imbalances. By intuitively seeing the illness as distorted thoughts or repressed emotions such as fear, anger, or insecurity, he sees how this flow of mental energy interacts with the organs and glands of the body. Maybe this person can’t tell you so much scientifically about the immune system, T4 cells, etc., but he has been known to heal cancer. Maybe one can’t empirically verify how he does it but it is easy to verify that the cancer disappeared. As a close friend, I ask him how he does it. He doesn’t give away many secrets if one isn’t first capable of understanding them, but one thing I have gathered is that he has some way of taking these illnesses into his own being, like the classic “sin eaters.” Perhaps the cancer of one person gives him diarrhea for a few days, or AIDS makes him physically weak for a few weeks. His advanced meditation and yoga practice constantly heal him of these illnesses. If he stops meditating or spends too much time in the city with the mundane, then he gets ill. Also, I said “almost all” diseases. Schizofrenia and other severe mental illnesses are the great challenge for any healer.
What he shared with me is that all illnesses are clusters of unprocessed, unconscious thoughts and emotions that attack the physical body by first creating imbalances in the glandular system. For him not to have the same illness, he must process the thoughts and emotions of the other as if they were his own. If he doesn’t understand these mental patterns behind the illness, then his physical body suffers the same symptoms as the afflicted. I can’t get him to tell me how he does it exactly. He is smug in his non-dualist philosophy and simply says that there is only one being in the universe and this being is only understood by the unprejudiced, tranquil and insightful minds. By understanding this fundamental truth, the mind becomes free of all complexes and relieves the body of having to bear the cross of all of the ego’s ignorance and unconsciousness that create illness and disharmony. He really can explain a little more, but prefers to let people figure it out for themselves.