I've been away from the computer recently, after getting a part-time job that requires I use the computer all morning.
The Baba dreams continue -- sometimes about Baba, sometimes about the Meher Spiritual Center. Odd though, that I never dream about Meherabad or Meherazad. However, in the last dream I had about the Meher Spiritual Center, Bhau was living in an attic room in a building there, and I went up and visited him, and we talked about when we first met in 1984. In that dream, the Original Kitchen was high up on a hill, and the lake seemed far, far below. It was almost like looking down a bowl in the high mountains, to a little mountain lake. There were some children down in the lake, and I saw one go under water, and I was concerned that the other children were trying to drown him, but then I relaxed thinking, "that kind of bullying doesn't happen here." There was also some confusion about the room my wife and I were staying in. Someone else was already there. That's all I remember of that dream.
In the last dream I remember having of Baba, he was alive and in a room like an elementary school cafeteria. He was signing books, though not with his regular signature; he was just swiping the pen across the page. I thought, "cool, I can get a book signed by Meher Baba!" But he looked over at me with a suffering, pleading look that said, "no, please don't" It's the only dream I've had of him where he really seemed to be in pain, and I was very startled and concerned, even in the dream, and I sat back down and stayed where I was.
It so happens that I had been keeping an eye out for Meher Baba items on Ebay through a saved search. I would get excited on the rare occasion that a signed copy of God Speaks came up for sale, though, given my limited budget, I was never even able to come close in the bidding. After that dream, I deleted my saved search, and I haven't searched for Meher Baba items on Ebay since. It's not about sadras, sandals, and signatures after all. Chances are, the dream had nothing to do with my Ebay searching, but just in case it was a direct order to lay off, or even worse that such searching for artifacts was creating some sort of suffering, I thought I should discontinue. It's not often that I get the chance to feel like I may be obeying a direct request from Baba.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Framing Photographs
We are back from our trip to the Meher Spiritual Center. It was so nice to be there again. The bliss of being at the place is impossible to describe, so I'm not even going to try. We saw many old friends, including Jeff Wolverton and Bryan West, and made some new ones. I also met Bill Le Page and enjoyed his talks in the Original Kitchen, and one nice formal talk in the Meeting Place.
One thing that's been haunting me since our trip to India is the grief involved with Love -- at least with our trying to love. I saw that with Bill when he was describing how they really didn't know how great Baba's suffering was from those accidents and how great Baba's Love was to bring him all the way out to Australia for a handful of lovers. I saw it in India in Mehera's room, in the spot where she stood looking out the window toward the Umar tree. And I saw it very forcefully in the stone on Merwan's floor, where he pounded his head to relieve him from the suffering involved in coming back into creation. It was also there in Eruch's voice, in a video we saw at Meherabad, when he speaks of his failure to really love Baba as he should be loved. (At the end of a story about how he got upset with Baba for trying to get into some sort of medicine for his stomach after Eruch told him to wait). Eruch, in the video, pointed at Mohammed, walking with his body bent at a ninety degree angle, and said, "there is a real lover of God."
So I continue to feel drawn into this grief, though I don't fully understand it.
While there, we also spent a small fortune -- at least for us -- at Sheriar Books. I've always loved the picture of Baba sitting on the steps of the Manzil e Meem in 1922. They've never been able to track down a small photo for me, so on this trip I purchased the 20" by 24" print of it. It arrived yesterday. I planned to go down to Hobby Lobby or somewhere and buy a frame for it, but it came with so many warnings about archival this and that from Hermes, that I started researching the proper framing of photographs online and learned enough to know that I should hand it over to a professional. I bicycled it over to Frontier Frames here in Santa Fe this morning. In the process, I learned that archival quality framing does not come cheap, but I believe the end result will be worth it.
Thanks to everyone at the Meher Spiritual Center for keeping Baba's Home in the West as such a wonderful place to stay. We all hope to return soon.
One thing that's been haunting me since our trip to India is the grief involved with Love -- at least with our trying to love. I saw that with Bill when he was describing how they really didn't know how great Baba's suffering was from those accidents and how great Baba's Love was to bring him all the way out to Australia for a handful of lovers. I saw it in India in Mehera's room, in the spot where she stood looking out the window toward the Umar tree. And I saw it very forcefully in the stone on Merwan's floor, where he pounded his head to relieve him from the suffering involved in coming back into creation. It was also there in Eruch's voice, in a video we saw at Meherabad, when he speaks of his failure to really love Baba as he should be loved. (At the end of a story about how he got upset with Baba for trying to get into some sort of medicine for his stomach after Eruch told him to wait). Eruch, in the video, pointed at Mohammed, walking with his body bent at a ninety degree angle, and said, "there is a real lover of God."
So I continue to feel drawn into this grief, though I don't fully understand it.
While there, we also spent a small fortune -- at least for us -- at Sheriar Books. I've always loved the picture of Baba sitting on the steps of the Manzil e Meem in 1922. They've never been able to track down a small photo for me, so on this trip I purchased the 20" by 24" print of it. It arrived yesterday. I planned to go down to Hobby Lobby or somewhere and buy a frame for it, but it came with so many warnings about archival this and that from Hermes, that I started researching the proper framing of photographs online and learned enough to know that I should hand it over to a professional. I bicycled it over to Frontier Frames here in Santa Fe this morning. In the process, I learned that archival quality framing does not come cheap, but I believe the end result will be worth it.
Thanks to everyone at the Meher Spiritual Center for keeping Baba's Home in the West as such a wonderful place to stay. We all hope to return soon.
Beloved
Beloved,
You are the monster
Under the bed
And you are the comforting angel
I am still
Just a child.
You are the monster
Under the bed
And you are the comforting angel
I am still
Just a child.
Monday, May 16, 2011
The Awakener Video
The Awakener, which has been up in its entirety on Google Video for a while, has made its way over to YouTube. I don't know whether it is up with permission of the producers of the film or not, though I believe they must be aware of it, if they aren't also the ones who put it out there for free.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
The Universal Work Unfolding
I've always had a feeling that what Paul Hawken describes in his many presentations is the result of Meher Baba's Universal Work, though perhaps these stirrings of it on the gross plane is the just the tip of the iceberg. I heard him speak, on the radio, of a great awakening taking place in the world comparable to the great peace that occurred after Jesus' advent. I even sent him a copy of Charles Haynes's book The Awakener, though it was never acknowledged.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Barely-Remembered Dream
I was traveling with Baba. He turned to me and asked me about something embarrassing, some secret sexual desire or something along those lines. I told him, because what could I do? He knew it all already, and he nodded his head and waved his hand as if to say, "Don't worry about it." I had a feeling that not only was it all a dream, but it was Baba's dream, and I really didn't need to worry.
Later on in the dream, I was trying to do something like locate someone Baba had known in the twenties or thirties. I had tracked him down, but he had a different name. Somehow the identification was linked to a set of possessions -- all I can remember is an old Vespa-type scooter. I kept trying to make the connection between the person Baba used to know and the person I had located. I knew Baba would be pleased to see this person again, and I wanted to bring him into Baba's presence, (I have the sense it was still the same dream, and I was still traveling with Baba, and he was nearby), but somehow the identification of the person was proving difficult, and I was struggling to put the pieces together. I almost felt, after I woke up, that I was like a Tibetan Lama trying to identify a Tulku. The possessions were in my mind both like a film of the person with Baba in the past, and laid out on a piece of paper like an inventory of images.
Later on in the dream, I was trying to do something like locate someone Baba had known in the twenties or thirties. I had tracked him down, but he had a different name. Somehow the identification was linked to a set of possessions -- all I can remember is an old Vespa-type scooter. I kept trying to make the connection between the person Baba used to know and the person I had located. I knew Baba would be pleased to see this person again, and I wanted to bring him into Baba's presence, (I have the sense it was still the same dream, and I was still traveling with Baba, and he was nearby), but somehow the identification of the person was proving difficult, and I was struggling to put the pieces together. I almost felt, after I woke up, that I was like a Tibetan Lama trying to identify a Tulku. The possessions were in my mind both like a film of the person with Baba in the past, and laid out on a piece of paper like an inventory of images.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Dream of Tukaram
I feel somewhat apologetic that I'm using this blog as a repository of dreams. It doesn't make very interesting reading for Baba lovers in general, but I want someplace to put these because I forget them so quickly.
Last night, I had very complex dream, but in the middle of it, there was a giant enthroned in a tribal community of some sort. Everyone was terrified. He looked like the type of giant who would reach down and eat someone in one bite, and he was flanked by bodyguards who, while not as large as him, were giants in their own right.
I walked up to the throne and said, "Jai Baba" to the giant. The giant transformed into a handsome man in a white turban and descended the steps from the throne.
"I am Tukaram," he said, "and we were friends in ages past."
We embraced awkwardly.
That portion of the dream was in the midst of some great mytho-poetic epic. Tukaram was the third of a series of three giants that I was trying to deal with. I had an elder/guide/teacher, but he had been trapped in a dungeon during most of my journey, and at one point, I was trying to explain to him all that had happened, and how I thought it connected to some sort of prophecy -- none of which I can remember at this point.
And the whole thing was at the center of a series of very silly dreams -- I was camping with my son, but I kept forgetting the tent and sleeping bag. I was feeding pickles to something that lived under a compost pile. I also had books for sale, but they were also buried in the compost pile. People kept coming to the cave where I was sitting, digging them out of the compost, and giving me money for them. (Zorba the Greek was the only book I specifically remember being purchased).
Why would I dream of Tukaram? What role does he play down there in my unconscious? I hardly know anything about him. I certainly don't believe it was a divine visitation from an old friend -- that's sort of like the joke that people who claim to remember their past lives were always someone famous, never a sewer worker of a rag picker. But it's a curious dream none-the-less.
Last night, I had very complex dream, but in the middle of it, there was a giant enthroned in a tribal community of some sort. Everyone was terrified. He looked like the type of giant who would reach down and eat someone in one bite, and he was flanked by bodyguards who, while not as large as him, were giants in their own right.
I walked up to the throne and said, "Jai Baba" to the giant. The giant transformed into a handsome man in a white turban and descended the steps from the throne.
"I am Tukaram," he said, "and we were friends in ages past."
We embraced awkwardly.
That portion of the dream was in the midst of some great mytho-poetic epic. Tukaram was the third of a series of three giants that I was trying to deal with. I had an elder/guide/teacher, but he had been trapped in a dungeon during most of my journey, and at one point, I was trying to explain to him all that had happened, and how I thought it connected to some sort of prophecy -- none of which I can remember at this point.
And the whole thing was at the center of a series of very silly dreams -- I was camping with my son, but I kept forgetting the tent and sleeping bag. I was feeding pickles to something that lived under a compost pile. I also had books for sale, but they were also buried in the compost pile. People kept coming to the cave where I was sitting, digging them out of the compost, and giving me money for them. (Zorba the Greek was the only book I specifically remember being purchased).
Why would I dream of Tukaram? What role does he play down there in my unconscious? I hardly know anything about him. I certainly don't believe it was a divine visitation from an old friend -- that's sort of like the joke that people who claim to remember their past lives were always someone famous, never a sewer worker of a rag picker. But it's a curious dream none-the-less.
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