Story: Robert Adams

[Guest guest]

Satsang with Robert Adams

 

One of the first stops after leaving Boulder that my best friend

and I took in our new home-on-wheels ("Lakshmi") was in Sedona, AZ to

go to satsang with Robert Adams. Many of you may know that Robert

Adams (whose body died a couple of years ago) sat before Ramana for

years in Tiruvannammalai. Anyway, we knew that he was aging and that

a special opportunity awaited us. Now, keep in mind that my

consciously spiritual journey was rather new and I had previously

immersed myself in the Satsang Mecca called Boulder. I had really

gotten a feeling for what satsang was "supposed to" look like and

went to Robert Adams' place fully armed with my finest "spiritual"

clothing, "spiritual" face, "spiritual" voice, and "spiritual"

sitting posture.

 

When we arrived, spiritually carrying our zaphus behind our hips

in silence, heads held humbly down, we were quite surprised to find a

room full of relaxed people hanging around, just acting normal. In

fact, they were so talkative with each other and easy-going and

animated that it made me wonder if we were really at the right house.

I came prepared for silence and holiness and the scene was

unsettlingly ordinary. There was nothing spiritual about the place,

like decorations or altars or anything that I recall. There may have

been a small photo of Ramana. So I sat down and prepared to

"meditate." Needless to say, I simply couldn't keep my eyes closed.

There was too much fun going on in the room. I struggled with it for

a while, but that became so darned uncomfortable. Eventually, I just

sat there figuring it would get holy, maybe, after Robert came in.

 

You can imagine my surprise when he did come in. While I was

expecting a spiritual-looking man dressed in Indian garb, what he was

actually wearing was a pair of baggy, silky jogging pants and a

tee-shirt and he had on a hot pink rumpled-up baseball cap that was

on crooked! Because he had Parkinson's Disease, he kind of made his

way across the living room in a slow-motion shuffle and sat himself

in the chair reserved for him. Everyone made room for him as he

passed by and with great affection touched their palms together in

reverence.

 

He sat there for some time. It was real quiet in the room, but

not an "it's-time-to-be-quiet" kind of quiet. It was just naturally

quiet. And no one said anything. So, trained as I was to recognize

a jnani, well.... no way. This guy was plainly sitting there with

his mouth open and his eyes half closed. He was hunched over with

his skin just hanging on his face. There was nothing that I could

"read." And boy, did I try. I looked for some kind of radiant glow,

some kind of visible wisdom, some hint of Ramana, and nothing! I

looked into his eyes and it was as if no one was home. My mind was

just struck dumb.

 

Eventually, he jerked his arm up, sort of pointing a finger. That

was the cue for the person holding the boombox to hit "play." I

thought, "Oh. THIS must be the holy part." I closed my eyes in full

expectation of sacred words or ethereal music or at least some

sanskrit bhajans. To my utter shock, the thin and twangy voice of

Willie Nelson's "Always on my mind" came singing out! The whole room

went into an uproar. Everyone was laughing and singing along and

swaying from side to side in enjoyment, dramatic crescendos at each

chorus, "Telll meeeee. Tell me that your sweet love hasn't

died...etc." Robert? He just sat there, expressionless, his body

unmoving, hunched in his chair. No sparkly eyes, no nothing.

 

By then, my mouth was dangling open as well. My mind had

completely come to a halt. It could not make sense of this at all.

It didn't know and could not begin to interpret what it was seeing.

The next selections were Kenny Rogers singing really sentimental

lovesongs. Spiritual Me briefly noticed how they were just riddled

with illusion and duality. Rather than condemning them or

spiritually correcting them, in this satsang, everyone was laughing

so hard that tears were coming out. It was so infectious that before

I knew it, I was singing along and laughing too. It got to be so that

my sides were aching when we were through.

 

Afterwards, with everyone returning to normal breathing and some

sighs and residual giggles here and there, I had the thought, "Well,

maybe now it will get serious." There was a moment of silence. Then

suddenly, someone said, "Hey! How about Mexican?!" This was met by

an outburst of cheering! Soon everyone got up and grouped together

in cars to go to a local restaurant. Slightly bewildered but happy

to go along I arrived at a scene that I found to be loud and crowded

and chaotic. Shortly after we were seated, I looked over at Robert

and marveled to see that he had a bright green margarita in front of

him.

 

Before leaving, I didn't want to miss the opportunity to speak

with him even though at the time I sure didn't know what to make of

him....but all that came out was something like, "I like your hat."

And he said something like, "Thanks."

 

 

The sweet, natural happiness that I experienced in his presence

(except, of course, when I was thinking) was so very thick and

blatant. All the ideas I had picked up about what it is to be in the

presence of Truth were permanently cracked. The mind just couldn't

get around the chasm between what it thought holiness was supposed to

be like and what it had actually met that day with Robert Adams. In

its attempt to cross that chasm, it had fallen into it, giving rise

to an absolutely undeniable experience of joyfulness and peace.

Attachment: (image/jpeg) Clear Day Bkgrd.jpg [not stored]

[Guest guest]

Thanks Kheyala for that story about Robert Adams. It was great.

I love to read the lives of sages.

I agree with Eric that stories are an important way of bringing

enlightenment to people (me). I read a book by Geoff Grof and he

said ,among other things, that all thinking is a story. Any thought

is an element in a story. Each of us are sitting somewhere with the

glow of the computer screen campfire illuminating our eager faces,

hoping to hear that one phrase with ultimate meaning or just

something funny or touching.

I love people who want love. If you ask the universe for something

it will give it to you.

Peace and Love,

Bob G.

[Guest guest]

Your story made me cry, Kheyala -- thank you so much! I volunteer at a

hospice and often feel the joy you write about there. People's bodies can

become unbelievably ravaged as they near death, as if the earthly garment is

falling and disintegrating before your eyes. But from many of the folks,

even the "unconscious" ones, a kind of deep, happy clarity issues forth and I

find myself in tears just sitting with them. Plus the fact that helping the

nurses has got to be the most present-centered work I've ever done! This is

such a blessing for me. I'm learning so much about how things really are,

vs. how I think they should be (as you wrote). Love, Holly

[Guest guest]

Dear Bob and Kheyala,

 

What wonderful stories! What a treat for the weekend! That Robert Adams

story was so good and funny. That was my kind of Satsang Kheyala with

country songs and all. Jessica used to write about Robert Adam all the time

about a year or so ago. I don't know if she is still d here but she

will love it!

 

I would like to put all these stories in the next issues of HS magazine.

Bob, I love your story as well. What thrill, car scenes, and suspense. You

could probably make it richer by adding a few more details I think.....like

what eventually happened to Larry. Hopefully he is a law abiding citizen

divorced with 2 kids holding down a stable job. Just kidding Bob. That's

just one scenario.

 

You are all the best

Thanks

Harsha

 

 

bgbbyg [bgbbyg]

Sunday, September 09, 2001 12:43 AM

Re: Story: Robert Adams

 

 

Thanks Kheyala for that story about Robert Adams. It was great.

I love to read the lives of sages.

I agree with Eric that stories are an important way of bringing

enlightenment to people (me). I read a book by Geoff Grof and he

said ,among other things, that all thinking is a story. Any thought

is an element in a story. Each of us are sitting somewhere with the

glow of the computer screen campfire illuminating our eager faces,

hoping to hear that one phrase with ultimate meaning or just

something funny or touching.

I love people who want love. If you ask the universe for something

it will give it to you.

Peace and Love,

Bob G.

 

 

 

 

/join

 

 

 

 

All paths go somewhere. No path goes nowhere. Paths, places, sights,

perceptions, and indeed all experiences arise from and exist in and subside

back into the Space of Awareness. Like waves rising are not different than

the ocean, all things arising from Awareness are of the nature of Awareness.

Awareness does not come and go but is always Present. It is Home. Home is

where the Heart Is. Jnanis know the Heart to be the Finality of Eternal

Being. A true devotee relishes in the Truth of Self-Knowledge, spontaneously

arising from within into It Self. Welcome all to a.

 

 

 

Your use of is subject to

[Guest guest]

Dear Holly,

If I were on my deathbed, I would want someone like you with me.

Sincerely,

Kheyala

-

Hbarrett47 (AT) aol (DOT) com

Sunday, September 09, 2001 8:22 AM

Re: Story: Robert Adams

Your story made me cry, Kheyala -- thank you so much! I volunteer at

a hospice and often feel the joy you write about there. People's

bodies can become unbelievably ravaged as they near death, as if the

earthly garment is falling and disintegrating before your eyes. But

from many of the folks, even the "unconscious" ones, a kind of deep,

happy clarity issues forth and I find myself in tears just sitting

with them. Plus the fact that helping the nurses has got to be the

most present-centered work I've ever done! This is such a blessing

for me. I'm learning so much about how things really are, vs. how I

think they should be (as you wrote). Love,

Holly/join

All paths go

somewhere. No path goes nowhere. Paths, places, sights, perceptions,

and indeed all experiences arise from and exist in and subside back

into the Space of Awareness. Like waves rising are not different than

the ocean, all things arising from Awareness are of the nature of

Awareness. Awareness does not come and go but is always Present. It

is Home. Home is where the Heart Is. Jnanis know the Heart to be the

Finality of Eternal Being. A true devotee relishes in the Truth of

Self-Knowledge, spontaneously arising from within into It Self.

Welcome all to a.Your use of is subject

to the