Q&A with Swamiji ....Coincidence -this is freaking me out!!!!!

[Guest guest]

OM NAMAH SIVAYA

 

Dear Swamiji,

 

the story below is an example of what i mean. originally the story

caught my eye because the author's spiritual name is the same as one

that a Neem Karoli Baba devotee once gave me. but there are so many

coincidences or parallels meaningful to me in this article, i can't

list them all, and every time i read it i seem to find another one.

it makes me think that pondering whether I am in the right place, in

the best situation is a waste of energy. i mean, what if in life's

coincidences is where the real meaning and lessons lay. is the

symbolism we see in life's events just the tip of the iceberg, with

increased awareness maybe the answers are always there. i mean, not

all of us have the advantage of the guru manifest in a single

person. you know, someone we can hang out with and learn from, etc.

 

now i realize that you may be reluctant to entertain the question,

as it can be dangerous to philosophize in general terms. things are

not so easy in the world of spirituality. knowing when to trust our

instincts, and have faith in someone is very difficult in this Kali

Yuga. i understand completely. this story is a specific example of

where i am coming from when i asked the question about coincidence.

 

i also thought the article may benefit others in this group. it is

from Neem Karoli Baba Ashram's newsletter. oh, and i'd like to

mention i never signed up for the newsletter it just came in the

mail one day. You know, just by coincidence.

 

JAI MA

 

THE DAY I MET MAHARAJ-JI

 

I went to India in the winter of 1971. I had been studying Indian

music for a number of years and had wanted to go to India for some

time. I was also a member of a yoga society call Ananda Marga

(the "Path of Bliss"). I wanted to sit at the feet of the guru, to

have him hit me on the head and put me into the state of samadhi. I

had an extreme longing to experience the darshan of a realized being.

 

There were five of us, the day we landed in Delhi we were met at the

airport by another member of the qroup, who told us that the leader

of the Yoga Society had been thrown into jail, purportedly for

murder. Furthermore, the police were looking for western Ananda

Margiis, as we were considered terrorists. It seemed like a good

time to quit the yoga society and focus on our Indian music studies.

 

A few days after we arrived, we walked into the Piccadilly bookstore

in Connaught Circus. The bookseller called us over and pulled out a

picture of Ram Dass. "Do you know this man?" he asked. "Yes I do,"

I answered. I remembered thinking that Ram Dass was one of the few

spiritual leaders I still trusted, because he talked about wanting

to eat pizza. The bookseller pulled out a picture of Maharaj-ji and

said, "This is his guru." Then he said, "You must go meet him. Ram

Dass is around the corner at the Palace Hotel.

 

We immediately headed to the Palace Hotel; don't ask me why. The

desk clerk said, "You just missed him. Tomorrow morning you take

the Taj Express to Brindaban and see him there." I wasn't so sure

we needed to do this. I mean, we had just gotten rid of one guru;

did we really need another?

 

The next day we boarded the train to Brindaban. At the Hanuman

temple, we were told to go to a hotel and come again tomorrow. We

discovered the hotel was full of Westerners we had known with

Muktananda, Ram Dass, Krishna Das, Balaram Das, Anjani. It was a

zoo.

 

The next morning we woke early and walked to the Hanuman Temple. I

was of two minds: I was still feeling that I really didn't need

another guru, but I also thought, "what if this guru is really the

one?" Then I spotted him, or so I thought. I pranamed deeply, but

it was only the gardener. I saw another fellow. Was that him? But

it was the gatekeeper. I was led through a door into the walled

area in the back. There, sitting on a table in the sun, was a

little man in a blanket. He seemed to be bouncing around on the

table, a bundle of energy, surrounded by laughing and smiling

people. We came right up to him and offered our prasad and

pranams. We sat down at his feet. He was chattering and seemed to

be in continuous motion, filled with life.

 

I remember my first thought when I saw him; The poor man is blind!

Instantly, Maharaj-ji turned to me and BUGGED his eyes out. I could

feel something in my chest, kind of like Superman's X-Ray vision.

Guess he's not blind.

 

"Where's you guru? What happened to you guru?" he asked, like it was

the biggest joke he'd ever heard. We each gave different

answers. "We don't have a guru." "Our guru's in jail."

Maharaj-ji said, "Ah! Krishna is born in jail, now Krishna goes back

to jail." I thought to myself, "Oops! Our guru IS really Krishna!

We have to get back immediately. Maharaj-ji said, "He used to be a

railway clerk." The translator said, "A madman who deceived a lot

of Americans."

 

Maharaj-ji said, "Americans will believe anything you tell them."

He asked me, "Who is the Guru?" Well, I didn't know. I'd already

been wrong twice that morning on that very subject. A man was

walking in the distance along with a cow. Maharaj-ji pointed at

him. "He is the guru." Okay, now I was really confused. Then

Maharaj-ji said, "Americans are the guru, because they put MILK in

CARDBOARD BOXES. They put a man on the moon." Everybody was

laughing now! The translator explained, "You see, the Saint see

everyone as a Saint." "Sing a song," Maharaj-ji said. So we sang.

Maharaj-ji loved it.

 

He sent us across the courtyard, where we were fed the most

sumptuous meal I had ever eaten in my life. When we finished, there

was more food on our plates than when we had started. I felt

completely satisfied for the first time in many years. And in my

mind I wondered, "Who is this guy and how does he know all of this?"

We had heard that the guru could slap you on the head and put you

into the state of samadhi, or God-consciousness. I had also heard

that you could tell if the state was real by checking the person's

pulse.

 

The next day I arrived late for darshan. When Maharaj-ji saw me, he

immediately called me to come over to the tucket and told me to sit

up front. Guru Datt Sharma was sitting there as well. Maharaj-ji

slapped him on the head, and he appeared to go into some kind of

trance state. Maharaj-ji turned to me and said, "Check his pulse."

I took his wrist and realized that I didn't really know HOW to check

someone's pulse. "Try to wake him up," Maharaj-ji said. He grabbed

my hand and poked Guru Datt Sharma in the eyes with my fingers. "Now

can you do this?" Maharaj-ji asked me pointedly. "No," I

replied, "but I'd like to…"

 

Two fellows lifted the man up by the armpits and carried him over to

a room off the courtyard. Throughout the morning Maharaj-ji had me

go check on him to see that he was still in his trance state. I was

a bit embarrassed by all this attention and thought, "Who is this

guy and how does he do these things?"

 

We came back the next day and discovered that Maharaj-ji was gone

and no one knew where. Somehow we heard that he MIGHT have gone to

Allahabad, so we took the overnight train and sure enough we found

him at a devotee's house. There was no longer any question in my

mind about who was the guru. I was quite sure that Maharaj-ji was

the guru, and I was determined to get up close and in his face until

I got what I had come for.

 

For ten days, I went to the house, Maharaj-ji talked to the person

to the right of me, to the left of me, in front of me, and in back

of me. I was completely invisible. I spent hours at his feet and

he completely ignored me.

 

Finally one day I thought to myself, "Maharaj-ji, if you're really

my guru, you better do something. Slap me on the head, show me some

attention or I'm out of here." Within minutes, he came into the

room. I was sitting nearly under his tucket. He looked at me with

total love and delight, like a grandfather looking at a small child,

and whacked me on the head. "Get Ram Dass quick," he said. I jumped

up and found Ram Dass. "Give him your maka," Maharaj-ji told Ram

Dass, who took off his beads and handed it over. Maharaj-ji took it

and did japa and gave me the mala.

 

And that was it for me. I'd been adopted and felt totally at home.

 

Can all this be just a coincidence? Thank you and God bless.

 

, "Nanda" <chandimaakijai>

wrote:

>

>

> Question from Eric:

> Is there such a thing as coincidence?

>

> Swamiji's response:

> Coincidence means a correspondence in position or character which

is

> extremely similar and yet unexplainable, as if by chance.

Certainly

> there are a lot of things that we cannot explain.