Still Dancing With Love

De Simple Silence.

Contents

[modifier] Fate

For some time after coming to the States certain difficulties hampered me in any business transactions that had to be dealt with. For instance the signing of a new contract, changing my place of work, or in fact anything that required a different approach to my living in America, was very often held up by a feeling that I should ask Baba what He would wish me to do.

This of course had been for seven years in India my only way of life, and when I left India Baba gave me no fresh instructions about the matter.

So backward and forward went cables and letters, and things were held up and sometimes got very messy.

Suddenly, having had no specific orders, I began to wonder if this was really what I was supposed to do. I therefore sent a cable to Baba, « Shall I write or cable to you every time I have to make a change in my work or shall I go where fate leads me, you being Fate? »

Baba wasted no time. An immediate return cable said, « Go where fate leads you. »

This cable seemed to bring me much nearer to Baba in any business arrangements than when I had cabled or written to Him before embarking on anything new. Fate is wonderful.

[modifier] I Have Come Not To Teach But To Awaken

The day after my arrival in India in 1939, Baba sent for me, had me place my chair so that I faced Him exactly almost knee to knee, and then after looking at me for a moment spelled on His alphabet board, « Now you are here, are you going to stay? »

To say the least of it I was much taken aback. I had left my country, crossed the seas of danger, and arrived penniless in India. All this at Baba’s direct order.

When Baba said this to me I seemed unable to answer Him. I almost wanted to go back. Friends had not spared me their opinions of my running away from the war, not wanting to help, etc., etc.

Therefore, instead of immediately replying that of course I only wanted to stay with Baba, I protected myself by asking, « Baba why don’t You tell me what to do? You always do. »

Baba then helped me by saying, « I want this to be your choice, but 100 percent I should like you to stay. » That of course clinched the matter. I saw my stupidity and said that I really wished to stay with Baba.

This, however, was not the last of the matter. Everyone at that time in the ashram seemed contented and happy to be there.

I, however, had the remnants of a wild break with my country, and gradually a kind of pride (I assure you totally unrecognized by myself) arose, making me feel that I must be a good disciple, staying there when I was not sure that I really wanted to.

One day Baba sent for me and said lovingly, « You are a jewel of a disciple, staying here when you don’t really want to. » I, however, was not yet ready to see what He was trying to show me and smilingly accepted the comment.

A few months later He again sent for me and again said, « You are a jewel of a disciple, staying here when you don’t really want to. »

Immediately I remembered that once before He had used exactly the same words to me, but this time I was ready for it and was overwhelmed when I saw the ridiculous pride that had been growing within me.

I burst into tears and said, « Oh, now Baba I understand what You mean. »

He sat there smiling, loving, and finally after my outburst and recovery from same we laughed together, but I can assure you that that particular piece of pride did not return. Others did, of course.

If Baba had told me of my growing pride I feel sure it would not have had the same effect as when He used another way of waking me from my self-satisfied slumber.

[modifier] Snakes

Some graceful but extremely dangerous snakes lived in the trees near Lonavla. They were known as the flying snakes, were largish and quite long.

These creatures, in one movement that literally flowed through the whole body, threw themselves into the air from one branch and with a strange wavy movement that passed from head to tail would arrive safely and softly on a neighboring tree. One could with amazement stand at a safe distance and for a long time watch this strange graceful performance. Sometimes several snakes at a time gave a performance and the effect was almost hypnotic.

It was, however, unsafe to go too near to these flying beauties.

As a defense against potential danger they used their tails and struck out sharply, usually at the legs of unwary human beings, causing some kind of disintegration of the bones to set in. In those days — fifty years ago when we saw them — there was no cure and the slow disintegration would in time bring the victim to an unpleasant death.

Quite a few different types of snakes had their homes on the small hills surrounding Meherabad, and it was advisable to be most careful when exercising the dogs.

One day Elizabeth was walking with Warrior — her favorite and much-loved dog at that time — when to her horror the dog left her and went over to investigate a huge coiled snake.

Warrior, although a well-trained and obedient dog, refused at her call to leave his investigation of this new and unusual creature and gradually circled nearer and nearer to it. Neither Elizabeth’s orders nor her screams affected him. This was definitely something he should know about. She did not understand. Elizabeth finally decided on a counter attraction. She lay down on her back, cycled with her arms and legs, at the same time making strange, calling sounds.

She was successful.

Warrior decided that the strange behavior of his usually conventional mistress was more interesting than the unknown object and ran hurriedly to her side. Before he could escape again she had him on his leash going back to the Meherabad gate and away from this interesting creature.

The worst experience we had with snakes was in the coconut plantation where Baba took us in Ceylon. Enormous cobras lurked in unexpected places.

I remember one day turning a corner and coming face to face with a very large, long snake. With no hesitation I turned and ran as I am sure I never had since my younger and more athletic days.

At the end of the run, near the house, I met Baba who took my adventure seriously and sympathetically.

Although the Ceylonese plantation was a place of great and unusual beauty, I think Baba decided that his disciples would be safer elsewhere, away from these creatures, and after a few days, He said farewell to our host and departed, taking us to a less dangerous life in the hills above the river.

[modifier] Three Stories Told By Baba

THE MILKMAN

A Perfect Master had a wonderful disciple whose time for the realization of God seemed to be not far off.

He had, however, one very great difficulty. He would obey his Master implicitly, but some times not exactly enough. Just a little sloppy.

One day the Master gave him an order to knock on the door of the Master’s room promptly at six o’clock the next morning.

He was, however, late.

But at six o’clock exactly the milkman knocked on the door, and as the door opened it was he who received the overwhelming flood of realization.

A GREAT OBEDIENCE

A certain Perfect Master had one disciple whose loving obedience was remarkable. He, without hesitation or questioning, would attempt and fulfill the most difficult orders quite simply and with no fuss.

One day the Master almost casually told this man that he must return to his home, kill his young son, and then return to his Master.

Without argument, hesitation, or any sign of refusal he did exactly that.

Upon his return, he found his Master smiling and happy, and standing beside him, well and unharmed, was the disciple’s supposedly dead young son.

ACCEPTANCE

There was once a Perfect Master who was walking along a rough country path which wound its way between and under trees of many varieties. The Master came upon a man seated under one of the trees in the act of meditation.

The man, becoming aware of such a strong spiritual presence, opened his eyes. He immediately reacted to this advanced being with a cry of, « Oh, Master, will you tell me how many more lives I must pass through before realizing God? »

The Master looked at him and replied, « It will be four more lives before you reach your goal. » The yogi reacted badly to this, complaining that it was too long ; especially as he was working so hard to obtain his freedom.

The Master then continued his walk through the trees. After a time he came across another yogi who also opened his eyes and asked the same question as to the amount of time that must pass before he would receive God-realization.

On being told that he had about 300 more years before this longed-for event, he also grumbled, but was not as aggressive as the first yogi had been.

Again the Master walked on, and again a meditating yogi asked the same question.

The Master looked at the tree under which the man was sitting, and saw that it was covered with thousands of small leaves and then replied, « You will have as many lives as there are leaves on this tree. »

The yogi reacted by joyfully saying, « Oh, thank you Master, thank you ; it is such a wonderfully short time. »

Immediately at such submission to the will of God, this yogi received the longed-for realization.

[modifier] Meditation Stories

In the early 1940s during one of our sojourns at Meherabad, Baba gave us a very strong meditation to be done daily. It was tiring and had a very strange effect on the head.

At 5:30 every morning we met in the kitchen, sat in a circle on the floor, and sang over and over the seven names of God.

We were told to keep our minds on those names and mean them. After a time this would cause a mild dizziness and Mani, who accompanied this performance on a small harmonium and therefore was under even more strain than we were, fainted. This discipline lasted for a short time only. Under a month.

Hari, Paramatman, Allah, Ahuramazda, God, Yezdan, and Hu.

This meditation again was done in Meherabad. At midday, summoned by a bell, we went to one of the ground-floor rooms, sat on the floor in a circle, faced the wall, and on a breath-in and breath-out repeated the names of the Avatar, but not out loud. This we did every day for one hour.

It seems that the names of most of the Avatars had two syllables: Jesus, Krishna, Rama, Buddha, to mention a few.

[modifier] Episcopalian

It was wonderful to feel no spiritual narrowness at all in the advice that Baba gave to those who came to visit Him. It was not there anyway.

The following is a story of how He dealt with a friend of mine who was an ardent Episcopalian but who wished to see Baba Himself because of the love her sister and I had for Him.

Baba was in New York in 1956. He gave short interviews to many who did not love Him, but who were interested to see Him because of friends who loved Him and served Him.

Among them was this friend, Elsie.

She was a very honest type of woman and, not wishing in any way to deceive Baba, she came into Baba's beautiful presence and burst out nervously, "I am an Episcopalian."

It was as if she expected to be thrown out for heresy. With great love Baba gave her prasad, and through His translating disciple said, "Now your duty is to love Christ more and more." She went out of the room happy that she had come to see Him.

What did happen was that her love for Christ became warmer and stronger and was in the end not directed to Episcopalianism but to Christ Himself.

Quite a different matter.

[modifier] Do Yogis Eat Gauze ?

My first job, after following Baba's order to come to America in 1947, was touring around the country while giving lessons to members of the Ballet Theatre.

I can't imagine what stories had been told about my years in India with Baba, but the stage hands and wardrobe ladies evidently kept a strict eye on me in case I practiced some kind of Eastern magic.

As you may know, ballet skirts are made from a kind of gauze, gathered and skillfully arranged on a waistband to give them their well-known appearance.

One night, while supervising the packing for the journey to the next performance theatre, the head wardrobe mistress discovered that one of these ballet skirts could not be found anywhere.

Dancers were questioned, dressing rooms were searched, but no skirt!

Finally one of the searchers remembered hearing that certain yogis took a strip of gauze, swallowed it, retaining the end in one hand, and then pulled the strip up and down to ensure a perfectly clean inside.

Ah! Ha! That woman who had been studying yoga in India must have taken the skirt. Well, unknown to myself, I was carefully watched, until at the next town it was discovered that the missing skirt had been packed in the wrong basket, and sent off with an early consignment.

Months later one of the wardrobe ladies with great joy told me this story. I was delighted.

Margaret Craske. © 1990 Sheriar Press, Inc.

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