MAUSOLEUM SHENANIGANS

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All I knew about the final resting place

of the great Yogi from India,

Paramahansa Yogananda,

was that it was in Forest Lawn Cemetery.

I asked at the facility just inside the gate and was given directions to the Great Mausoleum, which is aptly named, as it turns out.

It is Huge.  HUGE.  TREMENDOUS.

It is big.

When I got to the door I was pleased to see a caretaker passing by and I asked him where Yogananda’s body was.  He pointed out an opening ahead.  When I got there, I was amazed at the length of the hall into which it opened, and on each side of the hall was a very long row of rooms.  Dozens of rooms, and each room had tombs floor to ceiling and—what?  Ten wide on each side of every room?  It was folly to consider even trying to search out an individual name.  And now there was nobody to be found.

Whatever was going to happen would happen, so I started walking down the hall, admiring the beautiful statuary and glancing into the rooms as I went, as if Yogananda’s crypt might somehow separate itself so I could see it.

When I got part of the way down the hall I was consumed with an energy that glued my feet to the floor.  I could not go any further.  I found that I could, however, turn around and go back.  When I had turned around and walked about twenty feet my feet again became frozen to the floor.

I remember recalling at the time that Yogananda had written of a very similar event happening to him during his early years in India.

So I turned around and once more retraced my steps until I could go no further, but this time I couldn’t go back, either.  I started toward the room on one side — frozen again.  Turned around and went to the other side, and that was the room with Yogananda’s tomb.

Peace.

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Meeting a Mystic, a Disciple of Paramahansa Yogananda

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She was young and I was young,

but she was mature enough to be called a spiritual giant,

and I was mature enough to know that it was true.

When I saw her across the lawn my homing instinct took me,

and as she walked here and there I floated,

entranced, behind her right shoulder.

And when she turned and looked her love into me her

invisible hand painted a line of flames across the sky

and I lay in that fire, touching the two horizons.

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More on That Mystic Experience

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I’ll finally fulfill a promise

… to write more about Paramahansa Yogananda’s disciple whom I followed around at a lawn party for the enjoyment of feeling her strong vibration. What a buzz!!  At the time that I put it in story form here I couldn’t visualize actually trying to describe my experience. There is no way words can have true meaning in cases like these, not English words, at least.  But you asked, and here’s another effort.

First, an event in the lives of a couple we knew.  She was spiritual, he was not.  Well, he would have described himself as spiritual by today’s standards, but she was the one who went, consciously and at will, into blissful higher realms and dealt with the beings there and learned from them how to be of more service in this realm.  One night he happened to touch her while she was meditating and he experienced, through that touch, the same thing she was experiencing and he was changed on the spot, much like many people describe happening to them as a result of near death experiences.  Various spiritual states can be transmitted in other ways, as well, by advanced Yogis.

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I’ve heard folks speak of getting a buzz from liquor or other drugs, and am going to presume that it is pretty much the same buzz one has when in the hospital on pain killers.  A buzz which, if only sound would be a roar, enveloped the lady, extending far enough from her body that I could follow at a distance of four or five feet and still feel it quite strongly.  That’s why I followed her.

When she turned and fixed her stare on my eyes, It was much like being transfixed with love.

My experience with “transfixion” can be described as feeling as if each body cell is “frozen” as if locked in place by the energy.  I think of the peace therein as “electrical awe,”  The body is locked in place more than comfortably, so that one can meditate for hours without any kind of bodily movement or distraction or sensation, such as heat or cold.  The attention can much more easily be fixed, one-pointedly, on That Allness within, which the Yogis and other Mystics tell us is the goal of meditation.

The presence of the mystic — and her gaze — put me into an awesome fire which encompassed the universe — a state of consciousness for which I have no description.  It is a state for which, through the eons, mystics have happily given up sex and home and family, even clothing.

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A YOGI’S SECOND SIGHT

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A little vortex spot, a good place for “sailing within,”

… had been created by repeated practice of meditation at the same location.
One evening, while relaxed there, I was consumed by an unfamiliar and overwhelming sensation.

I didn’t think that I had opened myself to dark energies or evil entities, but am definitely aware of having imperfections, so I took the precaution of telephoning a Yogi who had proven to be a good guide, a follower of Paramahansa Yogananda.  He told me to resume the state in which the sensation had manifested, saying that the moon was full and that “they” were trying to reach me.

Without asking who “they” are, I did resume the inner state, and their identities were almost immediately revealed in an experience worth remark.

The closest description of the event which I have seen is Bernini’s sculpture, “Ecstasy of Saint Teresa.”  My experience was definitely not anywhere close to being on a par with hers, but it did seem a sublime form of chakra work and it was life changing.  It was also a proof to me of the value, in spiritual growth, of what we sometimes call spirit guides, sometimes angels, sometimes gurus.

(By the way, well meaning folks who have not had this type of experience and, therefore, no way of knowing otherwise, have presumed that this sculpture could only be a depiction of sexual activity.  I can see how that mistake can be made.)

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REVELATIONS

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A NUN’S SCHEDULE

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meditation5

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A yogini (female yogi),

a monastic at the organization

… created by Paramahansa Yogananda to spread Kriya, was asked about her schedule.  I don’t have notes, so this is her recital from memory:

She gets up at four to meditate.  She joins the other monastics at seven for meditation which ends with prayer for the world and for those who have asked.  She then has breakfast, then work starts at eight.  At twelve they gather for a repeat of the group meditation and prayer followed by lunch, then back to work at one.  At five they exercise for an hour, then they have their group meditation and prayer.  She usually skips the evening meal in favor of meditation, which lasts until about midnight.
While I was dependent on memory for her remarks above, I remember well her last sentence:
“I love the weekends because then I can meditate as much as I want.”

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meditation3

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SATAN AND THE NUN

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William_Blake_Satan_Exulting_over_Eve_400

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She was asked if Satan can take form in this realm,

… and she answered in the affirmative, saying that she had had a needed experience which proved it to her.

This is the story she told:

Many of the people who came to her for help suffered from horrible fears, and she had never been afraid, so the experience was part of her training as a counselor.

She was on her meditation seat when suddenly there was an entity behind her and a stench “like dead rats.” And — scared?  She made it very clear that now she had a very good understanding of fear.

That was the end of her story.  But someone asked her what happened next.  She replied that she simply said, “You don’t exist,” and that it was immediately as if windows had opened and a fresh spring breeze filled the room expelling all signs of negativity.

This is the same nun, a disciple of a Kriya Yogi, who was asked about her daily schedule:  https://otherearsothertongues.wordpress.com/2013/06/26/a-nuns-schedule/

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