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| THE TEACHINGS OF YAMA CHAPTERS I & II |
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| Chapter I Meeting Yama; helping the Earth; temptation I had a dream . . . I dreamt I was on a stairway and below me stood a woman--a woman in rags holding in her arms the rotting head of a girl. She cried:”My child, my child!” In horror of the stench that filled my nostrils, I turned and fled upstairs. She followed. Through the doors of the finest restaurant I ran. “She comes! She comes!” I warned the hall full of diners. Yet who heard my shout above the din of cutlery and rustling of conversation? Past the tables I fled, and as I began climbing the attic stairs, the woman entered, and the din stopped and silence reigned a moment before the screams of recognition prevailed, and panic became the dessert of the diners. And only half-eaten dinners remained in the hall. Into the attic I escaped, closing the door behind, hoping, praying, that the doorknob would not turn. Then the stench slipped under the door and the knob began to move. Into her sunken eyes I gazed. With nowhere to run I surrendered and sat down. I closed my eyes and closed my nose and silenced my breath. I felt a tap on my shoulder. Come and drink with me, I heard somewhere in the distance of my mind. I opened my eyes and numbly followed her. We descended to the empty bar downstairs and she began making us drinks like some macabre bartender. And though the rotting stench of the head made me gag I accepted her drink, and took a respectful sip. She smiled and said, “I am pleased with you, for you no longer attempted to flee and have accepted my drink.” “Nowhere could I run, so I did nothing but the inevitable. I no longer had the choice of fleeing,” I replied. “Ahh, the same is for the others; although they constantly create circumstances to provide the illusion of escape. “Ask me a boon and it is yours,” she said. “Very well, tell me who you are.” She smiled. “I am the plan of everyone and every remembrance. “I am every exhalation. “I am every burst of anger and every grievance held. “I am the smile and promise of your career politicians, and the ambition of every man. “I am the farewell of every lover and the meeting of another two. “I am the screams of war and the riots for peace. “I am the passing by of every beggar’s hand and the opening of a savings account. “I am the mouthful of every delicacy and every grumbling belly unanswered. “I am the spewing of every vehicle and the soiling of every water. “I am every footprint on the shore and every wave. “I am in every kiss and in every copulation. “I am in every museum and in every poet’s dream of immortality. “I am in every rifle barrel and on the edge of every knife. “I am in every word of gossip and in every thought of judgment. “I am every lie. “I am in every candle flame and in every cloud and in every spring. “I am in the bloom of every flower. “I am in the shadows after every sunrise and in the center of every star. “I am the pointing of God’s finger. I am time. “My name is Yama; and Death am I.” ******* Yama! I caught my breath. It has come to this. I now face Death, I said to myself. I felt both fear and awe. She smiled and said, “Because you sought to know about another and were willing to listen, unlike the multitude who are too busy thinking of only themselves, I will give you another boon.” I saluted with folded hands to the one who is named Yama. “Please, Revered One, you who draw nearer with every blink of one’s eye, tell me of your child and why you weep.” “My child, throughout these thousands of darkened years, in the age called Kali, has been trampled by ignorant, hard-hearted men. They have enslaved her and have worked her lifeless. Their hearts empty of gratitude. “By the fruits of their greed they have defecated upon her, and by their lust for power have drowned her in their own blood. “And throughout this torment my daughter has given her all, never holding back. “My child is the Earth itself.” As Yama said these last words, the rotting head transformed into the blue-jeweled sphere of the Earth. Then the Earth vanished. And with it the stench disappeared as well. “Because you asked about my child who is dear to me and asked not to remove the stench for your own sake, ask of me another favor.” “Please, you who lead every youth onward, tell me how I may help your child,” I asked, bowing once more. “Very well, I will tell you.” She paused for a moment. “Be aware. That’s right. Be aware of all that you do, all that you see, feel, taste, smell and hear. See the shadows and how they stretch from stone to stone upon the path you walk. Hear the birds twitter amidst the hum of silence. Feel the warmth of the sun shining on your back and then the coolness of the passing of a cloud. Taste every morsel of food, savoring every spice and taste the rain the same. Breathe in the smell of the barnyard with the same smile as you would sniffing jasmine.” I said, “Dear Yama, you who have been since the first movement of time, who know all things, I do not understand how this helps your child. Please elaborate.” “By being aware, you become awake. By being awake you will not trample ignorantly upon the Earth in your sleep. And by being awake you will become simple; for no longer will you have a myriad dreams to fulfill.” “Thank you, I understand more clearly. Yet, please explain that since you lead all things to destruction, why the need to help the Earth? It is doomed to perish.” Death replied, “Many a fool have thought thus, and have lived their lives for the moment, living to satisfy only their desires. Let me explain: “The Earth is none other than your mother. Every need you have while expressing through a physical human body--a rare opportunity that countless souls desire to have--is given by her. And even as I quickly lead your earthly parents away, still every parent needs to be given gratitude. “With every breath should rise gratitude. With every morsel of food, every whisper of the wind, every step, every touch of another creature, every sigh, every stab of pain, every beat of your heart, every laugh, every smile of a child, every bottle of wine to accompany a drunkard home. “With all these and everything that comes, gratitude needs to meet them. “This brings honor to my child and thus pleases me. And when I smile I do not work so hard.” ******* Peering intently into the smiling face of Yama, I said, “Wait a minute. What you have just taught me sounds like you are asking all to be worshiping life. If you are Death, how does worshiping life please you? I am confused. Are you truly Death?” Yama smiled. “I am pleased with your questions. “I am indeed Death. And I am Life. I see no difference. In the darkest of winter or in the middle of the greatest conflagration life lies hidden. And in the blooming of spring and in every flowing river I wait. I am the death of every youth while life is the birth of every adult. We are two faces of the same coin.” In a flash the woman in rags was no more; and in her stead stood a majestic looking man, dressed as a king, with a mighty sword by his side. “Ask of me anything,” this kingly figure asked of me in a very serious tone. “You can rule over the world--a benign king even, looking after all his people. I can make you the richest man in the world or the most intelligent. You can have any woman you want, or women, for that matter, and be adept at pleasing them all. I can make you famous, your name adored even in your own lifetime, and for all ages to come in whatever field you choose.” I shook my head. “You can live as long as you like. Supernatural powers I give you. You may visit the Three Worlds. You may read every man’s mind and be impervious to curses. With a thought you may create anything or destroy whatever you will. You may have a celestial maiden every night upon a bed of clouds with angels serenading you. You may fly or walk through walls or upon water. You may change shape at will, be giant or small, or be in any shape at all. You may have the power of invisibility.” Again I shook my head. “I will make you a god. Even the king of gods!” Falling down on to my knees I touched Yama’s feet. “Revered Sir with many forms, you who are king of time and who even lead the gods to destruction, I know you offered Nicheketas thousands of years ago such things. And he refused. He desired true knowledge. He desired to know your mystery and to escape your touch. “Today you still exist and tomorrow in the ages to come you await humanity’s arrival. Birth to death and back again -- this wheel is tiresome and all beings are crushed by it. I, too, want to be taught by you your mystery and to know how one can escape your clutches. Please answer my questions truthfully and clearly is what I ask.” “Then drink up and we will go,” he said as he helped me to my feet. I drank it all and the drink’s sweetness warmed my whole being. “What is it that I have drunk?” “You have drunken wisdom. For it is only the wise who face Death.” Chapter II Vision of the times; why does Man suffer? delusions With a wave of Yama’s arm we stood upon the top of a high mountain. “Behold the world,” Yama said. “A world with many worlds within.” I saw upon the plains below two cities; enormous, each spreading to the horizon. Dark smoke spewed into the air. The river running between them fouled with fish belly up bobbing upon the surface. In each of the cities I saw youth donning black and wearing ornaments of skulls. They snorted white powder up their noses and shot hot fire into their veins, and copulated in alleys strewn with garbage; while their parents sat staring into glowing boxes flashing images of blood and rape into their minds I saw distinguished looking men in shining conference rooms talk about destroying a forest to help increase their corporate take; while younger men in a warehouse talked about whom to rob and kill this night. I saw generals and colonels with their shining metals peer over maps and pointing their fingers at where to strike. I saw their armies line up between the two cities, and I heard the battle cries and the roar of their war machinery. Then I heard the screams of the wounded and dying, and the cheering of the victors. And I saw the blood, like a river, disappear into the Earth. I turned away and looked at Yama. “Are these the ones who worship you? Are these your devotees?” “No, these are not my devotees. They do not even honor me. They are the devotees of my shadow; for they worship only their puny selves, who move upon the Earth with greedy mouths, devouring all that they can. And so I devour them. They know not who I am, only what I appear to be.” “Then who are you, you whom all people fear?” “Ah, who am I really? That is for the end of this dream. ******* “Now ask me another question.” “Why do people suffer?” Why all this pain?” “Come with me and I will show you.” No longer upon the mountaintop, we stood behind some trees in a jungle entangled in vines. In front of us was a clearing into which a well-beaten path led. In the middle of the clearing lay a pit. “Why are we here?” I asked. He held up his finger for silence. Suddenly the jungle reverberated from the trumpeting of elephants. Then I saw a man, his eyes wide in fear, running down the path looking over his shoulder to where the trumpeting sounds of the elephants issued. “Oh, no!” I cried, ready to dash out. “The pit! The man doesn’t see the pit!” Yama held my shoulder. “Watch.” As I feared, the man fell unmindful into the vast pit. With one hand he caught hold of a thick root. The elephants came and ran around the pit in rage. For a moment he felt safe. Then he noticed at the bottom of the pit awaited an enormous serpent; its maw opened wide; its hot breath scorching the man’s skin. Then he noticed on the root a rat, which ever chewed upon the root. Above his head he now heard the buzzing of a swarm of angry bees. Just when the man was near despair and ready to let go, a drop of honey fell onto his lips. Tasting so delicious, so sweet, the man forgot his predicament, and holding tightly onto the root with one hand he held out the other to catch another drop of honey. I turned away, for I could not bear to see the inevitable. “Who is he? And what did it all mean?” My guide looked at me and smiled, touching my chest. “He is you. He is everyone. He is anyone who believes he is but a body, a pitiful creature encased in decaying flesh. “He runs upon the path of life, running through the tangled jungle of lifetimes of habits and impressions, likes and dislikes. The elephants are his desires, pursuing him, trumpeting in fear of non-fulfillment. “The pit is hope. “The root he hangs onto is his good deeds of other lifetimes. Gnawing upon it is the rat of time. “Below him, in the vast, bottomless pit, awaits the serpent of passions, lust and anger. Buzzing around his head and stinging him are the bees of his thoughts, ready to sting him any moment and send him down into the awaiting jaws. “Yet the man forgets all these dangers, all this suffering, and holds on tighter, just for another taste of the honey of pleasure of the world the mind has made. “Instead of running upon the path over and over again, falling into the same pit with each new lifetime, from that path he could leave. He could say that this path he wants no more. “However, he remembers that taste of honey. And so he wants more. “No one causes man to run that path and to suffer.” ******* I bowed to Yama in gratitude for this lesson. “How else are men deluded?” He smiled. “Come with me.” We left the man to his fate and followed a path to a village. Upon the path lay a large rope. We saw a group of children running from the village in our direction. “Quickly,” said Yama, “hide behind these bushes.” As we crouched behind a bush he held onto one end of the rope. Unseen by the approaching children, he began to wiggle the rope. The children stopped and giggled. Then, one by one, with peals of laughter, they began to jump over the undulating rope, avoiding its touch. Yama and I could hardly stifle our laughter at the joyous site of these happily playing children. Suddenly, we heard shouts of warning from the village. All the adults of the village ran frantically towards the children, gesticulating madly for them to come back to them. The children stopped playing and became silent. Mothers and fathers yanked each of their child’s hand, and then pulled the crying children back to the village. We emerged from our hiding place. I looked at Yama with puzzlement. Then I noticed an old man standing to the side of the path. He bowed to us with folded hands, smiling. He then turned, and with a shaking head, walked back to the village. “Please explain to me, respected teacher, what I saw.” “What I held was the rope of creation, its fibers consisting of every world, every form made and to be made. Supreme happiness and outright joy made it dance and move. All movement is this joy. “The children, seeing with the eyes of innocence, saw the rope for what it was, and quite naturally joined in the joyous dance.” “The adults,” I asked, “what about them? They seemed afraid; except the old man.” “Indeed, fear was the lens through which they looked upon the rope. They saw not a rope, but an enormous serpent, ready to devour their children. The serpent of separation. Believing each to be separate from everything else, seeing themselves as their bodies, these adults can only look upon the world in fear. And the grabbing of their children and pulling them back to their village, to lock them in their classrooms to teach them about the serpent, they do in the name of love. Yet it is only out of fear. “And these children will grow up to be adults, wearing the glasses of fear.” “Yet that old man seemed different. He wasn’t afraid,” I said. “The old man, eh?” Yama said, wearing a delightful smile. “There are a few--so very few--who do not look upon the world as a snake, but see it as it is, with the eyes of a child. These ones are no longer adults, nor are they children; although they will act as both at different times. They stand beyond anything we can say of them; anything we can call them. “They are the ones for you to seek out, to keep company and to serve awhile. For they will see you as you truly are.” “Where are they?” I asked excitedly. “How can . . .?” Yama raised his hands. “Wait, wait. All in good time. ******* Yama said, “You asked about delusions. “While there is only one delusion, it has many faces, and is not easily dispelled. “Look up the path.” I turned and saw a young man coming towards us with purposeful strides. He was dressed for a royal court of India. Yama, who now wore, as I also found myself wearing, a simple white outfit of a renunciate, told me to go up to the man and to ask him where he traveled. “I am the royal messenger. The king has sent me to the find the prince, and to tell him that his father would make him now king,” said the stranger. At that moment a regal looking young man, although dressed in rags, came around the corner. “That’s him! That’s the prince!” cried the messenger, running over to his object of pursuit, and then dropping to touch the prince’s feet. We stood by and listened to the messenger and saw the look of joy in the prince’s face. “Tell the king, my father, that I come.” And off ran the messenger. Yama said to the prince: “So you are returning?” “Oh, yes. It is time for me to come home.” Yama asked if we may accompany him upon the journey and the young man was grateful for the company. We walked a ways, the eyes of the prince focused on the path ahead. For a long while he walked thus, silent, seeing nothing but the path leading to his father. Suddenly, a twitch arose in his neck and involuntarily he looked over to the right. He saw, just off the path, a beautiful cluster of crystals. He fell to his knees to peer closer. “How magnificent are these stones. I have never seen the like before. I must study them so that I may know these marvels of nature.” And so he sat, his focus completely on these crystals. For a long while we waited. Finally, Yama went over and whispered in his ears: “Forget anything?” “My father!” said the prince, slapping himself in the head. He jumped up, and once more with focused attention, walked upon the path to his father’s. Yet it was not long before another twitch arose and he saw to the left a group of celestial maidens bathing. And after some time of sporting with these heavenly damsels, again Yama had to go and remind the prince about his goal. And so it was, again and again, twitches arising and the prince stopping to study animals, going into a library, learning a martial art, memorizing and chanting scriptures, going off on pilgrimages, conversing with gods. On and on. We finally left him learning how to cook. “Will he ever make it?” I asked Yama. “Oh, yes. Eventually. With my prodding. And if he learns to ignore those twitches.” “From where do these twitches arise?” I asked. “Those twitches arise from habits of many lifetimes. They are like old interests bubbling up to the surface. Bubbles if you will. The challenge is to ignore them so as to let them pop. If you do not ignore them, it reinforces the habit and some time down the road, again the twitch will arise. And even harder will it be to ignore.” “Will the king give up on his son and offer it to someone else?” “Never. For the king forever sees the son upon the throne, and has all eternity to wait. “The only one who suffers is the son, for my reminders are not always enjoyable, especially when he does not want to leave an interest. That is, if he becomes attached to his studies.” I bowed. “I understand. Delusion is all around. Vainly man goes here and there for some thing he thinks offers happiness; all the while finding suffering as its shadow. “Yet are there not any who see through these veils?” “Well, that brings us back to the old man and his kind.” 2003 Janaka Stagnaro www.janakastagnaro.com |