At Master’s Lotus Feet

by Kira Redeen

Sharleene Sherwin, the co-group leader from Long Island, recently remarked during the first Satsang at the State University at Stony Brook that,

You cannot understand the Master. All you can say about Him is ‘beautiful, beautiful.’

Werner Drexler, a fellow initiate from West Germany, said it in another way:

I see; I hear; I witness; I understand Thee not.

My husband Bob asked our beloved Master,

How should we understand You?

– First, on the level of man,

answered the Master.

Then rise above body consciousness,

He said,

and you will understand the Master on different levels.

He paused and then added,

Only a Saint can understand a Saint.

We can’t understand the Master, but in His Divine Presence we can understand ourselves much better.

Here are a couple of discoveries about ourselves that in His infinite Grace Master let us make.

Master does not need us, does not need our Love, our diaries, our visits to India. We need them. He doesn’t. He could spend 24 hours a day in perpetual bliss in Sach Khand. Yet, He goes through a life of untold hardship and intensity beyond comprehension.

The man-making process in Master’s presence is so intensified that every morning one seems to himself considerably smaller than the day before. One starts to meditate there where He leaves off here and then goes on. The precious Divine Blessings are pouring from the Master equally to everyone.

The amount of Inner Parshad received is in proportion to the size of one’s Inner Receptacle.

One day after we had meditated, Master asked us lovingly,

Are you convinced now that the Path is right? Yes? Then go on, go on. Do it.

The way that His Indian disciples look at Him teaches one what True Devotion and Love for the Master really are.

One has to see to believe it. It is evidence that no matter what one’s devotion and Love for the Master are, they still fall very short of the goal.

There was one man, a merchant, not a disciple, who sat in his store one morning. By Master’s Grace, a leaflet dealing with Manav Kendra and containing Master’s picture caught his eye. He was thunderstruck in that instant. He left everything the way it was, took off immediately, ran barefoot past three villages through pouring rain, fell at Master’s feet, shaking, drenched, with a haunting, far-away look on his expressive face.

We thought something tragic must have befallen him or his family. Yet, what this man wanted was Master’s darshan.

There was another man there who told us that he had left his place of work to do his share of selfless service in Manav Kendra.

How long can you stay away from work?

we inquired.

As long as Master needs me, naturally,

was his devoted answer.

Another disciple when hearing about the project of Manav Kendra gave his servant a pillow and told him to place it at Master’s feet. The servant bicycled through unbelievable Indian traffic for two days and nights and did as he was told.

Our beloved Master cut open the pillow and discovered there a donation of thousands and thousands of rupees.

All of these were matters for deep self-introspection.

Another lesson, this time on the matter of simplicity, was driven in when Master approached us one sunny day in Manav Kendra filling our insides to the brim with joy and happiness.

There He was, the King of Kings, dressed in His simple white attire, the sleeve of His shirt torn, white trousers covered with dust, shoes splattered with wet, brown dirt from the grounds of Manav Kendra. The back of Master’s black jacket was ruined with white paint. Someone, while painting the walls of the room, had dripped on it.

Never did He look more radiant, beautiful, more adorable and impeccably clean.

Master took His shoes off, leaned His cane at the side of the straw couch and sat down on it. Lovingly, His eyes stopped at each one of us. Then He immersed Himself completely with full attention in the huge pile of our diaries, the diaries that so often we fill out with little attention and care.

We left Manav Kendra as the sun started sinking and drove to Dehra Dun leaving our beloved Master behind.

Dear Khuku met us with words that opened to us another aspect of ourselves.

Our Indian Satsangis,

she said,

sit for hours on rough gravel and stones completely intoxicated with God, and today a Westerner complained that he could not meditate because the floor was a bit slanted.

The words immediately brought another picture to mind.

In 1969 Master came to say farewell to all of us Westerners who were returning to the ashram in Delhi after we had spent about two weeks touring the Punjab with our Master.

Master was a radiant picture of health, strength, joy and Love.

We from the West stood there – a striking contrast to Him. Almost all were sick; some had flu; some had diarrhoea; feet were covered with blisters. We were drawn, exhausted, our stomachs filled with medicine and vitamins, everyone in unwashed, crumpled clothes. So physically weak and unadjusted to simple ways of life! We looked like Napoleon’s army retreating from Russia.

The memory was with us a year later as we went to our guest house, lay down and listened. The air was filled with all sorts of nature sounds, sounds we by now had forgotten existed.

With Master’s Grace suddenly an overwhelming realisation of at-one-ment with all life, with all living creatures, came over us. Life is all One. It’s as simple as that.

Here you are sunk in nature, One with all life, God in His physical form your next-door neighbour. We decided then and there to move to India, build a house next to Master and continue living in this blissful paradise forever.

Before evening darshan we washed our hands. The water came out of the faucet with a blast first on the hands, then in the sink and then on our legs. The pipe under the sink was one foot long.

A feeling of joy comes over you every time you witness the failure of mechanical gadgets that have weakened us, enslaved us, and separated us from nature in the West.

Later at the darshan, Master leaned a bit forward and said gently and lovingly,

Anything?

Silence.

Master leaned back and listened. Then He said,

Some people think they are millionaires, want to build houses. Houses and millions will not help you. Stay where you are. Meditate. Rise above body consciousness. This is all.

Otherwise, He had earlier told us,

Your life has no value.

Finally, the day of departure came. We sat at the Lotus Feet of the Master for the last time.

Master, we are not worthy of such blessings,

we said. Master gently chuckled and said lovingly,

How do you know?