Monday, August 18, 2014

Whining to God

Very many years ago when I was very immersed in Advaita Vedanta, I had a series of visionary dreams—the kind that are very vivid and leave a lasting impression.  One night, I had a string of the dreams in which I was many different deities of the Hindu pantheon.  Now, although my experience of being a deity was pleasant enough, what I was doing as a deity, in part, included rolling my eyes and sighing over the incessant racket of people piteously crying to me to fix their problems. As far as I was concerned, in my supreme godly wisdom, there was no problem.  Everything was really OK, but mere mortals, caught up in their self-involvement, egoity and neuroticism were grievously pining over all sorts of things that they thought were desperate and catastrophic.  

In my magnanimity—god that I was—I dispassionately went down to the tormented person(s) and assisted them. Then, I would wake up for a moment and fall right back to sleep to dream that I was a different god and go through the same cycle again with my whining supplicant devotees. This seemed to go on for hours all that night.
I have had other experiences similar to this one when I was heavily involved in meditation practices.  The experience was always that nothing bad was happening or ever happens.  In fact, it was as Nisargadatta Maharaj once said: “In Reality, nothing ever truly happens.” Or as said in the Ashtavakra Gita: “The body, heaven, hell, bondage, liberation, and fear are mere illusions. What then needs to be done?” But the ordinary state of being is certainly to be rather caught up in one’s personal patheticism, with the gall to think that some otherworldly being cares in the same way you expected mom or dad to when you were two years old.

Yes, very many people confuse whining for prayer. I can hardly say I am not guilty of it. Even in occultism, which is really an alternative form of spirituality,  a lot of emphasis is put on how to get something from other worldly beings —if not by whining, then fast-talking.  This being the case, although you might think that your holy guardian angel is your buddy, he or she might just think you are a pain in the ass if not an asshole… And if you think God or Jesus or whoever is answering your prayers because he likes you personally, no…that’s not why. It’s because he’s just sick of listening to you, and like a lazy parent, would rather spoil you to shut you up than train you to figure out how to be truly resourceful and fit for life.

Today’s message from Gabriel:  “From the unreal, lead us to the real. From darkness, lead us to light. From death, lead us to immortality. Reach us through and through ourselves and evermore protect us by thy sweet, compassionate face.” (Vedantist prayer adapted from the Vedas).

Excerpt from La Maga A Story about Sorcerers and Magi

Sofia explained that the anchorite never spoke and allowed only three people to ever see her. Those three people were her apprentices. She only communicated with them while they were asleep or otherwise out of their normal minds.
“But besides getting into our heads, she used to be up all night listening to Commons who were, you know, praying to whoever because of their ‘problems,’” Sofia explained. “She used to comfort them, and give them little teachings. She told me I was going to have to do that someday, but I don’t know if I have the patience. I ignore them when they show up,” Sofia confessed.
"It's called the Misercordia Maneuver," Alan Raphael said.
 “I knew a mage who became sensitized to praying Commons,” Juliet added. “Man, if you never want to sleep or have an uncluttered thought, do that—listen to Commons and respond to them,” she laughed. “It got so bad that this guy couldn’t work anymore. It took up all his time and all his mind. I don’t even know if he ended up in the Balthazar Institute, he got so crazy.”
She turned to Alan to ask whether the case sounded familiar at which the friends got into a loud discussion about oddities involved in communications between Inner Plane denizens and Commons. Sofia remained silent in her weariness. She was sleepy, a little tipsy.... Danny Bruno just carried on with the rest of the guests, announcing that he was in agreement with Alan who, although boorishly overbearing, made the point that magi who run into problems with the Misercordia maneuver have Fluffernutter for brains. “They become egotistical and sappy and insinuate themselves into the lives and concerns of Commons. Erroneously identifying with them, they believe their whining has substance,” Danny griped. 

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