Chapter 12 - The Chela's Vision

The sun had not yet set so that it was too early to go to bed, and actually I did not feel sleepy. It was agreeable to stretch ones legs after a long days ride, and so I remained at rest. As my eyes fell on the freshly plastered wall opposite met I observed the irregular surface, and it seemed to me as if it had a strange life of its own.

At the same time I became conscious that this room, in spite of its emptiness, had something that appealed to me in an extraordinary way, though I was unable to discover any reason for it. The gloomy weather and the poor prospects for the following day were in no way conducive to an elated state of mind. But since I had entered this room my depression had vanished and had given place to a feeling of great inner peace and serenity.

Was it the general atmosphere of this ancient sanctuary, which from the cave of a pious hermit had grown in the course of centuries into a monastery in which uncounted generations of monks had lived a life of devotion and contemplation? Or was it owing to the special atmosphere of this room that the change had taken place in me? I did not know.

I only felt that there was something about the surface of this wall that held my attention, as if it were a fascinating landscape. But no, it was far from suggesting a landscape. These apparently accidental forms were related to each other in some mysterious way; they grew more and more plastic and coherent. Their outlines became clearly defined and raised from the flat background. It was like a process of crystallisation, or like an organic growth; and the transformation which took place on the surface of the wall was as natural and convincing as if I had watched an invisible sculptor in the creation of a life-size relief. The only difference was that the invisible sculptor worked from withtin his material and in all places at the same time.

Before I knew how it all happened, a majestic human figure took shape before my eyes. It was seated upon a throne, with both feet on the ground, the head crowned with a diadem, the hands raised in a gesture, as if explaining the points of an intricate problem: it was the figure of Buddha Maitréya, the Coming One, who already now is on his way to Buddhahood, and who, like the sun before it rises over the horizon, sends his rays of love into this world of darkness, through which he has been wandering in innumerable forms, through innumerable births and deaths.

I felt a wave of joy passing through me, as I had felt in the presence of my Guru, who had initiated me into the mystic circle (Maṇḍala) of Maitréya and had caused his images to be erected all over Tibet.

I closed my eyes and opened them again: the figure in the wall had not changed. There it stood like a graven image, and yet full of life!

I looked around me to assure myself that I was not dreaming, but everything was as before: there was the projecting rock in the wall to the right, my cooking utensils on the ground, my luggage in the corner.

Again my glance fell upon the opposite wall. The figure was there --- or was I mistaken? What I saw was no more the figure of a compassionately preaching Buddha but rather that of a terrifying demon. His body was thick-set and bulky, his feet wide apart, as if ready to jump: his raised, flame-like hair was adorned with human skulls, his right arm stretched out in a threatening gesture, wielding a diamond sceptre (vajra) in his hand while the other hand held a ritual bell before his chest.

If all this had not appeared before me like a skillfully modelled relief, as if created by the hand of a great artist, my blood would have frozen with terror. But as it was I rather felt the strange beauty in the powerful expression of this terrifying form of Vajrapāṇi, the defender of truth against the powers of darkness and ignorance, the Master of Unfathomed Mysteries.

While I was still under the spell of this awe-inspiring figure, the diamond sceptre transformed itself into a flaming sword, and in place of the bell the long stem of a lotus-flower grew out of the left hand. It grew up to the height of the left shoulder, unfolded its leaves and petals, and upon them appeared the book of wisdom. The body of the figure had in the meantime become that of a well-formed youth, sitting cross-legged on a lotus-throne. His face took on a benign expression, lit up with the youthful vigour and charm of an Enlightened One. Instead of the flaming hair and the human skulls, his head was adorned with the Bodhisattva-crown of the Five Wisdoms.

It was the figure of Man̄juśrī, the embodiment of active wisdom, who cuts through the knots of doubt with the flaming sword of knowledge.

After some time a new change took place, and a Female figure formed itself before my eyes. She had the same youthful grace as Man̄juśrī, and even the lotus, which grew from her left hand, seemed to be the same. But instead of wielding the flaming sword her opened right hand was resting on the knee of her right leg, which was extended, as if she were about to descend from her lotus-throne in answer to some prayer of supplication. The wish-granting gesture, the loving expression of her face, which seemed to be inclined towards some invisible supplicant, were the liveliest embodiment of Buddha Śākyamuni's words:

`Like a mother,
who protects her child,
her only child,
with her own life,
thus one should cultivate a heart of
unlimited love and compassion towards all living beings.'

I felt deeply moved, and trying to concentrate my whole attention upon the lovely expression of her divine face, it seemed to me as if an almost imperceptible, sorrowful smile was hovering about her mouth, as though she wanted to say: ``Indeed, my love is unlimited; but the number of suffering beings is unlimited too. How can I, who have only one head and two eyes, soothe the unspeakable sufferings of numberless beings?''

Were these not the words of Avalokiteśvara which reverberated in my mind? Indeed, I recognised in Tārā's face the features of the Great Compassionate One, out of whose tears Tārā is said to have sprung.

And, as if overpowered by grief, the head burst and grew into a thousand heads, and the arms split into a thousand arms, whose helping hands were stretched out in all directions of the universe like the rays of the sun. And now everything was dissolving into light, for in each of those innumerable hands there was a radiating eye, as loving and compassionate as that in the face of Avalokiteśvara; and as I closed my eyes, bewildered and blinded by so much radiance, it struck me that I had met this face before: and now I knew --- it was that of the Coming One, the Buddha Maitréya!

When I looked up again everything had disappeared; but the wall was lit up by a warm light and when I turned round I saw that the last rays of the evening sun had broken through the clouds. I jumped up with joy and looked out of the window. All the gloom and darkness had disappeared. The landscape was bathed in the soft colours of the parting day. Above the green pastures of the valley there rose the brown and ochrecoloured slopes of rocky mountains, and behind them appeared sunlit snow-fields against the remnants of dark purple clouds, now and then lit up by lightning. A distant rumbling from beyond the mountains showed that Vajrapāṇi was still wielding his diamond sceptre in the struggle with the powers of darkness.

Deep below me in the valley I saw my horses grazing, small as toys, and not far from them rose the smoke of a camp-fire, where the men were preparing their evening meal. From the cave temple came the deep, vibrating sound of a big bass-drum. It came like a voice out of the bowels of the earth, like a call from the depths to the light above: the light that conquers all darkness and fear of the eternal abyss.

And out of the gladness of my heart words formed themselves spontaneously like a prayer and a pledge:

Who art Thou, Mighty One,
Thou, who art knocking
at the portals of my heart?
Art Thou a ray of wisdom and of love,
emerging from the dazzling aura
of a silent Muni,
illuminating those
whose minds are ready
to receive the noble message
of deliverance?

Art Thou the Coming One,
the Saviour of all beings,
who wanders through the world
in thousand unknown forms?

Art Thou the messenger
of one who reached the shore
and left the raft for us
to cross the raging stream?

Whoever Thou may be,
Mighty Enlightened One,
wide open are the petals
of my heart,
prepared the lotus-throne for
Thy reception.

Do I not meet Thee
ever where I go?
I find Thee dwelling
in my brother's eyes;
I hear Thee speaking
in the Guru's voice;
I feel Thee
in the mother's loving care.
Was it not Thou,
who turned the stone to life,
who made Thy Form
appear before my eyes,
whose presence sanctified
the rite of initiation,
who shone into my dreams
and filled my life with light?

Thou Sun of Thousand Helping Arms,
All-comprehending and compassionate,
O Thousand-Eyed One, Thou,
whose all-perceiving glance,
while penetrating all,
hurts none, nor judges,
nor condemns,
but warms and helps to ripen,
like fertile summer rain.

Thou Light!
Whose rays transform and sanctify
compassionately
our weakness even; Turning death's poison thus
into the wine of life---

Wherever in the sea of hate and gloom
A ray of wisdom and compassion shines:
There I know Thee,
O Mighty One!
Whose radiant light leads us to harmony,
Whose peaceful power
overcomes all worldly strife.
O Loving One!

Take this my earthly life
and let me be reborn in Thee!