I give this short story in gratitude and as a Thank You to Idan Hameiri, Larisa Stow, and for all the wonderful Kirtan community that lead us in profound Joy , Love and Transformation. Thank you Ran Baron, Viraja Prema, and so many other gracious hosts. Enjoy Bahkti Fest and The Whole Being Weekend. This was inspired in part by the wise Ayanna Mojica. Blessings to the organizers Sid Friedman, Gary Peterson-The Tunnel, and all of you who know you should be named. Feel free to share. With LOVE. NAMASTE The Ritual I am walking up a steep incline to a Buddhist Monastery set on a hill top. I find myself walking among pilgrims, many of whom are carrying large tarps full of different ingredients, some of which smell very powerful. I have received a Special Invitation as an Emissary from the West to participate in the Ritual. I am told there have already been several days of preparation, ablutions, yoga practice, deep spiritual chanting and meditation. All this preparation runs like a highly organized beehive. Groups of worker bees prepare our food in joyful harmony and Brotherhood. The food is tasty and very spicy and ayurvedic conscious vegan base. There is little fat, but lots of vegetable based proteins. It is healthy and very satisfying. The Ritual begins. Waking up while it is still dark, in silence we wash and get ready to commence The Ritual when the first light of the new day streaks the sky. All of the people I have seen gather together in the Monastery Square Courtyard. To the side of the doors to the Monastery rest a huge 18 foot tall three foot wide brass bell. With one loud ring of the Bell, construction of immense complex live mandala from picked flowers, branches, leaves, and all manner of oganic matter. Starting at a marked spot, which is the exact center of the geometric design of the courtyard, a tall post stained with a bright red from crushed berries is erected, at the top of it there is a fiery red apple speared on the point. Supplies flow from the many tarps laid open around the perimeter of the square. First the tallest limbs are laid against the tall red anchor, I see the red bark of a special species of Oriental Maple tree, and other reddish barks, and then shorter and shorter branches. Each stick or branch is adorned either with red paint, some dangling rubies or garnets, or by spearing some hard round red berries. The whole center from tall center to lower outlying circumference is red. The next rung or circle is an incredibly ornate and complex, composition of orange colors. Crushed orange marigold mix with dried orange peels are highlighted with Orange coral stones, The composition is emerging as a beautiful creation of community and cumulative effort. Thousand of fresh orange colored rose blossoms fill the second circle. The next circle is yellow and trays full of yellow marigolds, dried lemon peels and yellow roses bobbles of citrine and yellow quartz, fill in another complex design. Constantly the entire crowd moves as one undulating wave, expanding out to secure the supplies from the tarps and then contracting inward to place the supplies into the intricate patterns. The concentric circles expanding outward start filling the enormous courtyard of the Monastery. This continue for hours as four more larger and larger circles are constructed through the mid-day and into the later afternoon. Green gives way to blue, which in turn becomes indigo. The Joy of participating and contributing by cupping my hands with crushed marigolds or fragrant white jasmine flowers or polished jade pebbles to place in the intricate ornate growing emerging mandala, fills my heart with gratitude. Eventually the entire courtyard is filled and the creation of the Chakra mandala ceases. The only way to walk is around the small path left uncovered around the entire perimeter. Everyone stands on this path as the tarps that carried all the colorful ingredients and supplies have been withdrawn. The bell sounds again. As the sound starts to fade and mix with the sound of the breeze a new sound emerges. Kirtan. A tall slender Monk with a stunningly beautiful deep bass/baritone voice fills the hills with his joyous singing. Ritual response chanting accompanies a slow and methodic circling of the perimeter around the mandala to view the full mandala it from all 360 degrees of perspective. Each time all of us complete a full cycle we reverse our direction and complete a new circle the other way. This goes on for hours and the chanting becomes ecstatic but remains relaxed, contained and meditative. Every step, every degree reveals a new aspect or portion or insight to this living spinning Mandala. It is alive, holy, sacred, and beautiful. After hours of chanting and circling all the while circling and deeply absorbing the Mandala, the doors to the Monastery open. Each person’s place on the path leads them up to the portal of the Monastery they receive a long lighted candle. As the sky darkens above and stars fill the sky, the Mandala dances and transforms under the flickering light of all our flames. The effect is magical. The Mandala always spinning and dancing with each step of circumlocution leaps into 3 dimensional life under the flickering flames of the candles. As the candles burn down, in the deepest and darkest part of the night, everyone again reverses their course, but this time the young tall Monk ceases his singing. Everyone pauses, standing still and breathing deeply. At the single stroke of the huge monastery everyone takes one step and then focuses on their breathing. The gong rings out with each step, which is held until the sound dies out. Somehow, intuitively, I know that this will be our last traverse around the beautiful Mandala. The first light of dawn is close, and our pace is governed by the ringing stroke of the single Monastery gong. Then as if by divine intervention, with no one available to play them all, with each new step the single stroke of a new Chiron gong is added to the accompaniment. Each step is held until the last vibrations of the growing number of gongs dissolves into silence. The effect is that now sound has become its own Mandala which dances and plays with the live Mandala shifting, rising and falling under the flickering flames on the ground. As the candles are about to burn out and a full cacophony of single strokes of hundreds of Chiron gongs fill the air to mark each pronged meditative step, the air rings, echoes and reverberates filling the Monastery courtyard. At full crescendo we collectively take our last step and complete our final full circling of the Mandala. Silence. Everyone stops. A final single stroke of hundreds of Chiron gongs and the huge Monastery bell sounds without another step taken. Then as the last audible vibrations wisp away everyone drops to their knees. Then, holding the small remaining piece of candles between their finger tips we palce both hands together in front of our chests in Namaste. The very first streak of the red golden light of a new dawn tinges the sky. As the sound of the stroke finally dissipates again, everyone assumes the Yoga asana of supplication, Child’s Pose, extending our arms forward holding the last flickering remains of the candles while bowing our heads and resting our bellies on the tops of our thighs and the spine extended down to the tailbone resting on the heels of our feet. We all stay in this position for several breaths, just listening to sound of our heart beats sounding like the gong strokes, aware that the pulse, the raging race of blood coursing through our veins is slowing down slower and slower. This trance like meditation is interrupted by a single stroke of the Monastery bell, just as the first rays of the sun rise on the horizon. The bell summons each one of us to rise to our knees and then place the last remaining burning candle ends sideways at the fringe of the Mandala. The beautiful majestic Mandala ignites. Fire leaps from the exterior perimeter the Mandala into to a swirling dancing flame full of colors and fragrances pungent and sweet. It takes a while to burn. The blaze reveals intricate swirls and rhythmic patterns which merge with the powerful fragrances to emblazon a permanent imprint on our souls and psyches. The flames intensify as they race toward the center, the origin point of the Mandala and the very first branches and pole, we started placing just 24 hours ago. The design of the fuel creates a towering flame at the epicenter of the Mandala that reaches its orange and red flames to merge with the bright golden rays of the morning sun. At that union the fleeting moment is forever. And no more. When the flame is no longer discernable and the full circle of the sun rises in the eastern sky, each one of us lies with our feet on the charred outer perimeter of the vanished Mandala. Lying on our backs with our heads pointed toward the center of the scorched circle. Taking three deep breaths in unison, each one of us settles into Shavasana, corpse pose. The sound of one resounding reverberating OM fills the courtyard as The Ritual ends.
Posted on: Tue, 03 Sep 2013 04:47:26 +0000
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