March Marvels (Buddha & the Swami)

I had been thinking of writing about these experiences for some time.  Our cat and a couple of other synchronicities prompted me onward.  A few days ago my husband was unloading some lumber from the van.  Later he noticed an oddity - the van emergency lights were blinking.  He opened the van door, and out hopped the cat, which had obviously gone in while he was unloading the lumber.  The next morning as I opened Gather, I read something by Chuck who had an icon of a cat at the wheel of a truck.

I keep a journal in which I daily write five things I experience during the day that I’m grateful for.  I find this keeps me on my spiritual path.  A lapse in this exercise can often result in a downward spiral.  During this year I have had a lot to be grateful for.

Beginning in March a series of events began to unfold.  It began with Buddha.  Buddha is the orange tabby cat, just a kitten at the time that showed up in the evergreen tree next to our deck railing.  Buddha is the same cat that turned on the emergency blinkers.  We’ve always kept cats.  We live on a farm surrounded by fields and woods where mice run rampant.  I envision felines in camouflage, army boots and helmets, carrying Tommy guns patrolling the house keeping unwanted rodents on the outside rather than the inside.  I have a vivid imagination.  I also visualize a couple of Cylons walking along side me when I’m out working on the trails.  I say, “Lift this bench size rock and carry it back to my meditation garden.”  Before lifting it effortlessly, they say “By Your Command.”  You have to be a Battlestar Galactica fan.
 
(Picture of Buddha on the morning of October 25, 2007)

Peaches, our cat, aged seventeen years had served us well for a mouse free environment.  In fact, I often watched her at the edge of the field, her eyes moving back and forth, like the red visor eyes of Cylons.  She was now ready for retirement though, and that fact became evident in early March. 

I began asking around for a cat.  One neighbor was all too happy to help, and brought one over.  But as my brother-in-law said owners choose dogs, but cats choose owners.  This cat fled the scene before the neighbors returned to their own home.  In my frustration I said, “God, we really need a cat.”  Shortly, thereafter, within a day or two, the dogs were barking excitedly at the tree against our deck.  I saw some movement with the tree.  Thinking it was a squirrel or bird I dismissed it.  Later the barking commenced again.  My husband, home by this time, gave the matter closer inspection.  He pulled the cutest little orange tabby cat from the branches.  Remembering my plea of a few days ago I was in awe and amazement.  We at first used the name Topaz; but somehow that didn’t fit.  Buddha just popped into my head.  That name stuck.

The following week my answered prayers and synchronicities became more intense.  In laying the groundwork, five years ago, I perused my bookshelf for something to read.  The vast majority would fall in the range of self-help books.  I’m the queen of self-help books.  I thought I knew every book I had; however, one stood out.  It seemed out of place and strange.  I didn’t recognize it at all.  I pulled it out, racking my brain, trying to remember how I had acquired it.   The book was, “Where There is Light” by Paramahansa Yogananda.  It was just what I needed to read.  I was captivated by the words of this person and began a search on the web to find out more about him.  I read “Autobiography of a Yogi.”  I now have quite a collection of his books.  I made a habit of reading his words daily.  Like keeping a gratitude journal, his words kept me in the groove, so to speak.

A couple of days after Buddha appeared, I lay my Yogananda book down in frustration.  I said, “God, why can’t I meet a real live yogi, like these I’m always reading about?”  You guessed it.  Within that same week I received an email from a friend.  A Himalayan monk was coming for a month on a lecture tour.  He would be presenting his lectures within eighty miles from us.  I began to read the bio on him that my friend sent.  My body trembled and ecstatic tears of joy were falling as I read that his teacher’s teacher was Yogananda’s teacher. 

My husband and I got to attend quite a few of his lectures, making lots of new spiritual friends during this time.  I felt like his groupie; but I was not alone.  With each lecture the crowd grew.  Building fire codes were definitely broken.  We sat at a Universal Church, saddened, as others were, that this would be his last talk in this area.  We had no idea of his schedule, until he happened to mention during his talk that he would be presenting a talk on Divine Mother in Houston for Mother’s Day.  Both my eyes and those of my husband widened at this revelation.  We had weeks before made our reservations for the Houston area to see Chris’s parents. 

We did see the Swami in Houston, and again in June in Chicago.  There is so much to write about these experiences.  I will endeavor to do so in a different article.