Chapter VIII
When the speaker closed, we realized that the sun was well past the meridian. We sat there, not spellbound, but enraptured, as we were actually enclosed in the vista that had been set before us.
Where had the horizon gone? We had dropped it entirely; we were in and of infinity. The infinite was ours for the reaching out and acceptance of it. Do you wonder? Could we grasp the magnitude of who we were, where we were, and the importance of our place in the great plan of the Cosmos? Not yet, dear friends, not yet. Would the world accept it? We did not know. We had looked into the long, long past. What the future portends we know not until we have proved it by actually living the present. What the past has been for millions of years we have seen.
We were aware that the sun was shining but there was such a crystal brightness back of the sunlight that the sun seemed to darken.
We collected our notes and moved toward the entrance of our sanctuary. As we projected the impulse to take the step, we were traveling on beams of light rays. Thus we entered the room; yet there were no limiting walls. The Cosmos still enraptured and enthralled us. Could it be that we were an intricate part of this giganticity? The gigantic lies prostrate before the grandeur of the surroundings.
We sat down and allowed the silence completely to immerse us. Not a word was spoken. We were not even conscious of the passing of time until someone announced that the table was spread. The meal was of keen momentary pleasure but the keynote of our whole lives was the hours that had just passed. The sun had again reached the horizon and was fast disappearing as we arose from the table and walked out upon the ledge.
What a vista lay before us! It was not sunset; it was eternity, just a brief chapter being enacted for us, and here were our dear friends living with it chapter by chapter. Do you wonder that their lives are immortal? Do you wonder that we called them Masters? Yet not a hint of this ever passed their lips. We asked, “May we call you Masters?” Their answer was, “Sons, we are but yourselves.” Oh, the beauty, the simplicity. Why can we not be as beautifully humble!
As we were preparing to leave the ledge, instead of going down the stairs as we anticipated, we walked to the brink. No sooner had we reached the edge than we were all in the garden of the lodge. Not one of our party was conscious of what had taken place. We were not cognizant of going through the air or of any movement at all. By this time we were so accustomed to surprises that we simply accepted the situation.
From the garden we walked to the village and found that all was in readiness for an early start and that a number of the villagers had left to break trail through the snow that still blanketed the mountain pass to a depth of ten or twelve feet. This pass was about fifty miles from the village at an elevation of twelve thousand feet above sea level.
A large portion of the country is rugged and very difficult to travel over. It is the custom to pack the trail through the snow the day previous to its use so that the packed snow will freeze, thus supporting men and animals.
We arose long before dawn to find that every detail had been attended to. Jast and the Muni were to accompany us. The entire village had assembled to bid us Godspeed. We all regretted the necessity of leaving this village where we had spent two winters. We had formed a deep attachment for every one of the people there and knew that this feeling was reciprocated. They were simple, kindly folks. In order to show their appreciation, many went with us five or six miles. We exchanged our last farewells and were again on our way to India. Before we were actually to look down upon the southern slopes of the Himalayas, months would have elapsed.
As we walked along with the main body of the caravan, we became conscious that we were walking without effort. At times we seemed to see some point on the trail ahead, like a vision; the instant the point became definite, we were there, sometimes miles ahead of the main caravan.
At the noon hour, we found fires going and a meal prepared by three of the villagers who had stopped for this purpose. After lunch they returned to the village. We were told that the others had preceded us so that the trail through the snow over the summit would be easy to walk upon. Our camp was also ready for occupancy. All was prepared for us until we had crossed the pass and came down into the valley of Giama-nu-chu River; there we overtook the advance party of villagers. They had gone to all this trouble in order that we might be assured safe conduct through the rugged mountainous country. They left us here, as travel was easy through the valley.
I am purposely introducing this brief description to show, in a general way, the hospitality of these simple, kindly people throughout the whole trip to Lhasa. Seldom did we meet the cruel, austere native of Tibet that so many travelers love to write about.
We followed down the valley of the Giama-nu-chu, then up a tributary of that stream to the great Tonjnor Jung pass, thence down the tributary of the Tsan-Pu or Brahmaputra to Lhasa, where a welcome awaited us.
When we came within sight of the city, we felt we were nearing a Taos pueblo. One could imagine oneself standing before such a pueblo as we looked around on all sides. The palace of the great Dalai Lama or overlord of all Tibet stands out as the one great jewel of the whole city. While this city is the temporal head of Tibet, the deeper spiritual head is the Living Buddha. He is supposed to rule spiritually through the mysterious hidden city or center called Shamballa, the celestial. To visit this sacred place was one of our fondest hopes. It is supposed to be buried deep under the sands of the Gobi.
We entered the city, accompanied by our escort, and were conducted to our lodgings where our comfort had been provided for. A great crowd stood around outside for hours to get a look at us, as white people had seldom visited the city.
We were invited to go to the Monastery the next morning at ten and were told that we must make our every wish known, as all would deem it a special pleasure to serve us. We had an escort wherever we went and a guard was stationed at our door to keep out the curious, as the inhabitants of Lhasa are accustomed to walk into each others’ homes unannounced. We were the only diversion in their lives and could not blame them for their expressions of curiosity. If one of us went out alone they would crowd around with the evident intention of finding out whether or not we were real and sometimes this inspection proved rather disconcerting for the recipient of the inspection.
The next morning we were up early, completely refreshed and prepared to go to the Monastery to meet the High Priest who had preceded us only two days. As we left the city with our guard, it looked as if all of the inhabitants had turned out to do us honor.
As we approached the Monastery, the High Priest came out to meet us and, to our surprise, Emil and his mother were with him.
It was a wonderful meeting. The Priest seemed like a boy again, saying that he had wanted to see Emil or some one of our friends. He felt that he had failed in many things and wanted to talk to them in order to get a more complete understanding.
He also gave us our first news of the little home that had been erected in the village where he had charge. We found him speaking English fluently and very anxious to learn. We went to the Lamasery where all were made comfortable. Turning to Emil’s mother the Priest said:
“Power is the demonstration of the active Principle of God, my Father. It is always the constructive activity. There is never too much or too little of God’s perfect activity and manifestation; and God never fails, is never inactive. God Principle is always working constructively. I command that I do stand forth and that I am in perfect harmony with the active God Principle, and that alone.”
Here Emil’s mother took up the thought: “You can go on still further and say just as definitely, ‘I pour this divine flame through you, my physical body, and you are transmuted into that pure substance, which only God Principle sees.’
“Now it becomes necessary for you to accept and expand your consciousness to the God consciousness; and you, yourself, revel in God. You do actually become God, one with the Most High. Man belongs in this high estate. Here man is one with the essence of all things; he is truly God. Here no division can exist. Do you not see that man himself can become God or demon?
Can you not see that man’s true vibratory sphere is the whole vibratory sphere of God if he lives in that sphere? This is the only scientific sphere, the only place for man, and the only place where he can bring forth God and be one with God. Such a man is certainly more than the human concept of man.
“Do you not see then, that you belong to and are of God’s Kingdom and not that of any demon which is created by man’s own imaging faculty? Then, is it not a perfectly scientific and logical fact that man is and can be God or that he may image himself out of the God Kingdom and, therefore, create for himself a demoniacal realm which may seem real to him? I leave you to be the judge.
“This is the only issue upon which humanity stands or falls.
“There is but one choice, one purpose, one truth, and one science; and this makes you free. You become God or servants, as you choose.
“Stop for a moment and just think of the allness of God or Primal Cause, with no beginning or end, with universal scope, and surround yourself in this. As you become faithful and worship this, and this alone, ONE GOD, ONE ALMIGHTY PRESENCE—you will find that the vibrations of your body will change from the human to the God or Primal vibration. As you think, live, move, and become one with this vibration, you do worship; and what you worship, you idealize, you become. It is thus with and for all humanity. There is but one God, one Christ, One Union, One man; One general household, all brothers and sisters, all One.
“God cannot be brought forth as a person or a personal image but as an all-inclusive universality, interpenetrating all things. The moment you personalize, you idolize. Then you have the empty idol; you have lost the ideal. This ideal is not a dead saviour or a dead God. To make God alive and vital to you, you must think and know that you are God. This is more living and vital to you than anything. This is the divine science of your being. Then you, the Christ, your redeemer, becomes alive and one with you. You are that very thing. This becomes the motivating force of your whole life. You are redeeming yourself, the true you; you are one with God, truly God. By reverencing, loving, and worshipping this, it becomes ideal to you—God right within and active.”
Here the talk drifted to the possibility of going to Shamballa. The Priest asked whether it would be possible for him to go. He was told that if he could lay aside the body and reassemble it again, he could go without difficulty and that the party would go that evening. It was arranged that they should meet at our lodge early in the evening and that our Chief should go with them. The party assembled shortly after our return. After a short talk, they left by the door and we did not see them again for a number of days.
During this time we were occupied in making measured drawings in the Monastery. One day we were rummaging in one of the basements of the old Lamasery. After moving considerable debris, we came upon an old marble tablet. This we had carried out of doors and cleaned. When the cleansing was finished, the beauty of the carving and the exactness of the execution of detail surprised everyone. It even surprised the Lamas themselves.
An old Lama told us that when he was a very young boy he became a chela of one of the Grand Lamas who was in charge of the very old Lamasery at the time this tablet reposed in a niche in the wall and that his master insisted they visit this tablet the first Monday in each month at the hour of nine in the morning. He told us that as soon as they arrived at the niche where the tablet was placed and stood quiet for three or four minutes, a voice would sing the history of this tablet and the great things that the carvings portrayed.
The song claimed that the tablet was one of two that were carved to commemorate a great white civilization that had existed and flourished on a large portion of what is known as the American Continent, hundreds of thousands of years ago. The duplicate, or sister tablet, the song claimed, was in existence and could be found in the motherland of its creation, thus proving that such a land did exist.
We took the data as interpreted by the song. After a lapse of several years, we were working in the district described and found the twin or mate tablet imbedded in a great wall at the location claimed in the song. The walls proved to have been the walls of an old temple in Central America now in ruins. Thus it is seen how, through legend and song, direct truths are brought to light.
The interest we showed in the tablet and the legend repeated in the song gave us access to other records and data that were of invaluable assistance in our research work later. This incident was also the contributing factor that opened the doors to records that are in the Palace of the Dalai Lama, the Living Buddha, as well as those in the Monastery which have been guarded for hundreds of centuries. Many of these records and their importance were wholly unknown to those that guarded them. It was through legend in song that we were attracted to them, although with the exception of these tablets, they proved to be copies. These copies were carefully done and they pointed the way to the originals later on.
We were so completely engrossed in this work that we were unaware our friends and Chief had extended their stay. This we thought very little of, as unforeseen conditions can arise in this remote country to cause delays beyond our control. During this time the inhabitants had, in a measure, become accustomed to us and we had adjusted ourselves to their ways and means.
Curiosity had given way to friendliness on both sides and we were going about freely. The morning of the twelfth day, as we were preparing to go to the Monastery, we heard a commotion outside and, stepping out to investigate, we found that our friends had returned. Their trip had been successful and such a place as Shamballa did exist. We were told that much of the beauty and grandeur of its art and culture were still preserved in its original beauty and that its magnificence was beyond comparison.
