Gertraud Reichel - Babaji - Gateway to the Light

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Inspired by his dreams, a young Indian went searching for and found a sadhu «of perfect beauty» sitting in deep absorption, in a cave in the Himalayas. It was June, 1970 and the young sadhu soon revealed himself to be the incarnation of the legendary Babaji, a great saint of the Himalayas, famous in the nineteenth century, whose recent advent had been prophesised. In the years thereafter, Babaji lived and taught at the ashram in the north-Indian village of Haidakhan until, as he himself said, «he had fulfilled his task», and voluntarily left his body in February 1984.
This book is about marvellous, multifaceted everyday life in the presence of Babaji, both in Haidakhan and on tour, as experienced by visitors and devotees, and in particular by the author. Drawing from her many visits during the years 1979 – 1984, she intimately describes her own personal experiences with Babaji at his ashram and when she had the privilege to accompany him on tour through various parts of India.

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"It is the most beautiful thing you could have offered Babaji!"

Babaji did not listen at all when I tried later to tell him more about the contents of the manuscript. That didn't really surprise me because he already knew what was there; he had held it in his hands. The manuscript had fulfilled its purpose.

Back in my room I wondered about other experiences where Babaji's guidance had opened my heart-chakra. I don't know how he had worked on me. I sensed only the effects. Were they the consequences of his teachings put into practise, I wondered...

At Haidakhan one time during karma yoga, my job was to carry stones. The riverbed is covered with thousands of rocks and stones, of which Babaji said "they are souls". At that time I had no idea that such dense matter as rock could have consciousness. I was picking up stones and carrying them over to another spot where they were needed as building material. Nearby the low stream gurgled onward. It was a hot sunny day. They were everywhere, these sun-warned round stones, as far as the eye could see. I became aware they had some special vibration, some kind of intense, powerful love. It came from the stone in my hand and from all those lying around me. It was a strong lovingness that I hadn't found among human beings. I stopped for a moment to concentrate on this new feeling inside, this marvellous discovery. The entire creation, myself included trembled with love, love that is inherent in everything that exists, love that is buried under most of the time in humans.

How powerful must Babaji's love for humanity be, and now I was experiencing an aspect of this all-embracing love. Soon I became aware of someone standing next to me; it was a woman who had just arrived from Germany. I began to wonder what Babaji feels on seeing his disciple again after a long absence? As I looked at her a powerful wave of love came flooding from my heart and then it was as though my body and everything surrounding were in the midst of luminous fire. What a perfect answer to my question! I had never understood an answer so clearly before.

It was amazing how this feeling arose in me. I could not influence its arising or even steer its course, let alone reach a sense of freedom that comes from love and joy. This was an automatic process. Babaji's voice could evoke many different reactions: joy, compassion, sadness, a rebalancing of the yin yang energies.

Shortly after lunch that same day I sat alone with Babaji near the gate to the temples built just beyond the cave, where he was first discovered in 1970.

He asked, "Are you happy?"

"Yes, ... that much!", I answered, and showed him half an inch with my thumb and finger. Inwardly I thought "I will only be really happy when I'm able to hear your voice within, when I have become one with you."

"What, you're not happy?", he asked.

"Oh yes!", I repeated and showed again with the words "that much" the measure of half an inch. The answer wasn't easy for me.

"Go!", he shouted, with a wild, dismissive fling of the arm and sent me back to the ashram. A flood of sadness threatened to envelop me but this changed in an instant to a feeling of unrestricted joy as I jumped in the air shouting: "I am free, I am free!" I was happy, overjoyed, jubilant.

Like pearls on a string, one heart-opening experience followed another. They became greater and stronger until they unexpectedly culminated in a sat-chit-ananda (being-consciousness-bliss) state. Unconditional love filled a great emptiness in me, giving my life a new direction. It taught me to love God and his creation, not merely the eye-catching and wonderful parts, but also the hardly noticeable bits, judged insignificant or ordinary, that pure love also permeates.

***

After the episode with the manuscript, I had gone to my room. Nobody was in there. I lay down and rested, and was enjoying the privacy and short break from everything when an elderly man put his head round the door. I had noticed him in the crowds before. His old-age and humble bearing had somehow impressed me. I asked him in. He sat on the floor opposite me. We exchanged a few words in English and then fell silent. I began to ask myself why I had invited this stranger into the room. I guessed he might be lonely, feeling lost in this large house teeming with people. At that thought, my heart opened and a great love flowed out to him and to all humankind. Was it love, was it empathy, or understanding that we all share the same ultimate destiny that unites us all, ... even though each of us is unique and therefore ever alone, no matter what life situation we are in? The man then softly said goodbye and left and these feelings faded away.

A few hours later Babaji told everybody about an OM-sign that had appeared on this same, eighty-two-year-old man's head and said we should all take a look and bow down to him (he was seated on the floor next to Babaji). So, after receiving Babaji's blessing, each person then passed in front of the old man and could not fail to see the large blueish OM-sign clearly marked on his lightly tanned, bald scalp. It was as obvious as a tattoo. It was still visible on the day when we finally left Calcutta. Some of the Indians who had shared my room told me they were present when the miracle happened: at first something like smoke rose up from his crown, and then the OM sign manifested.

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