Paramahamsaji sitting, eyes closed. Fully involved and satisfied in sitting, living, breathing. He sits like a lion in the centre of the world. Is this the look of experiencing God, being God, vibrating Aum and God? I am captivated.
Tears well, but I am not sad. I stay floating in this warm river of breath, Aum, cosmic breath.
Bathe me Paramahamsaji, be my mother.
Then resistance rises inside, reasons I'm not good enough.
Again, my gaze goes to him, I rush to wash in his ocean, let my tendrils float in the warmth.
People come and go. Paramahamsaji jokes in Hindi, a deep guttural laugh. The sound is part of the ocean roar.
Does he want me? Am I included? I pull myself separate.
Unchanged he sits, chatting and greeting many people. Why would I be different? I let myself open again. The current washes me, kirtan carries me.
Will I drown and lose myself? The pleasure of the fear in that drowning. Again, I separate.
He closes his outer gates (eyes and mouth) and radiates more strongly to my heart. In and out, as the Shiva Shakti triangles point down to earth and open up to heaven. I almost see the shimmer of energy a flash, a shadow, in the mind not in the eyes.
He is the hot spot of the trataka centre, not a man in a body at all.
I wash in the water of life.