Chapter 6
That evening, six computers held the following electronic document:
A Healing Journey to Tibet
Spirit is calling to the hearts of those who will be with us, and those who hold us in their prayers back at home. The following is intended for those who are holding the Tibet Travelers in their prayers. Some of you may want to join with the travelers closest to you in holding the energy they have chosen (see below). Some may wish to hold the entire group in prayer. Please hold the vision with us for transformation, spiritual enlightenment, delight, magic, and safety.
What Will The Travelers Do?
Join in a Healing Journey To Tibet for a memorable South Asian journey, visiting sacred temples, mountains, and monasteries throughout central Tibet, Nepal, and Bangkok, Thailand. We follow in the footprints of pilgrims, sages, and seekers who have been drawn to these pilgrimage sites for thousands of years for their beauty and subtle mysteries.
Our journey begins in Nepal. Together we explore numerous ancient sites in the Kathmandu Valley using traditional practices such as meditation and contemplation to sense the energy and magic of these places. We plan to spend several days in a monastery there. The journey continues northward to Lhasa, the heart and soul of Tibet, abode of the Dalai Lamas, a place of devout pilgrimage still today, and despite the Communist occupation, a majestic city of wonders!
Lhasa's main temples and monasteries are alive and thriving--you will be fascinated by the intense devotion and passion of the Tibetan people. From Lhasa we travel to Gyantse and the immense Khumbun containing many sacred Buddhist antiquities in seventy interlocking chapels. Then on to Shigatse / Xigatse, traditional home of the Pachen Lama, the second highest Lama in Tibet.
In Bangkok, we visit the Temple of the Emerald Buddha in the magnificent Grand Palace. Visits to Wat Po, the marble temple, the golden Buddha (five tons of gold!) will fill the days. Sacred shopping (visits to tailors and jewelry wholesalers) is possible.
Why
We can change the world by changing ourselves. It is only in changing ourselves that the world changes.
Enlightenment / Brother Francis
No definition of enlightenment can capture it. Since we are unique, so will be our experience of enlightenment. Concepts such as inner awakening, liberation, illumination, and satori attempt to convey the meaning of this experience. Inner transformation, self-realization, awareness, and a hunger for the “something more” which we may have glimpsed (my favorite) seem to come closest. Enlightenment comes in many forms--we may have a momentary glimpse of enlightenment, sense it from time to time, or we may experience its fullness, which is Buddhahood.
The energy of compassion grows out of our ability to love in a truly unconditional way. It is our ability to open our heart chakra, regardless of circumstance, and offer understanding without judgment. The Dalai Lama defines it “as a state of mind that is nonviolent and non-harming, or non-aggressive.” Compassion is not attached to relationship or intimacy, thus it is an energy we can carry at all times, to all people, in all places. To learn to carry compassion at all times is a big undertaking, and it brings us great tranquility. Being warmhearted puts us at ease with our inner being and others, thus bringing peace to the world. Compassion does not mean acceptance, but seeing past situations, into the heart or spirit of one another, remembering we are all creations of the same great Spirit. On our journey to Tibet, Nepal, and Bangkok, we carry this energy for ourselves, to light our way when politics, religion, and culture seem so foreign. We will work individually and collectively to know that we are one with all, to carry the intention that only good comes to all, and to harmonize ourselves, that we may bring that harmony into manifestation.
Authenticity comes with being our truest self, expressing our Light through action and Word with the highest integrity. It is the deepest inner core of who we are--our creative Spiritual Heritage in movement. "In the beginning was the Word" is as true now as when it was written, because every moment is the only beginning that exists. Let us cultivate our impeccability in every “right now” moment in order to radiate the Light of our Being through Word and action. Let us create true peace and healing wherever we walk and with whomever we touch, because we have cultivated our Purity/Impeccability.
Forgiveness will be approached and defined as an energetic transaction. Our focus will be to reclaim that energy that can then be used consciously, positively, and directed toward wellness, peacefulness, and co-creating with Spirit. We will be exploring the work of Eckert Tolle’s The Power of Now. Forgiveness is the best energy gift we can bestow upon ourselves.
The term “faithkeeper” seems to originate from the Native American tradition where one member of the tribe assumes this role. Such a person holds the faith together by remaining grounded in the vision of the whole, especially when obstacles and mishaps befall the group. Fluidity, openness, vigilance about both the inner and outer world, and discipline are essential parts of the faithkeeper role, as he or she is the one that the group relies upon at times of uncertainty, dissention, fear, and pain.
Simplicity / David
Singleness of purpose. No hidden motives in speech or behavior. One in heart and mind.
The Frequent Flyer monk awakened on his own about four a.m. on the morning of his departure for the Far East. Dew had settled over what is called “late summer” in Chinese medicine. Associated with this fifth season in Chinese cosmology are such things as spleen, stomach, mouth, lips, muscle, saliva, sweets, worry / openness, singing, afternoon, dampness, yellow, and the Peacemaker archetype. Depending on how these things are in balance, a person will experience good, or not so good, health of body, mind and spirit. Hopefully, some of these were in good balance for this trip of a lifetime.
Francis filled his mind with one of the spiritual thoughts offered to the monastics when they rose, found in their Spiritual Directory: “Sleep is the image of death, and awakening that of the Resurrection.” He next knelt for a quiet moment in which he offered his day, and everything in it to his God. Francis, in the spirit of the Saint for which he was named and their co-foundress St. Jane de Chantal, told God that he would try to embrace with equanimity and openness whatever came to him during the course of his day, be it something to his taste or something not so acceptable. The Lehigh University educated clinician within him chattered in the background of his mind--and I will try not to repress anything and deal with all of it in a healthy and realistic fashion.
Francis had given himself a haircut the day before. The five-dollar yard sale electric clippers worked well on the silver / brown band of hair which extended from one temple, around the back, and on to the other temple. Not only did this self-barbering process save money, it more importantly saved time.
Shaving, showering, brushing his teeth and taking the Chinese herbal formula and EPA / DHA oil used to lower his cholesterol took only minutes. Ever since the familial high cholesterol revealed itself in Francis, he treated himself, finding a natural way to do this very effectively. He now was treating a number of people for the same condition. Many of these patients were extremely grateful because years of a near starvation diet, eating practically nothing but birdseed, yielded little benefit. It’s not in the diet, he thought, it’s in raising the good cholesterol to chase out the bad.
Back to thoughts of you, my God. Help me now to prepare my day simply and peacefully. This process, done at rising each day, was something Francis found especially beneficial. He took a momentary look at the events that might occur during the day: ride to the airport, flight to Los Angeles, meeting at Hampton Inn in LA, dinner with the group, getting some rest.
Francis thought about some strategies for handling these events. None of them was particularly challenging so there was not much need for strategy. His attitude would be one of grateful acceptance and flexibility. Every traveler needs flexibility. He prayed for that grace and committed himself to be open to cooperate with that grace, that gift.
Once again, the monk told the God to whom he was vowed that he would embrace and deal with everything that came his way. In the spirit of his founders, there was little need to find things that were difficult to deal with to create mortification, which is nothing more than an attempt at dying to selfishness. Life handed us enough and if we dealt with those challenges well, that would be enough to sanctify anyone.
Francis opened the doors to the hermitage to let in some fresh air, made his bed, and fired up the computer to check his e-mail one last time. He did not know how abundant computers would be in the Himalayan Mountains. The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the Lord.
Aside from some spam, junk e-mail inviting him to enlarge or adjust body parts, some of which he didn’t even have, there was only one message of any significance. It was an exuberant post from Flo simply mentioning the names of the group and in letters almost too large to fit on the screen the statement:
“We’re going to Tibet!”
Francis went into his spam catcher and deleted all the junk mail electronically caught there, then he continued on to his virus catcher and deleted the files trapped there also. Having cleansed himself and his computer, Francis logged off , turned off the computer and monitor for one last time, and began to head for the Oratory.
A faint trickle from the fountain in the garden caught his ear as Abbot Francis paused to lock the Hermitage door after him. The full moon washed over the dew-laden countryside, causing it to shimmer with an unearthly coolness.
He walked across the driveway, opened the white door to the small barn-like structure, which served as a house of prayer for the community. He climbed the two low steps and found himself filled with gratitude for his simple life. He was also grateful for the up-coming time in which he hoped to get a little rest and renewal. As Francis sat down in the chair behind his choir stall, something told him that this trip just might not be very restful.
Now why am I thinking that? We are going to see vistas of mountains and rivers. We will be with the poor and simple as Jesus was. We will be staying in perhaps rather primitive but nice enough accommodations. I won't have a computer or a telephone for the most part. The patients whom I love will not be there for me to serve. My intuition is working overtime again.
The twelve inch tall glass jar-like container, suspended from the ceiling in a holder by three chains and containing a beeswax candle, flickered in the far right corner. As Francis sat in his chair on the left side of the Oratory, he looked up and the icon of Jane and Francis, spiritual friends in the Christian contemplative tradition whom his community emulated as masters of the spiritual life. They seemed to dance together in the nearby candlelight.
Her eyes, closed in the painting, and his eyes open, suggested the contemplation of St. Jane and the action of St. Francis de Sales. In reality, both created a wonderful blend of action and contemplation, much like the Martha and Mary story in the Gospel. Martha was busy preparing a meal for Christ and Mary quietly sat at his feet. Both had something wonderful to do and the two of them together, in Francis’ mind, symbolized the idea that we are all called to both sides of this precious coin that Jesus offers us.
Francis reached under his chair and pulled out his prayer bench, kneeling down on the floor he placed it over his ankles and sat back. Jesus was clearly this monk's master teacher. The Tibetans would call Jesus his “Root Lama.” Francis was happy to learn, in recent years, more about other traditions of prayer and healing. He asked Jesus to teach him about the way the people he would be visiting believed, and to give him a reverence for their traditions that would in no way deny his own.
The Abbot thought about the Medicine Buddha. He viewed the Medicine Buddha as someone with saint-like qualities, someone highly motivated to help and heal all sentient beings. He thought of one of the many prayers to the Medicine Buddha that he had learned in his studies.
Medicine Buddha Prayer
May all the diseases that sadden the minds of sentient beings that result from karma and temporary conditions, such as the harms of spirits, illness, and the elements, not occur in the realms of the world.
May whatever sufferings there are from life-threatening diseases that, like a butcher leading a being to be slaughtered, separate the body from the mind in a mere instant, not occur in the realms of the world.
May all embodied beings be unharmed by acute, chronic, and other infectious diseases, the mere sound of whose names terrifies beings, as though they had been placed inside the mouth of Yama, the Lord of Death.
May all embodied beings be unharmed by the eighty thousand classes of harmful interferers, the three hundred sixty evil spirits that harm suddenly, and four hundred twenty-four diseases, and so forth.
May whatever sufferings there are due to disturbances of the four elements, depriving the body and mind of every pleasure, be totally pacified, and may the body and mind have radiance and power and be endowed with long life, good health, and well-being.
By the compassion of the gurus and the Triple Gem, by the power of the Dakinis, Dharma protectors, and guardians, and by the strength of the infallibility of karma and its results, may these many dedications and prayers be fulfilled as soon as they are made.
The words of the song by a contemporary married man who lives in a Christian community, John Michael Talbot, sprang to life within him. He repeated the words “Healer of my Soul” over and over in his mind. Francis drifted into a trance-like state for a long period of time. The neuropsychologist in him would probably attribute the experience to an abundance of alpha waves. The spiritual side of the monk didn’t much care what things were called, believed such phenomena to be vehicles through which one can experience God, and knew as a scientist that it was fascinating to study the physical and psychological correlates of various spiritual experiences. Francis was, in fact, in the midst of long-range planning for a course on science and spirituality that he had been invited to give in the future and his mind often turned to these topics.
The next thing that came to the meditating monk’s consciousness was the sound of footsteps in the Oratory, the lighting of a candle on the altar, a ringing of the bell calling the community to prayer, and the entrance of the other members of the community into the Oratory. A neighbor named Hester frequently joined them and was with them this morning as they gathered to celebrate the office of Vigils--God breaking in through the darkness before the break of day.
After a series of Psalms had been sung and readings proclaimed the service concluded as Sister Jane de Chantal, Prioress of the community and the one who would be in charge during Francis’ absence, prayed a simple blessing for travelers over the head of the kneeling monk. Next, she took a small bottle of holy water and sprinkled it over the Abbot’s newly barbered head, inviting him to go in peace and with the prayers of the community. Standing up and placing his palms together in front of his heart in a prayer-like position, Francis gently bowed to each member of the community and took his leave. There was a “rightness” about this trip in the air, but there was also an ungraspable sense of uncertainty as to what would happen.
Francis’ drive down Route Thirty-three and then over Route Twenty-two in the “new used car” the community had purchased was accompanied by a Chinese medicine teaching tape. This was Francis’ third time listening to this set of tapes of over a hundred hours in length. There was so much to learn in a five thousand year old system of healthcare he thought, as he smiled to himself.
As was characteristic of him, after he did some learning, he would reward himself with books on tape. His present craze was a series of mysteries about a yoga practicing, karate doing, older women from New Brunswick, New Jersey named Mrs. Pollifax. She often found herself involved in international intrigue and mystery, not too unlike some of the adventures Francis and his friends had found themselves in over the years.
In just over a half hour Francis was pulling into the long-term parking lot at the Lehigh Valley International Airport. He would leave the community car here and a bus would take him to the main terminal. The fee was modest for the convenience of leaving the car there and having it there for him upon his return from the Orient in the middle of the night next month.
One large black canvas suitcase on wheels and a blue backpack were all he needed. Francis disciplined himself not to take too many books. He had a habit of bringing a variety of books because he didn’t know what way his taste would move when he traveled and so would have three or four subject areas to read from. More often than not he used only one of the books in his travels. This time he brought along the usual Liturgy of the Hours to be able to pray with the Church as he traveled through the world. He included a book on Salesian spirituality and a small New Testament. He also had a Brother Cadfael medieval monastic murder mystery tucked away in his backpack, along with earphone and a Walkman--which he often thought might be better called a “Walkperson” these days.
He parked the car in the semi-darkness and struggled with the electronic remote control that would lock the doors and activate the alarm system. The other community cars were so old that none of these new-fangled gadgets were part of them. After more beeps than he cared to remember, the car seemed to be resting peacefully, even projecting the feeling of a living being.
Brother Francis walked to the little metal open-air shelter where a shuttle would pick him up and transport him to the main terminal building. He was enjoying the cool quiet of the morning when a shiver moved up either side of his spine. Francis had the distinct feeling that he was not alone yet could not find anyone else around him. Movement about a quarter mile away caught his eye. A young lady with a small suitcase was making her way to another shelter to wait for the shuttle as well. Hers was not the presence he felt.
Even the paranoid has their enemies. It wasn’t that he felt particularly frightened; it was simply that he felt the presence of another in his space.
As he was struggling with this feeling, a minibus roared up to his bench and opened its doors in welcome. The driver wished him a good morning and invited Francis to make himself comfortable. The warmth of the driver was representative of the warmth of the people of the Lehigh Valley in general. As Francis settled himself he thought of his long-deceased father, a bus driver for many years in Philadelphia. They stopped at the next bench and picked up the young lady who was dressed in the clothing and attitude of an executive. Her laptop computer case was quiet evident, and her struggle to carry the suitcase, laptop and herself while looking completely confident was also evident.
Francis, for his part, tried not to think much about what he looked like, having lived with the certitude that the freest people of all are those who are beyond what others think of them. They stopped at yet another bench and the driver got out and assisted a blind man in his sixties into the minibus. In just a few minutes they were at the front of the main building. The driver helped the visually impaired man to connect with an airline representative for assistance, and Francis and the young lady exited the bus after that.
Since the terrorist attacks of 9/11, airport security had been increased. Francis went to the Delta counter and got in the long queue of people waiting to be taken care of. He was the required two hours early for his flight.
Abbot Francis usually flew on United Airlines because he was collecting his Frequent Flyer miles all on one airline these days rather than shopping around for the rock bottom price. When United did not work out, Francis would then choose Delta because their Sky Miles would transfer to United and he was more likely to get a free ticket at another time that way.
The ticketing went smoothly. Francis showed the agent his driver’s license and print out from an electronically purchased domestic ticket. She tapped on the computer a few times and boarding passes magically appeared. She handed them to Francis. His luggage was searched and x-rayed, and various stickers were placed within and without the baggage, and he half expected a sticker to be plastered on his forehead too. He moved on to find the down escalator so that he might proceed to his proper gate. He got in line on the lower level but this process was slower.
The men and women charged with the safety of travelers questioned, frisked, electronically monitored, and every sort of thing imaginable, the people who waited in line. This reminded Francis of his flights to Israel. El-Al Airlines are reputed to be the safest in the world. They are very cautious and the procedures being done throughout the United States today have long been standard for the safety of travelers on Israel’s airline.
Francis had the procedure down. He took the glasses, keys, and change, out of his pockets and placed it in a rubber tub. Next he took his Abbot’s cross from around his neck and put that in the tub as well. Finally Francis removed his Birkenstock sandals and added them to the collection. He had a little competition with himself these days. He wanted to see if he could get through the line without being beeped at. Everything seemed to be beeping at him these days in this electronic world.
Everyone was gracious and Francis did not get beeped, or even frisked, but he did have to show the underside of his belt buckle to someone. On the other side of the x-ray machines, Francis collected his tub and began to reclaim his possessions. A businessman mumbled, “I guess it’s okay for us to get dressed again.”
Down the hall and up another escalator he went. The excitement was building and he was shaking the sense of foreboding and presence that had come and gone in recent days.
It was time for breakfast. He pulled an apple out of his backpack and purchased some decaf coffee and an egg and cheese sandwich. He really wanted a piece of the gooey looking breakfast cake in the display case but thought that something with a little protein would be better for him during his travels.
Francis still had over an hour before his flight so he pulled out his trusty Walkman and continued listening to his Chinese medicine tapes. When he finished this complete tape he would then move on to Mrs. Pollifax.
His gray hip length cowl-shirt attracted some attention, but not as much as his long habit. The cowl-shirt was simply a loosely fitting tunic-like garment with a blue hood that rested on his shoulders, and was worn with gray pants. His Abbot’s cross hung around his neck. This traveling apparel would be folded and put in his suitcase when he moved toward the Communist countries if necessary.
Francis would not deny or hide the fact that he was a Catholic Christian monk, but in such circumstances he did not unnecessarily call attention to that fact. He did not relish the idea of several hours of questioning in an airport and missed flight connections.
Before long Francis wandered back to his assigned gate. He had been walking up and down the concourse of the airport as he listened to his tapes. The ground agent was making his first announcement for people with some sort of priority status or physical challenge, and then families traveling with small children to board first. Francis waited his turn and eventually the people of his section were invited to board.
He made himself comfortable in the less than spacious seat and tried to take a little catnap. Before long they were taxiing down the runway and lifting up into the blue sky. An avid people watcher, Brother Francis looked around the plane from time to time to see who his traveling companions were. Later, when he got up to stretch his legs he saw that the woman executive, as well as the man who happened to be blind, were among his fellow travelers. The sense of foreboding returned momentarily. Francis shook the feeling out of him and sat down, lowered his tray in front of him, and thanked the flight attendant as he handed Francis the tea he had requested. No decaf or green tea. Oh well, all is gift.
The change of planes in Cincinnati was uneventful, except for a rush from one terminal to another. Before long he was back up in the sky hurtling his way forward to Los Angeles.
A movie began. Francis enjoyed airline movies because they made the trip move along more quickly. His only difficulty was that he would fall asleep periodically throughout the movie. Thus, when he’d wake up again, someone who had been alive and well earlier was long dead. Sometimes, people that did not like each other were now madly in love. It was a little like doing psychotherapy with a former patient. When they return things have changed, often for the better, but with that might often come one or two new challenges that these changes have evoked.
Francis unbuckled his seatbelt and got up to stretch and to use the lavatory. There were his two earlier traveling companions, the man and the woman. That’s interesting, with all these people and flights we have wound up on two flights together.
After a combination of sleep and wakefulness, interspersed with movie clips, the aircraft landed in LA. Wading his way through the chaos, Francis retrieved his baggage in one piece and made his way out front to the shuttle vans, one of which would take him to the Hampton Inn. The fumes of the vans lingered in front of the airport so Francis kept his breathing to a minimum. No deep belly breathing here. The van ride took only ten minutes and Francis soon found himself in a small comfortable room. He had learned from the desk clerk that his other five fellow travelers were not yet checked in.
Since they do not have TV at the monastery, Francis thought he would give himself a treat and see what other people are looking at these days. A talk show hostess was interviewing a psychic. The psychic gentleman was encouraging the viewers to pay attention to their gut feelings. “Do not dismiss out of hand anything that you feel,” he cautioned. There is a great deal of information available to us if we would only attend to it. “Too often,” the psychic stated, “we ignore subtle thoughts and feelings and lose valuable guidance.”
Francis thought about the Holy Spirit, the one expression of God who is venerated as being the Source of all wisdom and inspiration. He prayed to the Holy Spirit that he would be mindful and attentive to whatever was necessary and that he would be able to discern between good and evil, and choose what is most life giving during this journey.
Eventually Brother Francis floated into a deep and dreamless sleep. He was startled out of his stupor by the jangle of the phone on the night table next to his head. He picked it up and croaked “hello” in a voice reminiscent of Tallulah Bankhead. It was Chantal.
“We’re here, Francis, we’re all here. How about if we meet in the dining room for dinner?”
“You’re here, but you’re not all there. Couldn’t resist. Sounds great to me Chantal. I’ll see you there and hopefully I’ll be awake by that time.” He replaced the phone and went back to sleep.
This time Francis dreamed. He dreamed that there were inner promptings that he was not paying enough attention to and that his six-pack of travelers might be in danger if he did not listen more carefully. Francis woke up with a start. He had always been rather intuitive. This gift was especially helpful in treating patients, but it also helped him guide the community and his own personal life. Why was he getting a message like this now?
He took a quick shower to wake himself up, and went down the stairs to the first floor where a very nice family style restaurant was located. Unless used in unavoidable circumstances, Francis believed that elevators were a health hazard. Seated at a spacious round table in the far left corner of the dining room were Dave, Chantal, Flo, Mani, and Krishna. What a wonderful reunion! This journey was certainly going to be healing and spiritual—he hoped.