Read Secret of Shambhala Page 13


  When I reached the cliffs, I searched in vain for an opening. None of the crevices were deep enough. The wind howled. At one point a huge clump of snow fell from one of the rocks and landed at my feet. I looked up at the tons of accumulating snow that was lining the sides of the mountain above me. What if there was an avalanche here? In my mind’s eye I could see the snow rolling down the mountain.

  Again, as soon as I had that thought, I heard a rumbling sound above me and to the right. I grabbed the gear and ran back toward the monastery just as a thunderous roar filled the air and snow rolled down the mountainside fifty feet away. I ran as fast as I could and collapsed into the snow halfway back to the monastery, terrified. Why was all this happening?

  With that thought, a memory of Yin came to my mind. He was saying. “At these levels of energy, the effect of your expectations is immediate. You will be tested.”

  I sat up. Of course! This was the test. I wasn’t controlling my fear images. I ran back to the old monastery and ducked inside. The temperature was falling rapidly, and I knew I had to risk staying inside. Setting my gear down, I spent several minutes imaging the stones staying in place.

  A shiver of cold ran through me. Now, I thought, I have to do something about this cold. I pictured myself sitting beside a warm fire. Fuel. I had to find some fuel.

  I walked out to look over the rest of the monastery. I had only reached the hallway when I was stopped cold in my tracks. I could smell smoke, the smoke of burning wood. Now what?

  Slowly I walked down the hallway, looking in each room as I came to it, finding nothing. When there was only one room left, I peered around the doorway. In the corner was a burning campfire and a store of wood.

  I stepped in and looked around. No one was here. This room had another doorway leading outside, and more of a roof overhead. It felt much warmer. But who built this fire? I walked to the outside opening and looked around at the snow. Still no tracks. I was turning around, heading for the door, when in the half-light I saw a tall figure standing at the edge of the doorway. I tried to focus on him directly, but I could see him only at the peripheral edges of my sight. I realized it was the same man I had seen in the snow when Yin had pushed me from the Jeep. I tried to focus on him directly again and he vanished. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and a chill went through me. I couldn’t believe what was happening.

  Cautiously I walked through the doorway and peered down the hall in both directions, seeing nothing. I thought again about fleeing the monastery and going down the mountain, but I knew the temperature was still falling fast and if I did I would likely freeze to death. My only option was to go get my stuff and stay by this fire. So I retrieved my gear and returned, peering nervously around every corner.

  As I sat down, a gust of wind whipped the fire and blew ash everywhere, and I watched the flames for a moment as they caught back up. I had imaged a fire and then it had manifested. But it was too much to believe that my field could be that strong. There was only one explanation. I was being helped. The figure I saw was a dakini.

  As eerie as it all was, that realization eased my mind, and I threw more wood on the fire and finished my soup, then unpacked my sleeping bag. After a few minutes I lay down and fell into a deep sleep.

  When I awoke, I looked around wildly. The fire had died down and the first light of dawn was emerging outside. The snow was falling just as hard as the night before. Something had awakened me. What?

  I heard the dull drone of helicopters growing louder, heading toward me. Jumping to my feet, I gathered my things. In seconds the helicopters were directly overhead, adding to the swirling wind.

  Without warning, half the monastery began to crumble and fall inward, creating a storm of blinding dust. I felt my way out the back opening and ran outside, abandoning my gear . The blizzard was still blowing horizontal snow, and I could only see a few yards in front of me, but I knew if I continued to run in this direction, I would soon come to the mountain face I had seen the day before.

  I struggled on until I could see the rocky slope. It was directly in front of me about fifty feet away, but in the dawn light I knew it shouldn’t be this visible. It was as if the mountain was bathed in a soft, slightly amber color, especially near one of the large crevices I had seen before.

  I stared a moment longer, knowing what it meant, then took off running toward the light as more of the monastery fell in behind me. When I reached the cliff wall, the helicopters seemed to be directly overhead. What was left of the old monastery completely crashed down behind me, shaking the ground and dislodging the snow in the crevice nearest to me, revealing a narrow opening. It was a cave, after all!

  I stumbled through the passageway and into total darkness, feeling my way ahead. I found the back wall and then another opening that was less than five feet high. It bent to the right and I crawled through it, glimpsing the smallest ray of light ahead, far in the distance. I struggled forward.

  At one point I tripped over a large rock and fell headfirst onto the dirt and gravel floor, skinning my elbow and arm, but the fading sound of the helicopters drove me onward. I shook off the pain and continued moving in the direction of the light. After I had traveled several hundred feet, I could still see the tiny opening, but it seemed no closer. I continued on for most of an hour, feeling my way toward the tiny illumination ahead of me.

  Finally the light seemed to be getting closer, and as I got to within ten feet of it, I was abruptly met with a blast of warmer air and the fragrance that I had smelled before at the monastery. In the distance somewhere I also heard a loud, melodious human cry that reverberated though my body, bringing forth an inner warmth and euphoria. Was this the call Lama Rigden had mentioned? The call of Shambhala.

  I climbed up over the last remaining rock and stuck my head through the opening. Before me was an unbelievable sight. I was facing a large, pastoral valley and clear blue sky. Beyond the valley were huge, snowcapped mountain peaks. All were strikingly beautiful in the bright sunlight. The temperature was chilly but temperate, and green plants were growing everywhere. In front of me the hill sloped gently down toward the valley floor.

  As I walked through the opening and started down the hill, I felt overwhelmed by the energy of the place and began to have trouble focusing. Lights and colors were swirling together and I felt myself slump to my knees. Out of control, I began to roll down the hill. I rolled and rolled, almost as though I was half-asleep, losing all sense of time.

  7

  ENTERING SHAMBHALA

  I felt someone touching me, human hands wrapping me up and carrying me somewhere. I began to feel safe, even euphoric. After a while, I smelled the sweet fragrance again, only now it was all-consuming, filling my consciousness.

  “Try to open your eyes,” a female voice said.

  As I struggled to focus, I was able to make out a figure of a large woman, perhaps six and a half feet tall. She was pushing a cup toward my face.

  “Here,” she said. “Drink this.”

  I opened my mouth and took in a warm, tasty soup made from tomatoes, onions, and some kind of broccoli that was sweet. As I drank, I realized my taste perception was enhanced. I could discern every flavor precisely. I drank most of the cup, and within moments my head cleared and I could again focus on everything around me.

  I was in a house, or what seemed to be a house. The temperature was warm and I was lying on a lounger made from a blue-green fabric. The floor was a smooth brown stone tile, and numerous plants in ceramic pots were sitting close by. Yet above me were blue sky and the overhanging branches of several large trees. The dwelling didn’t seem to have a roof or outside walls.

  “You should be feeling better now. But you must breathe.” The woman spoke in fluent English.

  I looked at her, spellbound. She was Asian in appearance, dressed in a colorful, embroidered Tibetan ceremonial dress and soft-looking, simple slippers. Judging from the depth of her gaze and the wisdom in her voice, she was about forty years of age, bu
t her body and movements gave her the appearance of a much younger person. And while her body was perfectly proportioned and beautifully shaped, every feature was exceptionally large.

  “You must breathe,” she repeated. “I know that you know how to do this or you wouldn’t be here.”

  Finally I understood what she meant, and began to breathe in the beauty of my surroundings and envisioned the energy coming into me.

  “Where am I?” I asked. “Is this Shambhala?”

  She smiled approvingly and I couldn’t believe the beauty of her face. It was slightly luminous.

  “Part of it,” she replied. “What we call the rings of Shambhala. Farther to the north are the holy temples.”

  She went on to tell me her name was Ani, and I introduced myself as she looked down on me.

  “Tell me how you got here,” she said.

  In a rambling way I told her the whole story, beginning with a brief description of my talk with Natalie and Wil, the Insights, and my trip to Tibet, including meeting Yin and Lama Rigden and hearing about the legends, and then finally finding the gateway. I even mentioned my perceptions of the light, apparently the work of the dakini.

  “Do you know why you are here?” she asked.

  I looked at her for a moment. “All I know is that I was asked to come by Wil and that it was important to find Shambhala. I was told there is knowledge here that is needed.”

  She nodded and looked away, thinking.

  “How did you learn such good English?” I asked, feeling weak again.

  She smiled. “We speak many languages here.”

  “Have you seen a man named Wilson James?”

  “No,” she said. “But the gateway can enter the rings at other places. Perhaps he is here somewhere.” She had walked over to the potted plants and was pulling one of them closer to me. “I think you must rest awhile. Try to absorb some energy from these plants. Set in your field the intention that their energy is coming in and then go to sleep.”

  I closed my eyes, following her instructions, and within moments I drifted off.

  Sometime later a swooshing noise aroused me. The woman was standing in front of me again. She sat down on the edge of the lounger.

  “What was that noise?” I asked.

  “It came in from outside.”

  “Through the glass?”

  “It’s not really glass. It’s an energy field that looks just like glass, but you can’t break it. It hasn’t been invented in the outer cultures yet.”

  “How is it created? Is it electronic?”

  “Partially, but we have to participate mentally to activate it.”

  I looked out at the landscape beyond the house. There were other dwellings spread out over the gently rolling hills and meadows, all the way down to the flat valley. Some had clear outer walls, like Ani’s house. Others seemed to be made of wood in a uniquely designed Tibetan style. All were nestled unobtrusively into the landscape.

  “What about those houses out there with different architecture?” I asked.

  “They’re all created by a force field,” she said. “We don’t use wood or metals any longer. We just create what we want with the fields.”

  I was fascinated. “What about the internal construction, water and electricity?”

  “We do have water, but it manifests right out of the water vapor in the air, and the fields power everything else we need.”

  I looked outside again, disbelieving. “Tell me about this place. How many people are here?”

  “Thousands. Shambhala is a very big place.”

  Interested, I swung my legs off the lounger and put my feet on the floor, but experienced severe light-headedness. My vision blurred.

  She got up and reached behind the lounger and handed me more soup.

  “Drink this and breathe in the plants again,” she said.

  I complied and eventually my energy returned. As I took in more air, everything became even brighter and more beautiful than before, including Ani. Her face had become more luminous now, glowing from within, exactly the way I had seen Wil look at times in the past.

  “My God,” I said, looking around.

  “It’s a lot easier to raise your energy here than in the outer cultures,” she commented, “because everyone is giving energy to everyone else, and setting a field for a higher cultural level.” She said the phrase “higher cultural level” with emphasis, as though it had some greater meaning.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off the surroundings. Every form, from the potted plants close to me, to the colors of the floor tile, to the lush green trees outside, seemed to glow from within.

  “All this seems unbelievable,” I stammered. “I feel as if I’m in a science fiction movie.”

  She looked at me seriously. “Much science fiction is prophetic. What you see is simply progress. We’re human just like you, and we’re evolving in the same way that you in the outer cultures will eventually evolve, if you don’t sabotage yourselves.”

  At that moment a young boy of about fourteen ran into the room, nodding politely to me, and said, “Pema called again.”

  She turned to him. “Yes, I heard. Will you get our jackets and one for our guest?”

  I couldn’t take my eyes off the boy. His demeanor seemed much older than he looked, and his appearance was familiar. He reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t remember who.

  “Can you come with us?” Ani said, breaking my stare. “This may be important for you to see.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “To a neighbor’s house. Just to check things. She thinks she conceived a child a few days ago, and she wants me to check her out.”

  “Are you a doctor?”

  “We don’t really have doctors, because we no longer have the illnesses you are familiar with. We have learned how to keep our energy above that level. I help people monitor themselves and extend their energy and keep it that way.”

  “Why do you say it’s important for me to see?”

  “Because you happen to be here at this moment.” She looked at me as though I was dense. “Certainly you must understand the synchronistic process.”

  The young boy returned and I was introduced. His name was Tashi. He handed me a bright blue jacket. It looked exactly like an ordinary parka except for the stitching. In fact, there was no stitching at all. It was as if the pieces of fabric were simply pressed together. And surprisingly, even though the jacket felt just like cotton, it weighed almost nothing.

  “How are these made?” I asked.

  “They’re force fields,” Ani said as she and Tashi walked through the wall with a whoosh. I tried to follow and bounced back from what felt like a solid piece of Plexiglas. The boy outside laughed.

  With another swoosh, Ani came back in, also smiling.

  “I should have told you what to do,” she said. “I’m sorry. You must visualize the force field opening for you. Just intend it.”

  I gave her a skeptical glance.

  “Just see it opening in your mind and then walk through.”

  I did as she described and then walked forward. I could actually see the field open up. It looked like a distortion in the space, something like the heat rays one can see on a highway in the sun. With a swoosh I walked through onto the outside walkway. Ani followed.

  I shook my head. Where was I?

  Following Tashi, we traveled along a winding path that moved gradually down the slope of the hill. As I glanced back, I saw that Ani’s house was almost totally hidden by trees, and then something else grabbed my attention. Near the house was a square, black, metallic-looking unit the size of a large suitcase.

  “What is that?” I asked Ani.

  “That’s our power unit,” she replied. “It helps us heat and cool the house and set the force fields.”

  I was totally confused. “What do you mean, helps you?”

  She was walking in front of me as we continued down the slope. She slowed down and let me walk up beside her.
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  “The power unit by the house doesn’t create anything by itself. All it does is amplify the prayer-field you know about to a higher level, so that we can then manifest what we need directly.”

  I looked at her askance.

  “Why does this sound so fantastic?” Ani asked, smiling. “I told you: it is merely progress.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “During all this time of trying to reach Shambhala, I guess I never gave much thought to what it would be like here. I guess I thought it was going to be just a group of high lamas in meditation somewhere. This is a culture with technology. It’s fantastic…”

  “It’s not the technology that matters. It’s how we have used the technology to help build our mental powers that is important.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “All this is not as outlandish as you think. We merely discovered the lessons of history. If you look closely at the human story, you can see that technology has always been just a precursor for what could eventually be done with the human mind alone.

  “Think about it. Throughout history people created technology to enhance their ability to act and to be comfortable in the world. In the beginning it was only pots to hold our food and tools to dig with, then more sophisticated houses and buildings. To create these items, we dug up ores and minerals and fashioned them into what we envisioned in our minds. We wanted to travel more effectively, so we invented the wheel and then vehicles of various sorts. We wanted to fly, so we made airplanes that helped us do it.

  “We wanted to communicate more rapidly, over great distances, anytime we wished, and so we invented wires and telegraphs, telephones, wireless radios, and television—to let us see what was happening in another location.”

  She looked at me questioningly. “See the pattern? Humans invented technology because we wanted to reach out to various places and connect with more people, and we knew in our hearts that it was possible for us to do that. Technology has always been just a stepping-stone to what we can do ourselves, what we knew was our birthright. The true role of technology has been to help us build the faith that we can do all these things ourselves, with our inner power.