A DUTCH DEVOTEE’S AMANZING FIRST EXPERIENCE WITH SRI RAMANA

[Guest guest]

A DUTCH DEVOTEE'S AMANZING FIRST EXPERIENCE WITH SRI RAMANA

 

Wolter A.Keers was a Dutch teacher and writer who lectured

extensively on Yoga and Advaita in Europe in the 1970s and 80s.

Shortly before his death in the 1980s, he invited his friends to a

party in his house in the Netherlands. At the end of the party, he

informed his friends that he was going to give up his body. He

prostrated to a large photo of Sri Ramana that he had placed on the

floor. Then he placed a cushion in front of the photo, laid down

his head on the cushion at Sri Ramana's feet, and passed away. He

writes:

 

I brought a large amount of spiritual samskaras into this

life. I was also born into a family of clergymen. All interest in

our household was focused on matters of religion. I must have been

taught how to pray almost before I could talk.

During a despairing phase of my life, I read Jnana Yoga by

Swami Vivekananda. It caused something of an explosion in me.

There, in those pages, I finally found someone who had been able to

put into words what I had been feeling intuitively. It was a relief

to discover that my own problem and spiritual hunger had been shared

by countless seekers down the ages.

Not long after, I came across the Secret Path by Paul

Brunton [No.1]. When I read in those pages that there was a living

sage in India with whom one could talk, blue patches returned to my

sky. There was a photo of Bhagavan in the book. I used to focus on

it during my meditation and I also began to concentrate on the heart-

centre that Bhagavan had stated was on the right chest. It took a

lot of effort and practice to become fully absorbed in these objects

of meditation, but I persevered because I felt at the time that

these were tools that had been given to me by Bhagavan. I

concentrated on Bhagavan more and more. Sometimes, I was almost

fighting with him, begging him to help me in my efforts to come and

see him. I know it sounds absurd to make such a claim, but there

came a point when I could confidently say `I won'. One day I looked

at Bhagavan's photo and knew with a calm unshakable certainty that I

would be travelling to India. And the opportunity came in the

beginning of 1950.

Roda Mac lver [No.126], a Bombay devotee who had been living

near Bhagavan for several years took me to the Ashram and pointed

out Bhagavan to me. The mere sight of him made me tremble all over

because I had come face to face with the divine. This recognition

affected me so much that my body shook involuntarily. As I gazed at

Bhagavan, I felt I saw God himself sitting there. In that early

morning meeting I saw a blazing light that had taken human form. It

was more radiant than anything I had ever seen before. When I was

very young, I had believed that God was some magnificent being,

having a human form that radiated light and goodness. I had long

since abandoned this childhood belief, believing it to be a fairy

story that was told only to credulous children. Yet now this

childhood belief turned out to be true, because here before me was a

human form that seemed to be made of light itself. God became

manifest before my eyes, announcing his presence to me by radiating

a blazing, penetrating light, a light that went right through me

like x-rays.

When I had time to reflect on this first darshan, it seemed

amazing that such an air of normality could prevail around someone

who was radiating so much light and energy. Perhaps other people

were not seeing and feeling what I was experiencing. I asked Roda

about this later that day. She laughed and said, `Many people do

have special experiences when they see Bhagavan. For most of the

time we all see him as a normal, elderly person sitting on a sofa,

but once in a while he graces us with an experience, such as you had

today, that convinces us of his greatness and his divinity.'

There was a radiant power and energy in Bhagavan's presence

that effortlessly swept through the mind and matter. His grace

silenced my mind, it filled my heart, and it took me to realms that

were way beyond the phenomenal. The light radiating from Bhagavan

filled my being, sweeping away all my darkness in one stroke.

Effort seemed redundant when his presence alone was enough to

evaporate the usual mental flow of thoughts, ideas and problems.

For me, Bhagavan's immediate presence was so overwhelmingly

potent, nothing could distract or disturb me there. However, I

began to notice that the exalted state of experience in his presence

gradually wore off when I went back to my little house opposite the

Ashram. Sitting in Bhagavan's presence I felt a quiet lucidity.

All thoughts and problems would be swept away, burnt in the raging

fire of his potent presence. But after a few hours of being alone

in my room, I would realise that these states were only temporary

because my old thoughts and problems would eventually rise up

again. I felt I had to confront Bhagavan with this problem. I had

not come to him for blissful experiences, I had come to him to seek

a permanent end to my mind and all its problems.

That day when I passed in front of him a quick smile passed

over his face. I somehow felt that he knew what I had come for.

Was he smiling at the audacity of my demand. I sat down among the

crowd close to Bhagavan, and began to bombard him with thoughts.

With all the mental energy I could summon up, I shot out my

complaint at him: `Bhagavan, of what use is all your radiance to me

if I cannot solve my mental problems the moment I leave you?' This,

with minor variations, I repeated again and again. Bhagavan took no

notice. He continued to go through his everyday routine.

Frustrated, I concentrated on him even more. I tried to shake his

indifference with my thoughts. I felt I was shaking him the way I

would shake a tree to get a fruit to fall off. The whole force of

my will was focused on one thought, `I must have an answer; I must

have an answer.' Finally, my mental persistence paid off. He turned

in my direction and looked at me with a smile of utter amazement on

his face. Then his expression changed and its new configuration

exclaimed, `You are looking for your glasses and they are on your

nose!' No words passed his lips, but the message came to me with

unbelievable clarity. There was no doubt or conjecture or

imagination. Bhagavan continued to gaze at me. Perhaps he was

waiting for some kind of response.

Suddenly his eyes emitted light and spat fire at me. I can

think of no other way of describing that sudden explosion in his

gaze. His powerful look went straight into me, boring away at

everything that made me think I was different and separate from

him. I felt the right-hand-side heart getting warmer as he

continued to gaze at me, until I felt it to be a hot, fiery ball

glowing inside me. I felt as if he was charging it with some

immensely powerful spiritual electricity because, as he continued to

look at me, I had the unmistakable feeling that this heart-centre

was some kind of spiritual dynamo that was emitting sparks of light

and energy. I felt as if some enormously potent electrical

apparatus had been suddenly transplanted into my chest. I sat rigid

and straight, my eyes glued to his. Fire flowed from his glowing

eyes and drilled into the core of my being. How long this

transmission lasted, I cannot say. Time and space had no meaning in

that never-ending moment when our eyes were locked together. At

some point, I realised that my body could no longer stand the

strain. The fire in my chest had expanded to the point where I felt

that I was about to explode. Mentally, I asked Bhagavan to let me

go.

I had received what I had come for. There was a complete

transformation, inside and out, and it all happened without a word

being spoken. That communication through silence was clearer and

more direct than any explanation that could be given in words.

(Source: The Power of the Presence by David Godman, part- 3. The

book is available at the Kendram's bookstore.)

 

prof laxmi narain (prof_narain)

 

Source and courtesy: Sri Ramana Kendram, Hyderabad

This article was published in Sri Ramana Jyothi,

monthly magazine of the Kendram.