The Holy One sat cross-legged in the middleof the Inner Enclosure, immobile while his spirit soared above the highest ofthe Himalayan peaks. Below him, the temple drums boomed their hypnotic beat,carried along on the gentle, thin winds that were a constant companion at thisaltitude.
Inside the Lamasery, the Precious One appeared to be near death but in reality,was in a state resembling suspended animation. His breathing had dropped to amere one breath a minute, his heart put in a lethargic thump now and then andhis body temperature was at a level that would form frost in most noses.
The ability to place the body in such a state while the soul departed for partsunknown isn't a skill that can be learned overnight. Tripping the lightfantastic in another astral plane requires tremendous faith and dedication andcan be perfected only after intensive study of techniques learned overthousands of years.
Lamahood was open to only a few, and only one of their number became theHoliest of Holies. It was an unbelievably difficult existence when measuredagainst Western standards, particularly because few understood the mystery andcomplexity of Tibet and its people. To Tibetans, outsiders were light yearsbehind in their understanding of the universe and all its many wonders.Preoccupation with comfort, wealth, power, status and other meaninglessdiversions prevented them from ever experiencing, or even comprehending thetrue nature of the spirit.
The sanctuary was lit only by candles. Wisps of colored smoke wafted upwardsand combined with the incense to fill the halls with a smorgasbord of odorsfrom the dried leaves and petals of rare plants which grew only among thetreacherous slopes of the higher ranges. These were collected at great risk,dried and blended to produce scents that caressed only the nostrils of the HolyOne. All others were forbidden to enter the sacred chamber unless invited bythe Lama's present incarnation.
His room contained only the essential items necessary to meet his meager needsduring his journeys. In addition to the candles and incense, the only thingsrequired were a pot of hot buttered tea, a supply of tsampa, a staple made fromroasted barley, a bowl of scented water for washing, a silk cushion and atelephone, which, although it represented an intrusion of Western convenience,added a certain flair to the otherwise austere surroundings. It also enabledhim to work from the comfortable and familiar environment in which he preferredto dwell.
It was in this room that the Holy One communed with God. He spent long hourspracticing levitation and making himself invisible so that he might enhance hisdaily existence when he returned from his trips. Such was the life of a Lama.
At this moment, he was looking down on the snow covered peak of Nanga Parbat inIndia, fifth highest mountain in the world. He enjoyed soaring over these peakswhich only a handful of men had ever seen, and then only after months ofarduous training and life-endangering climbs up glaciers and sheer rock faces.
Sometimes he would go into space, casually looking in through the windows ofspace shuttles and examining orbiting satellites. Other times he plunged to thedeepest depths of the oceans to behold wonders never experienced by merelandlocked mortals. The universe was his playground and he was as unencumberedby the limitations of a physical body as air was by a sieve.
He was watching the snows swirl around the peak when a distant ringing noiseinterrupted his reverie. Sometimes he ignored the phone completely, but thistime he sensed there was some urgency involved. Rather than get an answeringmachine to handle the load when he was away, he preferred the personal touchand since only the most sincere were ever given his number, there was a certainamount of pre-screening built into the system.
Back in his body now, he adjusted his robe, glanced around to make sure the teaand tsampa were within reach, cleared his throat and picked up the receiver.
.
.
.:aro-d:
:aro-d:.
.:aro-d:
"Hello, Dial-A-Lama."
