Daily Theosophy

The family was widely respected and loved – though that one thing that had happened nobody ever understood, and everyone avoided to talk about it.

(70)

(thousand years later)

Almost a thousand years later Shano and Marico (though of course they were given different names by their then parents in the language of the country in which they were born) became again brothers. This time Shano was a few years older than Marico. Almost from babyhood they had loved two things, or rather three: wood, music, and each other. Later they started a workshop making high quality wooden musical instruments, such as lutes, flutes, harps, and other instruments, and besides being high quality instruments, they carved the wood covering the sound holes and of the scrolls and other ornamentation of the instruments delicately. To do this you need a great knowledge of wood types and their specific properties over time. Marico built strong instruments according to standard models, and they became very popular. Musicians would come to the workshop, hold several instruments and try them, and often choose for the one that looked best. Marico sold more instruments than Shano. Shano’s instruments were all a little different, all of them were a creation in themselves. But it also happened that buyers would see and play a number of Marico’s instruments, and then Shano’s, and they would merely smile and buy Shano’s. Marico’s instruments were technically perfect, but Shano’s had a soul. If Shano knew the musician and worked to assignment, he could make an instrument which fitted perfectly and uniquely with that musician: he would create a harmony of souls. Marico recognized the quality of Shano’s instruments – but he was never jealous. The brothers worked together like a mind and a heart should work together. Shano had also developed a strong interest in philosophy and religion. He read books about these subjects, and hoped that one day he would be so enlightened that he could uplift the moods and even characters of the players and listeners. He dreamt that he could produce a sound that would make all people wiser and happier, and make them feel that ‘God’ really exist – in the sound as well as within themselves, in their heart.

He had made a friend also: an old grey-bearded man who really liked the instruments Shano was making. He would play them, and it sounded as if the music came straight from heaven. He could have been 70 or 80, but just as well 300 years old. He seemed ageless. His grey eyes where as bright as those of a child. He used to come only occasionally, perhaps once in two months, but sometimes he wouldn’t show up for more than a year. He was wearing a woolen garment, and spoke with an accent – apparently he came from a foreign country, but he never told where he actually came from. He seemed to understand Shano’s deepest feelings and thoughts. Shano shared his heart’s wish with him: that he could produce a sound that would make all people wiser and happier, and make them feel that ‘God’ really exist – in the sound as well as within themselves, in their heart. The old man only answered: “You will,” but added “but not yet.” And there was some sadness in his face, which Shano did not understand. “When?” asked Shano. The old man hesitated and looked at Shano; then he answered with a kindness directly from his heart: “In about 600 years.” Shano thought it was a joke: he could not be expected to live for a at most a few decades more, and he said laughingly: “Oh, old wise man, you are really funny.” But the man continued seriously, and added: “But you will only reach perfection in your desire after a few thousand years.” Shano was dazed. The man said: “But I will help you” “How can you help me after 600 years?” Shano said. But the old man was completely undisturbed by this rather logical question. “I can teach you only about the human emotions – the most subtle feelings people can have – and how to touch these emotions and turn them into pure joy. I can even understand the emotions of animals, and even plants like my music when I play. But I can not teach you all the intricacies of the human mind, for I am as yet not wise enough for that.” Shano was looking at him with wide open eyes – he was intrigued; or had the old man gone crazy, using some drugs? “Even less I understand of the higher levels of the human mind, and who a human being really is: there where he is always, immortal, even when he is on earth at the same time.” By now Shano had enough stuff to philosophize on the rest of his life. As always, at an unexpected moment the man would get up, nod friendly, and had disappeared before Shano realized that he was going. He had again learned something which his mind couldn’t grasp. Life continued as usual.

Shano was in his thirties, at the pinnacle of his success and skills, when something terrible happened. He was hit by a bolted horse and broke his jaw and his leg, and his hand was damaged beyond repair. There was no more playing and building of instruments for him. His brother had to care for him the rest of his life, and he did so with great dedication. Shano spent much of his life studying and thinking deeply, and hearing the music from the universe he had hoped to play. He was never unhappy. The old man kept visiting him, occasionally and throughout Shano’s life; sometimes in the middle of the night, when they could be alone. He explained to Shano the relation between sounds, intervals and timbres, and their feelings, of subtle movements of pitch by pressing on the strings, he taught about sadness and happiness, in a way that Shano would feel these emotions in himself as pure beauty. Even sadness became joy. Shano could not play, but he could listen. Despite his scars, his face radiated magnificence until the day of his passing at a high age.

In his next life, hundreds of years later, he became a musician. He became famous and very popular. People who listened to his music felt as if it was played for them only. It touched there deepest feelings and made them feel happy. He never met the old man in that life, and did of course not even remember him. But sometimes he felt, while playing, an inspiration which made him forget himself and the people he played for. It seemed as he was just a performer of music coming from heaven. Thus he became a better and better musician, even though many of his old admirers thought that his music had become boring. The fact was that the music was just behind their power of comprehension as yet. But, unconscious to himself, Shano had still thousands of year before him until he would reach perfection: when he would not even need musical instruments to lift people far above their everyday consciousness – just by being present. When he would understand who people really are.

In this story, it is nature herself which performs the art of healing for the soul, and better than any doctor can do: by harmony, by subtle awareness, by music, even by magic as in the case of the witch, and by providing herbs which translate the forces of the firmament. Even by accidents: accidents are the teachers everyone fears and tries to avoid, but really they belong to the greatest of all – but of coarse not the softest. The one who gets an accident has at one time, recently of in the far past, evoked its by his own thinking and acting. Accidents teach you within seconds what you would not have dared to see on your own initiative in years: everything which is dear to you in life, and of which you think that it is “the real thing” may be destroyed in a split second. Your sports, your profession, your relations, your health. You will have to start all over again – it seems. But in reality they give a great opportunity to accept a new challenge – or reject it. Shano would never have been able to study and think as much as he would have done while working as an instrument builder or woodcarver. He would never have reached the depth of understanding at the feet of his wool clad master if he had always been busy. This master knew all this for many centuries. He had been the one who had initiated the temple in the village were Shano lived in the far past – about a hundred years before Shano was born into this life. And he had always watched him. Shano had kindled a spark in his own heart – and the teacher knew that, even though the mind of Shano himself wasn’t aware of it. Nevertheless the accident would not have been necessary, had Shano not attacked his brother in the past, and sworn revenge out of jealousy in an even further past – merely out of momentary frustration.

Praja was responsible for helping people who had got into trouble as a result of having a mind and free will – and had not properly listened to their inner silent voice, but rather follow the impulses of the animal which they had been in the past and were still carrying with them; Adi taught in a way that would educate the human mind and spirit of those would listen directly – and those who listen become great people, Adi’s genuine and reliable helpers, who avoid much suffering for others.

(71)

(Continuation of Praja’s Third Dream)

Continuation of Praja’s Third Dream

Before this long story about Shano and Marico we were talking about several ways of healing: by restoring harmony in the physical body or the etheric (or subtle-physical) body, or in the streams of energy running though the body.