by chance i was walking through the back streets of china town, it was a hot spring night and on the main street a feast of entertainment. market stalls, food vendors, trinkets and glitter from the manufacturing empire of the yellow emperor. i preferred the side streets away from the crowds who jostled their way along the sideshows and restaurants. i could feel the energy of the night upon my tongue, it seemed to tingle upon my fingertips like a invisible current dancing down my spine.
i had just eaten, a pear salad across town and was walking, looking for the chinese cake shop i liked to indulge in, they made the most glorious lotus seed cake but the crowds and bright lights had forced me away from the main street and i was looking for the side entrance when i chanced upon a beggar.
i had just eaten, a pear salad across town and was walking, looking for the chinese cake shop i liked to indulge in, they made the most glorious lotus seed cake but the crowds and bright lights had forced me away from the main street and i was looking for the side entrance when i chanced upon a beggar.
normally i don't take any notice of people who beg, it's something that occurs and is blocked, i have no response, i have no compassion, i have no anger, i feel absolutely nothing but an indifference. i never give anything to beggars and i never engage them in conversation. i can't even tell you why, maybe it's to confronting, maybe i just don't care, maybe it would break my heart and send me into despair if i found myself seeing the human face of these people, besides most western beggars where just alcoholics looking for a way to continue their addictions and i didn't want to encourage that.
but on this night, at around midnight i had an encounter that changed everything.
i noticed him because he was kneeling down praying. he had his hands gripped together in a mantis gesture and looks to be mumbling his words and his eyes shone with what i can only say is utter conviction, they were wide open staring not at any passers by but at space itself, he was praying with such powerful intent it nearly knocked me of my feet.
reaching into my pocket i found myself giving him all my cash, save for the $5 i needed to get me home. it was not a great amount,, maybe $15 or $20. i placed it in his hands, near a small bowl with a few loose change inside but he never seemed to notice anything at first, just kept mumbling and looking up to the heavens, it was all very incoherent yet he looked so fixated upon the stars and i could feel something about him, intuitively as he slowly turned his face and for the first time acknowledged my presence. a strange look passed between us and then i found myself looking into his eyes, locked in a gaze.
i broke it in a swift single movement, almost like a ballet move, i twirled away and continued walking. it was quite strange and unsettling, as now my thoughts seemed to focus on this stranger and my uncharacteristically generous donation. i knew he would not spend that money on alcohol, i was certain of it, and somewhere deep down i began to look at my life in a perspective which i probably lacked before, i was lucky, i was really lucky because fate had never placed me in a situation where i was reduced to begging, although i had some pretty rough times, i'd found the resources to pull myself out.
devouring my lotus seed cake i now turned onto george street and wandered up into the main throng of sydney at night, masses of people wandering around, many drunk and shouting recklessly at one another, traffic gridlocked and the chaos of friday night hedonism as people moved from one escape looking for another. i was heading towards the night bus service when to my left outside a church i glimpsed another beggar. this one was not praying but he did look at me as i wandered passed him.
i reached into my bag and found some coin, which i tossed his way without stopping, i didn't want to engage him in any way, he said 'thanks brother' and i hurried along, again beset by thoughts about beggars and begging. why would someone beg, what kind of person does it?
perhaps they had been dealt a hard blow, a blow which had made them relinquish everything, god knows i have come close, i really have, maybe they were just mad people in need of medication or perhaps they were just working the system, milking compassion for all they could due to an extremely lazy disposition. they may even return home to plush inner city apartments and drink expensive wine with their dips for all i know. the thoughts circled my head until i realised i needed to get an answer.
i doubled back.
when i came to the second beggar i noticed he was wrapped in blankets, he was smoking a cigarette someone had given him and he seemed to be smiling when i came towards him.
'hi' i said, 'do you remember me?'
'yes you gave me $3 and some change, you didn't stop to hear my words of thanks but i understand, you're in a hurry, the night is late.'
for a beggar he seemed to have quite a good command of english, i mean why wouldn't you. he was educated, spoke very well, i was surprised. 'i'm curious as to how you came to be a beggar, i know it's a strange question but i was wondering if you could tell me. i'd be happy to buy you a coffee while we talk.'
'ah it's very kind of you to offer but i don't partake in hot beverages, i'm more than happy to tell you my tale though, although it may surprise you, a man of your sensitive disposition and status.'
so he began his story and i listened and it was surprising, for he started life as a very wealthy man, heir to a family fortune in the scottish highlands. he had studied with the university and gained three degrees, classical history, philosophy and comparative religion. after his education came to a close he travelled the globe, explored politics and quickly grew tired of it, reverting to religion he went seeking enlightenment in india where he encountered the sadhu or as he translated for me, the good man. he explained it is the path of renunciation, a very holy path associated with hinduism. the sadhu assists burn away mankind's karma and are sometimes valued as powerful and respected individuals who contribute to a community. he confessed a slight discrepancy between the western perception of the sadhu and went on a little tangent concerning his trials and tribulations in sydney but he never lingered on this, returning to his belief that he was on a spiritual path. he said that he had studied in his youth, then married his childhood sweetheart and started a family but left to travel the world, he said he was on the fourth stage of his hindu incarnation. this is a tricky path for the individual must first acquire viragya, which means desire to achieve something by leaving the attachments with family and society and finally the world.
when he realised this was what he needed to do he sought a guru, which he found the very next day. i watched his face light up at the mention of his guru, as if some inner light had been flicked on and shone out. he studied for many many years with his guru finally achieving liberation, he was given a new name and his own mantra and cast into the world as sadhu.
i asked him about the lifestyle and he looked at me quizzically, 'it's not a lifestyle, it's my blessing.'
we spoke for a long time, i had missed my bus but found the conversation so interesting i remained. when it was over i shook his hand, and immediately regretted it, some strange neurotic pathology reacted and i was certain the beggar knew, he said nothing but took his hand away slowly and nodded smiling, he muttered some words, a mantra i guess and i left him wrapped in his blanket, smoking what i thought was a cigarette but was in actual fact a joint.
i was amazed, what an incredible thing to do, become a beggar for spiritual reasons, it was mind blowing. i followed the streets back towards china town, hoping that the first beggar would still be there in his spot, i'd got this idea in my head that i should ask him about his history and more importantly, in reference to his prayer, what kind of god he believed in.
he was there, in his mantis position, staring into space. as i approached i realised he may not take to kindly to me asking him questions, perhaps even react violently, i proceeded with caution.
as i stood near his eyes opened and he gestured to me to sit down with him.
'i'm sorry to interrupt sir, i was here earlier, i gave you some cash.'
'yes i remember you, thank you.'
'i was hoping i could ask you some questions, you seem so, unusual.'
'feel free to ask whatever you wish but i cannot guarantee you will like the answer.'
'well i wondered if you can tell me your story, why you are a beggar, what events led you to this point?'
'ah i understand, you want to know. but have you asked yourself why?'
'no i can't say i have really, just curiosity i think.'
'curiosity.....? no, it's not that,' he said answering his own question. then he said, 'i will tell you.'
and he began to tell me.
'you may look at me and think i am like you, part of this, part of the ocean of humanity but i am not really, i am something different. you may look at me and think my internal mind architecture is similar to yours but it is very different. you may look at me from your perspective and assimilate information based on your observation and experience and it would create a picture about me but it would be vastly misinformed for i am not like you at all. i am an avatar of the thing you call the cosmos, my domain is not here, it is there.'
he looked up into the night skies.
'are you saying your an alien.'
'i am indeed an alien, not human at all.'
i thought that he was a psychiatric patient, that was my first thought, i mean it has to be doesn't it?
'i know you doubt me but this is the truth. i have been here for twelve earth years, living amongst you and watching how you live. you are humanity and i am not. i watch how you struggle and attempt to deal with your place as dominant prime species on your world. it makes me very sad. so i decided to stay here amongst you and help you by restoring your humanity. every act of compassion i receive is restoration. every act of restoration is a victory to consciousness and every victory of consciousness will take me home.'
'how does that work' i interrupted?
he smiled.
'for each little act humans demonstrate by donation or kindness i am able to adjust their karma, eventually i will transmigrate and my spirit join my own race but i have many years left here.'
'so you're saving humanity?'
'i'm saving myself but as a side effect i am saving humanity yes, it's a kinda feedback loop.'
'some would say that you are an angel.'
'yes, i've been called many things.'
'are you here alone, is there others like you.'
'yes, there are many here, all over the world.'
i offered to buy the beggar some food, i said i would withdraw some cash from the atm, he could have hundreds of dollars, i offered him a room at mission control but he declined all, saying he did not want to take anything from me. he bundled up his papers and a jumper and a hat and walked away.
it was the strangest encounter, two individual beggars with two different philosophies but they had the same process to achieve their goals.
i caught the late night bus home, all the way i thought about the beggars and like a strange caterpillar in my head the chrysalis began to form and by the time i returned home it was emerged as a butterfly. i would join the beggars, renounce everything and test humanity to the limit, for i to would be liberated, i to will be freed.
i broke it in a swift single movement, almost like a ballet move, i twirled away and continued walking. it was quite strange and unsettling, as now my thoughts seemed to focus on this stranger and my uncharacteristically generous donation. i knew he would not spend that money on alcohol, i was certain of it, and somewhere deep down i began to look at my life in a perspective which i probably lacked before, i was lucky, i was really lucky because fate had never placed me in a situation where i was reduced to begging, although i had some pretty rough times, i'd found the resources to pull myself out.
devouring my lotus seed cake i now turned onto george street and wandered up into the main throng of sydney at night, masses of people wandering around, many drunk and shouting recklessly at one another, traffic gridlocked and the chaos of friday night hedonism as people moved from one escape looking for another. i was heading towards the night bus service when to my left outside a church i glimpsed another beggar. this one was not praying but he did look at me as i wandered passed him.
i reached into my bag and found some coin, which i tossed his way without stopping, i didn't want to engage him in any way, he said 'thanks brother' and i hurried along, again beset by thoughts about beggars and begging. why would someone beg, what kind of person does it?
perhaps they had been dealt a hard blow, a blow which had made them relinquish everything, god knows i have come close, i really have, maybe they were just mad people in need of medication or perhaps they were just working the system, milking compassion for all they could due to an extremely lazy disposition. they may even return home to plush inner city apartments and drink expensive wine with their dips for all i know. the thoughts circled my head until i realised i needed to get an answer.
i doubled back.
when i came to the second beggar i noticed he was wrapped in blankets, he was smoking a cigarette someone had given him and he seemed to be smiling when i came towards him.
'hi' i said, 'do you remember me?'
'yes you gave me $3 and some change, you didn't stop to hear my words of thanks but i understand, you're in a hurry, the night is late.'
for a beggar he seemed to have quite a good command of english, i mean why wouldn't you. he was educated, spoke very well, i was surprised. 'i'm curious as to how you came to be a beggar, i know it's a strange question but i was wondering if you could tell me. i'd be happy to buy you a coffee while we talk.'
'ah it's very kind of you to offer but i don't partake in hot beverages, i'm more than happy to tell you my tale though, although it may surprise you, a man of your sensitive disposition and status.'
so he began his story and i listened and it was surprising, for he started life as a very wealthy man, heir to a family fortune in the scottish highlands. he had studied with the university and gained three degrees, classical history, philosophy and comparative religion. after his education came to a close he travelled the globe, explored politics and quickly grew tired of it, reverting to religion he went seeking enlightenment in india where he encountered the sadhu or as he translated for me, the good man. he explained it is the path of renunciation, a very holy path associated with hinduism. the sadhu assists burn away mankind's karma and are sometimes valued as powerful and respected individuals who contribute to a community. he confessed a slight discrepancy between the western perception of the sadhu and went on a little tangent concerning his trials and tribulations in sydney but he never lingered on this, returning to his belief that he was on a spiritual path. he said that he had studied in his youth, then married his childhood sweetheart and started a family but left to travel the world, he said he was on the fourth stage of his hindu incarnation. this is a tricky path for the individual must first acquire viragya, which means desire to achieve something by leaving the attachments with family and society and finally the world.
when he realised this was what he needed to do he sought a guru, which he found the very next day. i watched his face light up at the mention of his guru, as if some inner light had been flicked on and shone out. he studied for many many years with his guru finally achieving liberation, he was given a new name and his own mantra and cast into the world as sadhu.
i asked him about the lifestyle and he looked at me quizzically, 'it's not a lifestyle, it's my blessing.'
we spoke for a long time, i had missed my bus but found the conversation so interesting i remained. when it was over i shook his hand, and immediately regretted it, some strange neurotic pathology reacted and i was certain the beggar knew, he said nothing but took his hand away slowly and nodded smiling, he muttered some words, a mantra i guess and i left him wrapped in his blanket, smoking what i thought was a cigarette but was in actual fact a joint.
i was amazed, what an incredible thing to do, become a beggar for spiritual reasons, it was mind blowing. i followed the streets back towards china town, hoping that the first beggar would still be there in his spot, i'd got this idea in my head that i should ask him about his history and more importantly, in reference to his prayer, what kind of god he believed in.
he was there, in his mantis position, staring into space. as i approached i realised he may not take to kindly to me asking him questions, perhaps even react violently, i proceeded with caution.
as i stood near his eyes opened and he gestured to me to sit down with him.
'i'm sorry to interrupt sir, i was here earlier, i gave you some cash.'
'yes i remember you, thank you.'
'i was hoping i could ask you some questions, you seem so, unusual.'
'feel free to ask whatever you wish but i cannot guarantee you will like the answer.'
'well i wondered if you can tell me your story, why you are a beggar, what events led you to this point?'
'ah i understand, you want to know. but have you asked yourself why?'
'no i can't say i have really, just curiosity i think.'
'curiosity.....? no, it's not that,' he said answering his own question. then he said, 'i will tell you.'
and he began to tell me.
'you may look at me and think i am like you, part of this, part of the ocean of humanity but i am not really, i am something different. you may look at me and think my internal mind architecture is similar to yours but it is very different. you may look at me from your perspective and assimilate information based on your observation and experience and it would create a picture about me but it would be vastly misinformed for i am not like you at all. i am an avatar of the thing you call the cosmos, my domain is not here, it is there.'
he looked up into the night skies.
'are you saying your an alien.'
'i am indeed an alien, not human at all.'
i thought that he was a psychiatric patient, that was my first thought, i mean it has to be doesn't it?
'i know you doubt me but this is the truth. i have been here for twelve earth years, living amongst you and watching how you live. you are humanity and i am not. i watch how you struggle and attempt to deal with your place as dominant prime species on your world. it makes me very sad. so i decided to stay here amongst you and help you by restoring your humanity. every act of compassion i receive is restoration. every act of restoration is a victory to consciousness and every victory of consciousness will take me home.'
'how does that work' i interrupted?
he smiled.
'for each little act humans demonstrate by donation or kindness i am able to adjust their karma, eventually i will transmigrate and my spirit join my own race but i have many years left here.'
'so you're saving humanity?'
'i'm saving myself but as a side effect i am saving humanity yes, it's a kinda feedback loop.'
'some would say that you are an angel.'
'yes, i've been called many things.'
'are you here alone, is there others like you.'
'yes, there are many here, all over the world.'
i offered to buy the beggar some food, i said i would withdraw some cash from the atm, he could have hundreds of dollars, i offered him a room at mission control but he declined all, saying he did not want to take anything from me. he bundled up his papers and a jumper and a hat and walked away.
it was the strangest encounter, two individual beggars with two different philosophies but they had the same process to achieve their goals.
i caught the late night bus home, all the way i thought about the beggars and like a strange caterpillar in my head the chrysalis began to form and by the time i returned home it was emerged as a butterfly. i would join the beggars, renounce everything and test humanity to the limit, for i to would be liberated, i to will be freed.
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