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Between Master and Disciples

The Power of Love: A Master's Sacrifice, Part 2 of 5, Dec 16, 2018

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So, he told the king, “Your Majesty, I have found one gray hair on your head.” And the king said, “Pluck it out and give it to me.” And the barber took the hair out. Ouch! And put it on the palm of the king. The king looked at it and he was trembling all over because he knew time flies so fast and he was getting older now.

I want to tell you a story of the Buddha’s reincarnation a long time ago, long, long, long, long, time ago. You know that, right? Two thousand six hundred something or seven hundred years ago, when the Buddha last appeared on Earth.

Anybody who’s still crying, borrow a tissue? You have it? (I’ve got some.) You have some. Boys don’t cry, they said. (No, I did not.) Big boys don’t cry. You look big and you’re a boy, you cry? (Yes.) It’s good, love.

We do anything here. We laugh, we cry, we roll around, we make trouble. We do anything that other so-called practitioner groups don’t ever do. Most Masters, They don’t go out and touch your hand, your head or hurrah with you. I just do whatever I feel like at that moment, when that group of people needs that. But it becomes like a habit; it’s a problem. Then other people expect it, that’s the thing. Everything spontaneous, it’s good. Everything that is expected and a forced issue, no good result or very minimal, no good.

Last week the kitchen cooked me something and I invited some westerners; don’t expect that again. I’m just saying that. How come today there are more westerners than last week? You watch the news, Supreme Master Television News, Master treats the westerners to something. OK, no, of course, I will invite you, don’t worry. Today I asked them to cook something more, so that we can come up and eat together, because on Sundays I have no food.

Last time, I was just joking. I said, “Sunday I work the most and they don’t give me food,” and they took it seriously. And they wrote me a letter, asking, “Can we cook for You every Sunday now? Simple food only, no problem.” And I was just joking. Even if they don’t cook for me, there’re always (vegan) instant noodles which I always have because I know my life is never regular. Some days I have food, some days they forget, or something happens, or I have to go. I always have some instant noodles and there’s always, something like (vegan) powdered soup, because the doctor told me I cannot eat the brown rice sesame anymore, thank you very much. After I told you, I can’t eat that anymore, somehow. He said, it’s too nutritious or something, too much iron for me. And they took the blood test and they told me what I should not eat, what I should eat. According to them, I can’t eat much. And then I have to take medicine, eight times a day; every two hours the alarm rings, so I just threw them all out.

By the way, I can’t even take medicine. That is the problem, because Heaven warned me, “If You continue to take this medicine…” Because I take medicine, nothing works; it just makes more trouble, more nerve wrenching, somehow. But with the timing, I don’t have enough time to keep following every one, two hours; the alarm rings to take medicine and then you have to cook or you have to prepare something with it. So, I just threw it out.

But before that, Heaven warned me, said “If You continue to take this medicine, the maya will mix poison in it,” poisonous energy, “and then You will be nerves wrecked,” something like that. Even just sick, I can’t take medicine. It’s just like, OK, I’m breathtakingly taking my medicine, I still cannot. So, I just don’t take it anymore and I’m still alive, thank God. Because if I take medicine, it’s no good anyway.

So, I just didn’t take it for a long time and the doctor keeps writing me, saying, “Please, we calculated that this medicine is out already, can I send it? I don’t have to see You, I’ll just send it.” Because he thinks I don’t want to see him. It’s not like that. He’s a good doctor and very caring, like a father. How would I not want to see him? It’s just I cannot. But I haven’t even got time to call him, to tell him that yet. You see, I cannot explain and say I don’t have time to explain now. I send a message through some staff, distant staff; they’re not working next to me. Working together, but nowadays you don’t have to be next to each other. They can do USB and then I check, and then I call them or write or whatever. It’s easier like that.

Why would I tell you something like that? What was it before? Anybody listened? (Buddha story.) Ahh, Buddha story, my God! It’s always about me, me, me. Aiyai, how boring! (Not boring.) I hope you get bored one day, so I can retire. (Never.) No? (No!) No retirement? (No.) I’m over 65. In Europe, now they raised the maximum retirement to 65; before, it was 60. I’m over that even, and I still have to work, and Sunday, no food. I was only joking, just like, oh you see, the world is not fair, you know what I mean, just a kind of talking. Just like, I say any nonsense thing to you, just to amuse you and keep you on your seat. So you don’t run outside buying stuff, saving your money. That’s what. But they took it seriously. If I was really serious, I would have been dead by now, because there are many Sundays passed already. It’s not the first Sunday ever.

Are you OK? You, you’re cold? Just wear it in. (It’s OK.) Wear it. OK, all right. By the way, I feel a little… My knees, nothing else. Everything else I’m all equipped, inside out. You know, we women.

OK, a long, long time ago, Shakyamuni Buddha Himself had reincarnated as a king, in a very powerful, prosperous kingdom and He lived eighty-four thousand years. Eighty-four thousand years ruling his kingdom in all prosperous manner and enjoying all types of privilege and happiness and material comforts as befits a king.

Are you all right love? Just stretch it out, I don’t care. You want to sit up here? Higher a little bit, (No, I’m OK, Master.) so your legs are all right? (I’m OK, thank You.)

No, because somebody has some problem if they sit too long, the knees or their legs are a problem, especially westerners. That’s why I let you sit up here, so maybe you can have a little more room. Long legs also have problems. See, that’s why I was born with short legs. Everything short, except, long brain, long talk. But if you’d known me before I became a so-called Master, you would not recognize me there. I don’t recognize myself. I hardly said anything before. Even people scolded me, or jealous or saying bad things to me, I didn’t know how to answer. I just kept quiet. Everybody who knew me in India when I was in some ashram, they would know your Master was very, very quiet. And now, I’m the opposite. I talk no end because you like it. Actually, this is the thing, being a Master. Somebody wants something good, you must give, mostly.

There was that King. His name was Makhadeva. He ruled his kingdom already 84,000 years. Wow, imagine you live that long? I wonder if they had dentists in those days? Yeah, or the teeth keep growing back? No, no, I’m not joking. There are some instances; there was a book written, about many people who lived long and some of them had grown the third time teeth. I wonder if it’s possible. When I lose my teeth, can I have them without having to go to the dentist? Actually, I hope I do because I don’t have time to go to the dentist. Every time, my staff, they send a letter, and say Master, who’s going to dentist, who’s going to check her ears, and nose and… I mean eyes and I thought, “Oh my God, I wish I could go and check also.” But I can’t, it’s truly like that. And even outsider people ask me to help, do this, do that as well, they think I have 84,000 arms. Anyway, he must have had a very, very comfortable life.

So sorry if I don’t always look at you. I forget, OK? I forget, oh, so many sit everywhere.

He must have had a very comfortable and blissful type of existence, otherwise, who would like to live 84,000 years? My life, no. I don’t want to live 84,000 years. I’ll live as much as a normal human life or a little bit above, OK, but not 84,000 years, to do what? Sunday, no food, and have to work extra, have to work double. Can’t go to the dentist, can’t go for nose, ears, eye doctor. What? I don’t mind.

Actually, I don’t mind. It’s just the mental torture sometimes is worse than the physical. You just have to laugh at it sometimes. I do know why. And that is a good thing. At least, I know why. I know it’s all my fault. I took on this job. Took on the world even. Taking on this job is already good enough, hardship enough.

Did you ever hear any Master feel very happy and laughing all day because He’s a Master? You saw all the Masters’ photos, do They really laugh so loud? Or big (smile) from ear to ear? No. You see all the Masters’ photos, including Buddha, is He smiling on the photo? Nothing, right? I saw many Indian Masters, none of Them laughing, smiling. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

But I am laughing. I don’t know, I probably am a laughing Buddha, if I’m a Buddha at all. (Yes, You are.) I am? (You are.) Thank you for anointing me. So, I’m a Buddha, sort of. All right. Who cares?

If I’m a Buddha at all, I’m really a very hardworking Buddha. Every minute, every second working. No, not me again? My God! What a boring guy; 84,000 years he ruled his kingdom. I cannot just give no example. Understand me? A living example, not a living Master, but living example. Combined, weaving together, otherwise, you don’t understand.

84,000 years he ruled his kingdom, magnificently. Must have had a lot of merits in the front, surely he had. Of course, after he offered his eyes, his body, his limbs to all sentient beings, life after life, and doing many good deeds, how would he not have merits to enjoy a kingdom?

One day, he was walking outside in his beautiful garden. He saw some leaf falling, maybe on his head and then he checked it, and then he remembered the ephemeral nature of all lives, including his life. So, that day, when his barber cut his hair, he told him, “My dear barber, if you ever see my hair go gray, you must tell me.” So, after some time, the barber found one among his black, beautiful, lustrous hair, there was one single gray hair that popped out. Whoa. So, he told the king, “Your Majesty, I have found one gray hair on your head.” And the king said, “Pluck it out and give it to me.” And the barber took the hair out. Ouch! And put it on the palm of the king. The king looked at it and he was trembling all over because he knew time flies so fast and he was getting older now. After 84,000 years, I would think he would know. But no, he did not! He must wait for this hair to fall on his hand then he realized.

He must have had a blissful, happy life every day. Or he must have been so bleeping busy like me, that he did not know time passed.

Truly, yesterday I wrote a reply to a Philippine friend, Mrs. Cecile Alvarez, the wife of Senator Alvarez of the Philippines. I just support her organization to help the children, the needy children. I did not know she had. She was so humble, she never told me. I thought she was just working for the President, the government. I did help some before, but I didn’t know she had one. And her organization won awards, twice from the United Nations. I didn’t even know anything. She’s a very humble person. She doesn’t talk a lot. So, she wrote me a thank-you letter, and all that and asked me to go to (the) Philippines when she programs something for the children and for the Philippines there.

I really feel very, very kind of regretful because time has passed so quickly since I last saw her. Must be maybe 10 years ago when they were here, the Philippines VIP. My God, and I haven’t even said “hallo,” “goodbye,” nothing to them. And then of course, the President, the former President Ramos, came a few times but I haven’t even had a chance to see him personally. I was in Europe somewhere. And of course, he didn’t have to report to me when he came, when he went. Security reasons also. But we did give him good treatment, like VIP treatment when he came, the Association members, without Master. That you can. Anything to do with me, it becomes like a difficult task. Anything to do with anybody else is very smooth, very convenient, very comfortably carried out. So, I wrote...

(There’s something on Your microphone.) Something on my microphone? Oh! This is a little friend. He wants to talk for me or something? You want to take up my post? You can’t even talk. OK, let’s go out, before they harm you in some way. If you fall down, people might not see you and might step on you. Put him on a tree, on a plant. Put him on a tree, so he has food to eat. I said, put him on the plant somewhere, so he can eat the leaves. It’s a little baby. How did he make it all the way here? It’s a very tiny one.

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