The Quantum Mantra Read online

To understand better the Mantrayana’s practices, Pascal had accepted the invitation after the meeting at the Oriental to check out the Buddhist Mantrayana temple. He wasn’t feeling at ease, listening to a mantra teaching from Kengo, the medium on duty:

  “Chanting mantras connects energy using the vibrations of the body and the mind to resonate with the outside world.” Kengo spoke with great passion. Mantras are not only sounds but have an holographic form which enables the mind to observe the reality from another perspective, as the holographic image does.

  Here in this temple we are training special people we call ‘medium’. They can use trance to communicate with this hologram. We call them mediums because they have reached a platform of consciousness where they become the link between our followers and the spiritual world. An experienced medium can have the ability to communicate with our ancestors who are part of a world of external energy beyond our common-sense reality.”

  “Some of our mediums also have extra lucid abilities and can foresee the future. The mission of an accomplished medium is not to show and use his powers like they do on television shows, but to teach followers to enhance their capabilities and attain the level of medium as well.”

  Turning to Pascal he asked: “Pascal, do you want to try? Your own training can begin now.”

  He passed Pascal a small book.

  “Our bible!” Kengo said with reverence.

  It was difficult for Pascal to accept all that was said, but he waited patiently to experience the training.

  Furiously curious, he found himself seated in a circle upstairs with a group of followers. They were all in deep concentration and chanting together, waiting for mediums to enter and kneel around them.

  Pascal opened the book and read: “No ma ku san manda… Ba sarada a senda…”

  Everyone’s eyes were closed. Pascal fell into his breathing technique to detach himself from the environment, removing the pain the tatami mat was inflicting on his knee. He attempted to remove all thought.

  He listened to the gentle noise of a body sliding across the carpet to sit in front of him. He didn’t open his eyes, but he knew the medium was there.

  A surge of emotion filled his shivering body. Teardrops fell from his eyes and nose. He had no explanation for what was happening to him.

  A woman’s voice began to whisper:

  “You are Pascal, is this correct?”

  Pascal mumbled, “Yes.”

  The voice was moving softly in his direction. Her breathing, however, was short and irregular, as if she had run a marathon.

  “Yes, yes, I can see a fantastic opportunity in an immense field of possibilities. I understand your wish to accomplish big things and you have the potential to do it, but your feet are dragging; the movement is slowed. Action has almost stopped. Pascal, you have let concepts lure your mind and ego. Your own judgment harms your vision, your action and your success. Your knowledge hides the true way.”

  Pascal was trying to control his breathing and blurt out a sob that had been captured inside.

  “Let yourself—your own vital intelligence—talk for you. I can see now an old man with a white beard, a monk very near to your heart. He died ten years ago and now he asks you to open your heart. He says that you must forget the concepts that are limiting your vision, which has no borders. If you open your Third Eye to infinite space, your entire self will disappear and your capacities will explode a thousand times.”

  She added with a trembling voice.

  “Yes, yes I see monks from the past waiting for you. As the messenger, do not deceive them! I see a very beautiful woman attached to you; don’t let her negative energy consume you. She is a predator. “You must not attach your ego to her. She is only the memory of a finished past, and memories are sometimes elusive.”

  Understand the need for distance.”

  In trance, the medium started to speak erratically.

  “That man with a beard must be a close family member who waits for your spiritual help! I feel his despair to see you hesitant. Listen to him; pray for him.”

  Her voice was dying, as though expressing a final effort to remain with the spiritual world.

  “You are the one. You are the leader. You must be strong and forget yourself. Pray with compassion for that family member and all the forgotten people who need you. Your compassion will bring you the higher consciousness: this is the way to accomplish your mission.”

  The gentle flap of her dress was heard as she moved away.

  Still overwhelmed with emotion, he opened his eyes. The medium had gone. He sat there feeling empty yet somehow full; contented yet anxious; his energy drained, but ready to surge.

  He had felt himself collapse and he attempted to piece himself back together, tasting the salty tears that had nestled on his lip.

  His mind had switched back on, back to this conscious place. Like the uncertainty placed before us by the discoveries of quantum physics, his rational mind was swaying like a pendulum. How could she know what he had hidden for years: his profound love for his uncle August, a Dominican monk who died in a terrible accident?

  The Medium was right for sure; he had a lot of work to do to open himself to the real world; the world of infinite consciousness. Then he would understand everything clearly.

  Nothing is rock solid; we are spirits in the community of the entire spiritual world.

  When he returned to the lobby his friends were waiting for him to comment.

  “Yes Sumit, I even saw a ghost, a ‘PI’, but don’t worry; he was very friendly. He even looked a little bit like you.”

  Sumit’s face turned the lightest shade of pale. Ghosts petrified the Thai people. Pascal smiled kindly at him, and with the recognition of the joke, Sumit slapped him across the shoulder, laughing.

  The enthusiastic Kengo came running towards them, slightly breathless.

  “I heard your medium was my sister, Mayumi.”

  “Ah, really?”

  “Yes and she is extraordinary, as you could see for yourself. She is one of our best mediums. She has a very interesting perspective because she is a scientist—a neurologist in fact.”

  As Mayumi approached from behind, Pascal stood absolutely still, in total shock. It was not possible. He was so confused.

  The woman coming to him was coming from his dream. Her high cheeks and rounded face elegantly sheltered those wide, almond eyes as she walked even closer towards them. She immediately inspired him deeply. The intensity of her glaze kept him numb. He recognised her face instantly, but found it impossible to accept the similarity.

  “I hope this quick initiation will open your view on the possibilities of our practice!” said Kengo, unaware of Pascal’s state of mind.

  The tall young woman had her hand outstretched.

  “Mayumi, my sister,” Kengo said briefly.

  Pascal slid his fingers into the palm of her tender hand and shook it softly. He tried to retain eye contact, but only had time for a glance into her copper-colored eyes.

  “Sorry Pascal, we cannot introduce you properly. The master is expecting us,” said Kengo.

  “Please let your friends escort you with the statue you received this morning. It is our treasure. As we already discussed, we hope you can use your concentration on this image to travel to its origin. Pichai and Sumit are waiting for you outside. Let us know what you can do.”

  SEASON 2: ENTANGLED WITH THE COLLECTIVE MEMORY.

  “The return to the roots is peace.

  To accept what must be is the way!”

  Lao Tzu