Chapter 1. The Path to Breaking Free
Returning from Death, Dalai Lama’s State Oracle, Life on Atlantis, Rebirth of the Copper Trade, Twin Souls, Childhood Trauma
Mein Host Timothy’s second-life began when he returned from the dead that rainy November afternoon in 1973 -- although he wouldn’t really understand this until he was more fully disentangled from the imbroglio which he had created for himself.
His disappointment at hearing nothing back from Mary Ann about his Near-Death Experience had created the first tiny crack in his conviction that she was the incarnate Goddess. But he quickly repressed the thought. He clearly didn’t want to believe she might have been playing him for a fool all along. I could see it in his emotional body how firmly he pushed down his moments of doubt.
Besides, he had his work to distract him.
The New York Chapter of The Process Church on Manhattan’s First Avenue -- now The Foundation Faith of the Millennium -- was becoming progressively busier as public interest in the New Consciousness movement brought in a wider set of people.
It had been under my ward’s leadership that the Chapter had moved toward solvency and I could see my ward thought he needed to play the game out. I don’t believe it ever came to him to leave the community at that point. Whenever I have heard him subsequently speak about it, he has always said that life in the Chapter was “terrifically stimulating and challenging,” and he was “enjoying it far too much to leave.”
I’ve come to think in retrospect that Mein Host was in a position of leadership in which he simply couldn’t live with himself were he to let everyone down. If he gave any thought to the idea of leaving the community -- and escaping the clutches of his dark Goddess -- he must have known that such a situation would have to be very carefully crafted.
Yet I saw no sign this thought had ever crossed his mind as he settled back into his regular everyday life.
Besides, his mind was filled with other matters; Tibetan Buddhism being only one of them.
Mein Host was no expert on Tibetan Buddhism but -- unlike many Westerners -- he had at least read The Tibetan Book of the Dead as a result of his entheogenic explorations in the early 1960s. Having joined the community in 1965 and choosing to set aside entheogens, I doubt if he’d given any further thought to Buddhism until the afternoon two small, elderly Tibetan monks and their translator sat in front of him in his office.
What occurred then has continued to puzzle him, so I hope my view of that encounter will illuminate what has long concerned him.
There had been no warning, no phone call, no appointment; just Sister Marion knocking at his office door and asking him if he had the time to meet with “a couple of very odd-looking little brown men in skirts.”
After being introduced by the translator as monks Nechung Rinpoche and the slightly older Drepung Rinpoche, the pair in their saffron and brown robes sat down, both on the edge of their chairs with their backs rigidly straight, and their nutbrown, oval faces sweetly impassive.
It was Nechung Rinpoche who did the talking. He spoke through their translator, who was standing slightly behind and between them. The Rinpoche explained that he was the senior monk of the Nechung monastery, and among his responsibilities was the care of the Dalai Lama’s State Oracle.
My ward leaned forward with interest when he heard about the State Oracle. I don’t believe he knew about this mediumistic practice descending from the pre-Buddhist Bön shamanism. And he certainly wouldn’t have known -- if indeed the monks even knew -- that Bön shamanism itself was descended from a tradition brought to Tibet in one of the Lemurian diasporas between forty and fifty thousand years ago.
The Nechung Rinpoche went on to explain the State Oracle was always consulted by the Dalai Lama before any important decisions were taken, and it was the result of one of these psychic consultations that had brought them to his office.
I saw a mixture of interest and confusion on my ward’s face. I could feel he liked these men. He was at ease with them and when I looked at his emotional body I could see how it was harmonizing with those of the two monks.
The Rinpoche went on to explain that the Oracular consultation in question had concerned ways of introducing Tibetan Buddhism to the West.
I noticed the Drepung Rinpoche tilt forward slightly at this point, his left hand gripping the edge of the desk, his skin like tanned leather stretched thin over skeletal knuckles. The Nechung Rimpoche had paused and I could feel something unspoken pass between the two monks before he continued.
Here it comes, I thought.
It was in the course of this consultation with the State Oracle, the Rinpoche continued, that Mein Host’s name had been pronounced by the Oracle as a person who would be helpful to their cause. Would he therefore help them?
This wasn’t the kind of request that came in everyday and my ward has since said he would have probably helped them without any prompting from the State Oracle.
Although they didn’t share a common language they seemed to have a natural and unspoken resonance with my ward. More than once I caught the three of them giggling away at some shared unspoken joke. He said afterwards one of the characteristics he loved was the old monks’ humor.
It was a perfect match. The Foundation had the facilities, the Tibetan Buddhists had the message and the intention, and New York was ready for what they had to say. This combination led to two extremely successful conferences -- as well as a series of seminars -- delivered by these two eminent Buddhist monks. My ward wasn’t to discover just how eminent they both were until many years later.