{"id":39531,"date":"2015-02-06T12:25:16","date_gmt":"2015-02-06T17:25:16","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/horizonsmagazine.com\/blog\/?p=39531"},"modified":"2017-01-31T15:48:46","modified_gmt":"2017-01-31T20:48:46","slug":"a-vision-of-sai-baba-and-amma-in-ihop","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/horizonsmagazine.com\/blog\/a-vision-of-sai-baba-and-amma-in-ihop\/","title":{"rendered":"A vision of Sai Baba and Amma in… IHOP?"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"wheelchair\"<\/a>I woke up hungry this morning, with an appetite for the first time since my head cold began a week ago. My\u00a0pal G\u00a0was already eating breakfast, so I thought of asking Steven Hart<\/a> to join me, since we’ve been trying to connect. His Facebook page didn’t show any activity, so I opted to go alone, not wanting to wake him with an early call. On the way to IHOP two miles away, I see a familiar figure, a somewhat scruffy looking gentleman in a wheelchair, heading east. I saw him last week in the parking lot at Publix near Wendy’s, eating under a tree next to the duck pond. Living near an I-95 exit, I see a lot of homeless in transit. I didn’t think more about it. I went inside and ordered breakfast: a spinach and mushroom omelette with no pancake batter, no cheese and no hollandaise sauce, dry rye toast. As I sat drinking my coffee, he came in and was seated at the table next to me. I got a good look at him. He appeared sun weathered, dirty and dusty from the road.\u00a0 <\/p>\n

He asked the server for breakfast suggestions, telling her he didn’t eat pancakes or toast or fried potatoes. She suggested an omelet and I immediately thought, “if he’s sensitive to gluten, the omelet has pancake batter in it.” He opted for eggs with bacon and said Waffle House gives him a side of tomatoes. The young server seemed confused, so I called across and asked if she could simply substitute sliced tomatoes for his hash browns and toast. He said to her, “Yes, that’s what I want.”<\/p>\n

He told her his hands were dirty from the wheelchair. I asked if she could bring him a wet cloth for his hands and he said, “Yes, please, thank you.” I didn’t feel I was butting in. He had a hard time getting the words out and the server was young and seemed like she didn’t know what he really wanted.<\/p>\n

\"shirdisai\"<\/a>When the server walked away, he turned to face me and suddenly the dirty, scruffy guy in the wheelchair was replaced by the form of Satya Sai Baba<\/a> (Swami)\u00a0 who was smiling and laughing. The entire scene telescoped and it was just he and I. I feel a kundalini rush and was suddenly overcome with wanting to drop to his feet, knowing who He was. I mean, I was aware that I was having an internal vision as I was sitting in an IHOP, surrounded by people who had no idea what was happening. I also knew it didn’t matter if I dropped to my knees at his feet or not, He knew and I knew what was happening.\u00a0 I was overcome with Joy at the private interchange between us. I knew it would go on as long as I held my gaze upon Him. I knew from experience that as soon as I glanced away, the Moment would be gone. And it was.<\/p>\n

I went back to my coffee as he went back to his. A moment later I hear what sounds like a fork dropping to a tile floor. I look up and see he’s got his fork (and there is carpet beneath us, not \"Amma-Devi\"<\/a>tile.) But now he’s turned into the form of Amma, Mata Amritanandamayi,<\/a> The Hugging Saint.\u00a0\u00a0 Again, there is the telescoping of the entire scene into a pinpoint focus and it’s only Amma and I, and she is smiling and laughing. Again I am overcome with the urge to drop to my knees at Her feet and again I realize I am in the middle of the neighborhood IHOP and it would probably draw a lot of attention. The attention is irrevelant, I know this is all about ME and HIM\/HER — God in whatever form.<\/p>\n

I realize this is walking the razor’s edged path, living in both worlds at once. I knew it was irrelevant to Swami and to Amma whether I acknowledged Him\/Her publicly. They knew what was in my heart. They knew that I knew that They knew. Again, I held the gaze as long as possible and then the Moment was once again gone.<\/p>\n

I got up to leave and he half turned to the side and half looked up and again said Thank You. I touched his dirty hand with both of mine and said Thank You back. I paid his bill when I paid mine and asked the server not to tell him who had paid it.<\/p>\n

Like a lover having had a glimpse of The Beloved, I haven’t yet washed my hand. I don’t know if I will.<\/p>\n

RELATED: The Pleasure of Practicing the Presence<\/a><\/p>\n

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