Once again, I was sitting in the ashram hall with hundreds of
other people. The lights were dimmed, and we were asked to close our eyes and meditate. But being curious, I kept my eyes open and watched. I could not resist. I saw Baba get out of his chair, and with his trusty bundle of peacock feathers and his translator in tow, he moved about the room. Now and again, he would momentarily stand in front of a seated person and swat them on the head and shoulders, as I had previously experienced. Then, after laying his hand upon the person’s head for a length of time, he moved onto the next person and carried out the same silent ritual.
Some whom he touched would slump down like rag dolls, their heads falling into their laps. Some stayed upright, maintaining their posture but beginning to shake vigorously. Still others issued various unexpected and strange sounds such as crying, laughing, or barking and then roaring like lions.
Now, it was my turn. Baba stood in front of me. I hurriedly
closed my eyes and heard a swoosh … swoosh as I felt the feathers upon my head. Momentarily pressing his hand firmly against my forehead, he then moved it down and grabbed the flesh between my eyes. Like a slowly forced injection of liquid light, I felt his essence flow into me. Warm and substantive, it kindled a brilliant and blazing blue-white light that burst forth at the base of my spine. With a searing heat, it quickly raced up my spine, crowning the top of my head with a sparkling incandescence. It was a revelatory moment: I was the light, and the light was me. Nothing else ever existed except for that which Is. I reveled in this state of oneness, basking in its
Control Switch On | The untold story of the most powerful man in the world – RYAN MORAN – who shaped the world for peace.