Coming Home

Coming Home

The words "spiritual teacher" in the brochure caught my attention. He was the guest speaker at

a metaphysical center I attended in the late 1970's. When he walked into the conference room, I saw a gentle man with a round face and wavy shoulder length yellow hair. He'd come to talk about his book, "Coming Home - The Experience of Enlightenment in Spiritual Traditions." The title was scholarly, shedding light on his PhD background in Comparative Religion. His name was Lex Hixon.

At the end of his presentation, the audience rushed to meet him carrying their copies of the book "Coming Home" for him to sign. I watched from my seat as one after another shook hands with him, or engaged in brief conversation. As the swell of people diminished I got up to leave. But something stopped me. Turning around I went back towards him wondering, "Why are you doing this and what do you plan to say to him?" In fact, I had nothing to say, but when I stood in front of him, the words, "You are a friend of my soul" came tumbling out of my mouth. As I heard the strange words I thought to myself, "What are you saying to this stranger?"

He took my hand in his and looked into my eyes. The words I'd just said felt like they were taking form. He said, "I know those words. You too are a friend of my soul." Then he asked, "Would you come to my home in NYC tomorrow?" and I, without knowing this stranger, or what I was agreeing to said, "Yes." He gave me his home address in Riverdale overlooking the Hudson and told me to come at 9 a.m.

Continuing this strange meeting, and completely out of character, I told no one where I was going that Saturday morning. On the drive into NYC I kept asking myself, "Are you crazy - No one knows where you're going - You could be meeting an axe-murderer." Yet I kept going arriving at his high rise apartment off the Henry Hudson Parkway exactly at nine. He greeted me at the door in a Buddhist robe, asked me to remove my shoes, then ushered me into a very sparsely decorated Zen home. He then asked me if I knew why I was there. I said no, but was compelled to come. He asked me if I knew how to meditate. I said yes.

Next, he asked if I knew who Kali was. I didn't at the time. So he took me into another room where a large bronze Kali was sitting on a small table with incense, a candle and an altar cloth. There were no furnishings in that room other than a cushion in front of Kali. He asked me if I had a meditation shawl. I said no. He left the room, returning with a long white shawl with maroon borders. He placed it over my shoulders, lit the candle and incense, and told me to sit with Kali and come out when I felt ready. Then he left.

I sat with Kali for almost two hours. I studied her ferocious face and many arms. I meditated. I
thought about the surreal day I was spending. I meditated some more. Eventually the candle and incense burned down and my legs had grown numb so I got up and came out of the "Kali room." He was nowhere around. So I went into an adjoining room I concluded was his library as it was filled with books on every religious topic. He came in to find me holding a large book, The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna. He said, "Ah, you've found Sri Ramakrishna. You need that book and the Works of Vivekananda." He added, "You should also study The Way of Zen."

We talked a while into mid-afternoon. Then by some unspoken agreement it was time for me to go. I removed the shawl still around my shoulders, folded it, and handed it back to him. He said, "No, that shawl is now yours. I received it from a sage in India and now I give it to you. The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna is also yours to keep." He walked me to the door, bowed to me and we said goodbye.

Though my time with him was only several hours long, he turned out to be one of the greatest catalysts on my journey on the esoteric path. Though when we met I had no idea who he was or how he would later influence me. You see, Lex Hixon was a mystic who immersed himself in the major religions of the world which he called "parallel sacred worlds." He was a disciple of Swami Nikhilananda of the Ramakrishna-Vivekananda Center in NYC, a well known and respected Sufi master. As host of New York City's WBAI In The Spirit, he regularly interviewed the leading spiritual and religious teachers of the 20th century. This gentle unassuming man was also an artist, musician, scholar, and spiritual author.

His last words to me on that Saturday in New Jersey were, "Wherever you are, be at home!" Little did I know that I'd never see him again for Lex died at age 53. I still have the shawl he gave me, along with The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna and The Works of Vivekananda. I read The Way of Zen many times. Each time I fondly remembered that Saturday with Lex Hixon. 

Though I never saw him again, I knew our connection was real when, 35 years later, on a spiritual retreat, my teacher wanted me to memorize The Heart Sutra. He handed me three different translations and told me to choose one. When I got to page two of the translation I'd chosen tears welled up. It had been translated by none other than Lex Hixon. Lex was right when he told me, "Wherever you are, be at home!" In the briefest moment in time, he was the guide who directed me on the path of Coming Home!

                                                                                           Jo Mooy - August 2017  

THE CALLING

The Calling

She was a Rosicrucian and my first spiritual mentor. Her name was Gloria. She introduced

	Rosicrucian Cross

me to meditation, numerology, color and frequency, psychic experiences, rituals and sacred ceremonies. She taught me the importance of remembering and interpreting dreams and how to consciously walk shamanic pathways into alternate realities. And she guided me well in the early days of my spiritual journey.

I remember many of her pronouncements regarding the direction my life would take. She'd lean back in her chair, her eyes would glaze, her voice deepened with a husky edge, and she'd tell me what she saw. Gloria said I would never be rich, but would always be comfortable. She said my job would take me far and support me well. She predicted three extraordinary experiences that would propel me into alternate-realities. One of those experiences where I consciously observed myself entering an immense fluid energy field while driving my car is as vivid today as when it occurred in the 1970's.

However, the most compelling prediction she made and one that stuck in my mind was the major directional change my life would take when I entered my 60's. She saw me teaching the spiritual path to others accompanied by an "equally dedicated spiritual partner." At the time of the prediction I felt she'd made her first mistake. I had no "dedicated spiritual partner" in my life,
and I couldn't conceive of a scenario where I'd be teaching others about the spiritual path, being new to it myself. What I failed to realize was that "The Calling" to do just that had been planted in my being long before she told me when it would flower.

What I've come to know is that The Calling is a journey of spiritual awakening that can come like a bolt out of the heavens or it creeps into your consciousness like a feather falling softly from a pillow. It can arrive at any time in your life as it did when I met Gloria. When you become conscious of it, you know on a deep inner level that your life is going to change in dramatic ways. It's a subtle spiritual force that permeates your being and all you can do is respond to its direction. It influences the books you read, the music you listen to, the TV you watch, and the places you visit. It causes you to seek out teachers who can identify and explain it in ways that soothe your spirit.

It's not an easy path to follow.  It doesn't have to, but many times it shatters your old life patterns, leaving it in tatters. Because you're changing, old friends and even family members will often fall away from your sphere of contacts. They tell you they don't know who you are, or worse, they don't like the person you've become. When you try to explain your new interests or behavior, they want no part of it. Or you. It can be a painful and lonely time. Yet you persevere.


That's when you realize that the "new you" no longer has the same interests that were prevalent in your old life. Everything about you has changed and you want to follow that singular path though you have no idea where it will lead. It's then that the spiritual teacher becomes your best guide. And if the teacher is good, they will direct you to your own inner guide.

Gloria's prediction of "teaching the spiritual path in your sixties" has happened. You said that the material we teach at the women's meditations or retreats had a profound effect on your lives. You said, the practices and exercises caused seismic changes to happen. While old relationships came unglued new ones emerged and ignited. These changes are The Callingsounding from the depths of your being. When you hear it then cross that threshold, only you can pick up the light offered and carry it on. You will do this with a lightness in your heart, and a smile on your face. The awakening of spiritual knowing is the soul's essential quest in living a human incarnation. What a symphony it creates!

                                                                                               Jo Mooy - October 2016   

SHADING THE SUN

Shading the Sun

It's an adage that's taken on mythic importance in spiritual circles. It's a principle in the Hermetic teaches of Hermes Trismegistus, the "Thrice Great" Hermes. The common phrase most of us know is, "When the student is ready, the teacher appears." But the principle in the old treatises reads, "When the ears of the student are ready to hear, then cometh the lips to fill them with Wisdom."

So who are these teachers? Where do they come from? And what do they do for us? They are the teachers great and small, who inspire us. They make us strive for greatness. They encourage us to be the best we can be. They advise us and they guide us. They can be spiritual mentors - our parents - certain friends - a grandmother - a beloved teacher - or even a casual meeting with someone briefly met. Yet, their influence is extraordinary because in some way meeting them changes the course of our lives.

Other than family members, quite often these teachers seem to appear unbidden. They come with the brilliance of the sun, illuminating everything we are and everything we do. Even those who come for just a short time leave a mark that's remembered long after their departure. Some come to derail our assumptions and beliefs, leaving us like a tattered garment. Yet, in all cases WE summoned them.  So how is it then that the student was ready but zealously shades the sun of the teacher?

There's an electric charge when the teacher appears. The student resonates in harmony with the teacher and the teachings. They're drawn like a moth to light. Whatever the teacher says, the student absorbs and makes it her own. The teacher is put on a pedestal shining brilliantly for the student. This goes on for some time until one day the student becomes disillusioned for some perceived slight or misunderstanding. Most times this is due to the "human-ness" of the teacher or the student's belief in their own "self-importance." The student puts up a barrier distancing themselves from the teacher and the teachings and in effect, Shading the Sun. 

The student is seldom mature enough to understand that it's not the teacher's failings  that have caused the distance. Rather the challenges or disappointments the student feels are a direct tool to further their understanding and evolution. Nonetheless, the student goes looking from place to place for another teacher. Eventually, they will find the teacher because it is the law of attraction, of cause and effect, that brings the next teacher forward.

Eventually, after running from place to place, searching for the ideal teacher, the student will realize there is only one teacher. With that maturity she will become the teacher some other student is looking for. The cycle will continue, the student will be ready and the teacher will appear. And the Shade on the Sun will be lifted once more.

 

                                                                                                 Jo Mooy - April 2016   

How Many Marbles

How Many Marbles?

   

Thirty-five years ago I spent three years with an inspiring teacher. She  taught me about life and valuing the time we've been given on earth. She put it into perspective with a remarkable lesson. She said each person was specifically chosen to come to earth during times of great change with a mission to accomplish. The mission could be discovered by turning to a psychic reader, or a course of study might stir the fires of past-life skills needed now.

She advised "doing the work yourself" by seeking answers through meditation, dreams or journaling. She said be mindful of the time you have on earth and know you've been given a limited amount of it. She said each of us had been given a secret number when we departed the spirit world. It was the number of years we have on earth and it related to our destiny and our mission. She said use the time wisely and with purpose. So I asked her "How do we measure our time left and how do we accomplish our mission?"

She'd heard the question from many students before me so had a prepared answer. She asked me a series of questions: "At the beginning of each day do you set an intention to be better than the day before? How do you spend your time and in what pursuits? Do you respond with kindness and compassion to others? What talents or skills do you generously share with others?  Are you frivolous or thoughtful with the hours of each day? Do you treasure each moment that you've been gifted to be here? At the end of each day are you grateful to Spirit?"

Taking a jar filled with marbles from her altar she said each marble represented a year left in her life. When she was younger, the jar was practically full but in the latter part of her seventh decade, there were only 15 marbles in the jar. Rolling them into her hands the visual made a lasting impression. She explained that when she was a young girl in South America her grandmother taught her the magic and medicine of the earth and how to relate to all species. Her grandmother also taught her about the finite number of years given to each person on earth.

To help her remember the teachings, her mission and her lineage, the grandmother placed 85 stones in a pouch. She said each stone represented her grand-daughter's life expectancy.  On each birthday she was to take a stone out of the pouch and deeply reflect on the year just past. What had she done with the year? How did she spend her time? Was it a year making the world a better place? Or was it squandered? She said at first the bag appeared filled with endless stones. But over time, as the stones began to diminish she realized the value of time and how it was being spent.

The questions always cause sober introspection. But the visual of the glass jar of marbles, diminishing with each passing year, is much more indelible. My teacher is gone now, but the lesson of the jar of marbles remains. Her lesson is use the time wisely! You never know how many marbles you really have left! 

Jo Mooy - March 2013