Puja Magic

In a puja we honor ourselves archetypal beings by pouring water over murtis (usually metal figures or perhaps a Siva lingham) and throwing rice during the chanting of names or letting rice we've held slip from our hands onto the deity's murti after the priest has finished chanting that diety's sacred names. When we kneel, we kneel to our Selves, mirrored by the deity. As we toss rice or hold it during the chanting, we are asking that the archetypal energies and qualities of that puja's sacred being enter into and develop within us.

Recently, I attended a puja in Beaverton at the Gayatri Temple, where Namadeva and Satyabama, priest and priestess as well as old friends from the Theosophical Society's Far Horizons in the Sierra Nevada, lead pujas. This particular puja was lengthy and somewhat vague in that just whom was being addressed wasn't clear to me. However, as I watched Namadeva chant, my attention popped. On the altar between Namadeva and Satybama, I perceived a seated, three-foot tall (and almost as wide) Kalki/Maitreya, presented as a featureless, pale pearl grey, fat Buddha. He's the happy Buddha who will eventually appear, probably in India, to restore the dharma. You've seen him in figurines, large and small, sometimes with a pack on a stick, sometimes holding his hands over his head, the hands either empty or holding little balls. I've also seen him pictured with a rainbow hovering over his empty hands, making his--and by implication our--realized Buddha-self The Hidden Pot of Gold.

If you really want to see what I saw, find Kalki/Maitreya on the Internet. Imagine that fat, smiling Buddha without his features, his body entirely pearl-grey, and you'll preceive what I saw. A silvery, seated, meditating Buddha.

During the puja the ringing bells may pull us into altered states; the chanted names call in the named archetypal energies. What we may see, feel or hear, provides each individual worshipper answers for his or her own personal growth and path.

Another time I experienced an automatic soul retrieval. I believe that particular puja was for Ganesha. In any case, I had been speaking unawares with a being at some level. Coming out of my trance inwardly, I was rather petulantly saying, "If you want me to do this work, you'll return to me that priest I once was." Whether that was a good request or not, I got what I asked for. The head and shoulders of a rather handsome, dark, bearded, East Indian male in a red beehive cap appeared and rotated clockwise before he disappeared from my inner screen. It seems "the priest I once was" is back, and I'm supposed to do "this work."

While not all pujas "deliver" such dramatic effects, I enjoy the time shared with friends singing, praying, and in fellowship. We conclude socially with snacks and conversation. The puja reminds me of Native American sweat lodges, which may constitute (in brief) my next blog. Like the puja bell, stay tuned.