Midnights with the Mystic: A Little Guide to Freedom and Bliss by Simone Cheryl & Sadhguru

Author:Simone, Cheryl & Sadhguru [Simone, Cheryl]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781612831138
Publisher: Hampton Roads Publishing
Published: 2008-05-15T22:00:00+00:00

As I thought about my own perceptions juxtaposed with Sadhguru's penetration of the most profound aspects of life and death, I was compelled to ask him how he attained his clarity of vision. I wanted to know how he got to where he is now. After some time, I asked him to tell me the story of his present lifetime and how he got enlightened. Although I had read parts of the story, I longed to hear it from him.

He began, speaking as if he were talking about something that had occurred just yesterday. I was not surprised. I and others have marveled at his vivid memory, noticing in particular the thousands of people whose names and life details he easily recalls. “I never really was a child in my life,” he began. “When I look back, I can clearly remember all the things that happened around me. I even remember situations that occurred during my infancy. I remember vividly who was in a room, what the room looked like, what was said, and what someone was wearing. My mother used to be stunned when I would describe in detail events and conversations I witnessed when I was three to six months old. Even as a child I was thinking the same way I do now.”

Sadhguru said that as a youngster he had been called “Jaggi,” short for his birth name, “Jagadish.” Many years later he took the name we know him by now. He was a taciturn and yet quite joyful child, he said. Also, he was fiercely independent. He disliked being coddled and walked alone very early, even as his older brother was still being carried in someone's arms. He always seemed much older and wiser than his years and his friends and family members often came to him with their problems. Even his mother would confide in him, and then, realizing what she was doing, would ask, “Why am I telling you all this? You are only a boy.”

Indeed, young Jaggi's loving, perceptive mother was often surprised and conflicted by the boy's words and actions. One such reaction occurred when he was about eleven years old. On this occasion, which he vividly remembers, something prompted his mother to express herself to him in a tender way. This rarely happened in those days, he said, since most Indian mothers were so completely devoted to their children that their love was obvious. Finding words for their love was rare.

After she spoke to him in this way, he responded with what seemed to him a simple, perfectly logical question. “If I had been born in the house next door,” he asked, “would you still feel this same way about me?” She was taken aback. Tears filled his mother's eyes, and she walked away. The inquiry that seemed harmless to him was hurtful to her.

Half an hour later, his mother returned to him, still in tears. Silently, she touched his feet and then went away again. Jaggi realized that he had

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