“I want also to tell you, Lobsang, that every person has a basic frequency of vibration, that is, every person’s molecules vibrate at a certain rate and the wavelength generated by a person’s brain can fall into special groups. No two persons have the same wavelength – not the same wavelength identical in every respect, but when two people are near the same wavelength, or when their wavelength follows certain octaves of the other, then they are said to be compatible and they usually get on very well together.” I looked at him and wondered about some of our highly temperamental artists. “Honourabie Lama, is it true that some of the artists vibrate at a higher rate than others?” I enquired. “Most certainly it is, Lobsang,” said my Guide, “if a man is to have what is known as inspiration, if he is to be a good artist, then his frequency of vibrations must be many times higher than normal. Sometimes it makes him irritable – difficult to get on with. Being of a higher rate of vibration than most of us he tends to look down on us lesser mortals. However, often the work that he turns out is so good that we can put up with his slight fads and fancies!”
I imagined this great keyboard stretching for several miles, and it did seem to me a strange thing if, in a keyboard stretching several miles, the human range of experiences would be limited only to about three notes, and I said so. “The human being, Lobsang, likes to think that he is the only thing in creation that is important, you know. Actually there are many many other forms of life besides humans. On other planets there are forms of life, which are utterly alien to humans, and the average human could not even begin to understand such a form of life. On our mythical keyboard the inhabitants of a planet far, far removed from this particular Universe – would be right away at a different end of the keyboard from that of the humans.
Again, people on the astral planes of existence would be higher up the keyboard, for a ghost who can walk through a wall is of such a tenuous (spinkel) nature that his own rate of vibrations would be high indeed although his molecular content would be low.” He looked at me and laughed at my puzzled expression, and then explained: “Well, you see, a ghost can pass through a stone wall because a stone wall consists of molecules in vibration. There are spaces between every molecule, and if you can get a creature with molecules so small that they can fit between the spaces of a stone wall, then that particular creature would be able to walk through a stone wall with no obstruction whatever. Of course, the astral creatures have a very high rate of vibration, and they are of a tenuous nature, that is, they are not solid, which in its turn means that they have few molecules. Most people imagine that the space beyond our earth – beyond the edge of the air above us – is empty. That is not so, space has molecules throughout. They are mostly hydrogen molecules which are widely dispersed, but the molecules are there and they can indeed be measured in much the same way as can the presence of a so-called ghost be measured.”
The Temple conches sounded, calling us once again to our Services. “We will talk about this again tomorrow, Lobsang, because I want you to be very clear on this subject,” said my Guide as we parted at the entrance to the Temple.
The ending of the Temple Service was the start of a race – a race to get food. We were all rather hungry for our own food supplies were exhausted. This was the day when a new supply of freshly roasted barley was available. In Tibet all monks carry a small leather pouch of barley which has been roasted and ground and which, by the addition of buttered tea, becomes tsampa. So we raced on, and soon joined the throng waiting to have their bags filled, then we went to the Hall where tea was available so that we could have our evening meal.
The stuff was terrible. I chewed at my tsampa and wondered if my stomach was wrong. There was a horrible, oily burnt taste to it, and I really did not know how I was going to get it down. “Faugh!” muttered the boy next to me, “this stuff has been burnt to a frazzle, none of us will be able to cram it down!” “It seems to me that everything has been spoiled in this lot of food!” I said. I tried a bit more, screwing up my face in anxious concentration – wondering how I was going to cram it down. In Tibet to waste such food is a great offence (forseelse). I looked about me, and saw that others were looking about them! The tsampa was bad, there was no doubt about that. Everywhere bowls were being put down and that was a very rare occurrence in our community where everyone was always just on the point of hunger. I hastily swallowed the tsampa in my mouth, and something very strange about it hit me with unexpected force in the stomach. Hastily scrambling to my feet, and apprehensively holding my mouth with my hand, I bolted for the door…!
“Well! Young man,” said a strangely accented voice as I turned back toward the door after having violently erupted the disturbing food. I turned and saw Kenji Tekeuchi, the Japanese monk who had been everywhere, seen everything, and done everything, and was now paying for it by way of periodic bouts of mental instability. He looked sympathetically at me, “Vile (gyselig) stuff, isn’t it?” he remarked sympathetically, “I had the same difficulty as you and I came out here for the same reason. We shall have to see what happens. I am staying out for a few moments hoping that the fresh air will blow away some of the miasma which this bad food has caused.” “Sir!” I said diffidently, “you have been everywhere, and will you tell me why here in Tibet we have such dreadfully monotonous fare(ensidig kost)? I am sick to death of tsampa and tea, and tea and tsampa, and tsampa and tea. Sometimes I can hardly cram the muck down.”
The Japanese looked at me with great understanding and even greater sympathy. “Ah! So you ask me because I have tasted so many different kinds of food? Yes, and so I have. I have travelled extensively throughout the whole of my life. I have had food in England, Germany, Russia – almost everywhere that you can mention. In spite of my priestly vows I have lived well, or at least I thought so at the time, but now my dereliction from my vows has brought me to grief.” He looked at me and then seemed to jerk to life again. “Oh! Yes! You ask why you have such monotonous fare, I will tell you. People in the West eat too much, and they have too great a variety of food, the digestive organs work on an involuntary (ufrivillig) basis, that is, they are not controlled by the voluntary part of the brain. As we teach, if the brain through the eyes has an opportunity of assessing the type of food, which is going to be consumed, then the stomach can release the necessary quantity and concentration of gastric juices in order to deal with the food. If, on the other hand, everything is crammed down indiscriminately, and the consumer is busily engaged in idle talk all the time, then the juices are not prepared, digestion cannot be accomplished, and the poor wretch suffers from indigestion (dårlig fordøyelse) and later, perhaps, from gastric ulcers(sår). You want to know why your food is plain? Well! The plainer and, within reason, the more monotonous the food one consumes – the better it is for the development of the psychic parts of the body. I was a great student of the Occult, I had great powers of clairvoyance, and then I stuffed myself with all sorts of incredible concoctions (brygg/drikker)and even more incredible drinks. I lost all my metaphysical powers, so that now I have come here to the Chakpori so that I may be attended(påpasses), so that I may have a place where I can rest my weary body before leaving this earth. And when I have left this earth in just a few short months from now, the body breakers will do the job – will complete the task – which an indiscriminate admixture (vilkårlig tilsetning)of drinks and food started.” He looked at me and then gave one of those queer jumps again, and said, “Oh yes, my boy! You take my advice, you stick to plain food for all the days of your life and you will never lose your powers. Go against my advice and cram everything you can down your hungry gullet, and you will lose everything, and your gain? Well, my boy, you will gain indigestion; you will gain gastric ulcers together with a bad temper. Oh ho! I am going off, I can feel another attack coming.”
The Japanese monk, Kenji Tekeuchi rose shakily to his feet and tottered off in the direction of the Lamas’ Quarters. I looked after him and shook my head sadly. I should very much have liked to have been able to talk to him much longer. What sort of foods were they? Did they taste good? Then I pulled myself up with a jerk; why tantalise (plage) myself when all I had before me, was rancid (harsk) buttered tea and tsampa which had been really burned so much that it was a charred (forkullet) mass, and in some way some strange oily compound had got into it. I shook my head and walked again into the Hall.
Later in the evening I was talking to my Guide, the Lama Mingyar Dondup. “Honourable Lama, why do people buy horoscopes from the pedlars (dørselger) down on The Way?” My Guide smiled sadly as he replied, “Of course, as you know, there cannot be any worthwhile horoscope unless it is individually prepared for the person to whom it is alleged to refer. No horoscope can be prepared on a mass production basis. The horoscopes sold by the pedlars on The Road below are merely so that they can get money from the credulous.” He looked at me and said, “Of course, Lopsang, the pilgrims who have these horoscopes go back home and show they have a memento from the Potala! They are satisfied and so is the pedlar so why bother about them? Everyone is satisfied.” “Do you think people should have horoscopes prepared for them?” I asked. “Not really, Lobsang, not really. Only in certain cases such as your own case. Too often horoscopes are merely used to save a person the effort of adopting a course of action upon his own responsibility. I am very much against the use of astrology or horoscopes unless there is a definite, specific reason for it. As you know, the average person is like a pilgrim threading his way through the City of Lhasa. He cannot see the road ahead for the trees and the houses and the bends and curves in the road. He has to be prepared for whatever is coming. We here can look down upon the road and see any obstructions for we are at a higher elevation.
The pilgrim, then, is like a person with no horoscope. We being higher in the air than the pilgrim are like people with the horoscope, for we can see the road ahead, we can see obstacles and difficulties, and thus should be in a position to overcome difficulties before they really occur.”
“There is another thing which is troubling me greatly, Honourable Lama. Can you tell me how it is that we know things in this life that we knew in the past?” I looked at him most anxiously for I was always rather afraid of asking such questions as really I had no right to be delving (grave) so deeply into matters, but he took no offence (foreseelse), instead he replied, “Before we came to this earth, Lobsang, we mapped out what we intended to do. The knowledge was stored in our sub-conscious and if we could get in touch with our sub-conscious – as some of us can! – then we should know everything that we had planned. Of course, if we should know everything that we had planned, there would be no merit (fortjeneste) in striving to better ourselves – because we would know that we were working along a predetermined plan. For some reasons, sometimes a person will go to sleep or will get out of the body while conscious, and will get in touch with his Overself. Sometimes the Overself will be able to bring up knowledge from the subconscious and transfer it back to the body on earth, so that when the astral body returns to the flesh body – there is knowledge in the mind of certain things that happened in a past life. It may be as a special warning not to commit a mistake, which may have been committed for life after life. Sometimes a person has a great desire to commit suicide – as just one example – and if a person has been penalised (straffet) life after life for doing that, then frequently they will have a memory of something about self-destruction in the hope that such a memory will cause the body to refrain (avholde-) from self-destruction.”
I pondered upon all this and then I walked to the window and looked out. Just below there was the fresh green of the swampy area and the beautiful green of the leaves of the willow trees. My Guide broke into my reverie. “You like looking out of this window, Lobsang, does it occur to you that you look out so frequently because you find the green so soothing to your eyes?” As I thought about it, I realised that I did instinctively see green after I had been working at my (school)books. “Green, Lobsang, is the most restful colour for the eyes. It gives ease to tired eyes. When you go to the Western world you will find that in some of their theatres there is a place called the green room where actors and actresses go to rest their eyes after having been subjected to smoke-filled stages and bright glaring (skarpe-) footlights and floodlights.” I opened my eyes in amazement at this, and I decided that I would pursue (forfølge) this matter of colours whenever the opportunity presented itself. My Guide said, “I have to leave you now, Lobsang, but tomorrow come to me again because I am going to teach you some other things.” He rose to his feet, patted me on the shoulder, and went out. For some time I stood looking out of the window looking out at the green of the swamp grass and the trees which were so restful to the eyes….
Some of Rampas books can still be purchased from webshops – but the prices varies – so look at many and compare.
Link to Source page
