that mysterious

that mysterious

something that puts together

syllables and words

Mahasaraswati Day, Day of Total Knowledge. It's late January. In the early morning I creep into town on black ice to listen to a lady talk about Mahasaraswati, goddess of knowledge, science, arts and music. She says, "Maha means great, sara means pure silence of a still lake, swa means the Self, and ti means the dynamism of silence. Mahasaraswati is silence in motion, the flow of total knowledge."
          As she speaks I picture the painting of Mahasaraswati propped on a bookcase in my study, a spirit painting made by Mangku Liyer, a Balinese shaman-priest. Memory takes me back to the summer of 2001. I have just arrived in Bali, visiting my friend Robin Lim, and she takes me to an odalan celebrating the birthday of a temple in Nyuh Kuning, where Mangku Liyer is performing some of the ceremonies. Robin introduces me as a "mantra meditator" and he immediately invites me to visit him. 
          Some days later Robin takes me with her to his home in Ubud. She wants him to make a charm to protect her from a black witch. Mangku Liyer is sitting cross-legged on a mat outside his room. He is a tiny man with a big grin that reveals some missing teeth. After we visit for awhile, he shows me his spirit paintings. He says the images come to him in a vision and they have great spiritual powers.
          I am immediately drawn to one of Mahasaraswati. Unlike the Indian depictions I have seen of her wearing a white sari, she is dressed in Balinese temple attire and her peacock looks more like a turkey, but she has that same serene smile. I tell him that I write and paint, and he says it would be good for me to have this painting. Then he shows me another painting he thinks will help in my meditation practice. It is a strange figure of a man. After I gaze at it for a few moments, he asks me what I feel about it. 
          "The man has four legs," I reply, "so he is well grounded. His hands are pressed together in anjuli mudra, so he is full of devotion. His eyes are in his chest, so he sees with his heart, rather than his head. He has three flames in place of a head, representing the knower, the process of knowing and the known. His crown chakra is very well developed, and his physical body is surrounded by a wide aura of subtle energy."
          "Exactly," Mangku Liyer says, with an even bigger grin. He says the money for the paintings will allow his granddaughter to finish school, which makes me happy to know that the goddess of total knowledge is taking care of this girl's education. Mankgu Liyer arranges to have the paintings framed in carved wood and delivered to me in a cardboard case for carrying on the airplane, something I would never be allowed to do a few months later.
          Now the two paintings reside side by side in my home, their presence a reminder that the deepest knowledge comes from that silent place within.