Indra, the carpenter, Brahma, Visnu, the beautiful blue black boy and a crotchety old yogi named Hairy mix it up causing pain to Indrani

There is a wonderful story in one of the Upanishads about the god Indra.

It happened at this time that a great monster had enclosed all the waters of the Earth, so there was a terrible drought, and the Earth was in a very bad condition. It took Indra quite a while to realize that he had a box of thunderbolts and that all he had to do was drop a thunderbolt on the monster and blow him up. When he did that, the waters flowed, and the Earth was refreshed, and Indra said, "What a great boy am I."

So, thinking, "What a great boy am I," Indra goes up to the cosmic mountain, which is the central mountain of the Earth, and decides to build a palace worthy of Indra. The main carpenter of the gods goes to work on it, and in very quick order he gets the palace into pretty good condition.

Every time Indra comes to inspect it, he has bigger ideas about how splendid and grandiose the palace should be. Finally, the carpenter says, "We are both immortal, and there is no end to his desires. I am caught for eternity." So he decides to go to Brahma, the creator god, and complain.

Brahma sits on a lotus, the symbol of divine energy and divine grace. The lotus grows from the navel of Vishnu, who is the sleeping god, whose dream is the Creation. So the carpenter comes to the edge of the great lotus pond of Creation and tells his story to Brahma. Brahma, "You go home. I will fix this up."

Brahma gets off his lotus and kneels down to address sleeping Vishnu. Vishnu just makes a gesture and says something like, "Listen, fly, something is going to happen. "

Next morning, at the gate of the palace that is being built, there appears a beautiful blue black boy with a lot of children around him, just admiring his beauty. The porter at the gate of the new palace goes running to Indra, and Indra says, "Well, bring in the beautiful blue black boy." The beautiful blue black boy is brought in, and Indra, the king god, sitting on his throne, says, "Young boy, welcome. And what brings you to my palace?"

"Well," says the beautiful blue black boy with a voice like thunder rolling on the horizon, "I have been told that you are building such a palace as no Indra before you ever built."

Indra says, "Indras before me, young boy what are you talking about?"

The beautiful blue black boy says, "Indras before you. I have seen them come and go, come and go. Just think, Vishnu sleeps in the cosmic void, and the lotus of creation grows from his navel. On the lotus sits Brahma, the creator. Brahma opens his eyes, and a world comes into being, governed by an Indra. Brahma closes his eyes, and a world goes out of being. The life of a Brahma is four hundred and thirty two thousand years. When he dies, the lotus goes back, and another lotus is formed, and another Brahma. Then think of the galaxies beyond galaxies in infinite space, each a lotus, with a Brahma sitting on it, opening his eyes, closing his eyes. And Indras? There may be wise men in your court who would volunteer to count the drops of water in the oceans of the Earth or the grains of sand on the beaches, but no one would count those Brahmin, let alone those Indras."

While the beautiful blue black boy is talking, an army of ants parades across the floor. The beautiful blue black boy laughs when he sees them, and Indra's hair stands on end, and he says to the boy, "Why do you laugh?"

The beautiful blue black boy answers,"Don't ask unless you are willing to be hurt."

Indra says, "I ask. Teach." (That, by the way, is a good idea: you don't teach until you are asked. You don't force your mission down an individual's throats.)

The beautiful blue black boy points to the ants and says, "Former Indras all. Through many lifetimes they rise from the lowest conditions to highest illumination. And then they drop their thuderbolts on the monster, and they think, 'What a good boy am I.' And down they go again."

While the beautiful blue black boy is talking, a crotchety old yogi comes into the palace with a banana leaf parasol. He is naked except for a loincloth, and on his chest is a little disk of hair, and half the hairs in the middle have all dropped out.

The beautiful blue black boy greets him and asks him just what Indra was about to ask.

"Old yogi, what is your name? Where do you come from? Where is your family? Where is your house? And what is the meaning of this curious constellation of hair on your chest?"

"Well," says the crotchety old yogi, "my name is Hairy. I don't have a house. Life is too short for that. I just have this parasol. I don't have a family. I just meditate on Vishnu's feet, and think of eternity, and how time is passing. You know, every time an Indra dies, a world disappears; these things just flash by like that. Every time an Indra dies, one hair drops out of this circle on my chest. Half the hairs are gone now. Pretty soon they will all be gone. Life is short. Why build a house?"

Then the two disappear. The beautiful blue black boy was Vishnu, the Lord Protector, and the old yogi was Shiva, the creator and destroyer of the Earth, who had just come for the instruction of Indra, who is simply a god of history but thinks he is all of Creation.

Indra is sitting there on the throne. He is completely disillusioned. Indra calls the carpenter and says, "I am quitting the building of this palace. You are dismissed." So the carpenter got his intention. He is dismissed from the job, and there is no more house building going on.

Indra decides to go out and be a yogi and just meditate on the lotus at the feet of Vishnu. Only Indra has a beautiful queen named Indrani. And when Indrani hears of Indra's plan, Indrani goes to the priest of the gods and says, "Now Indra has got the idea in his head of going out to become a yogi."

"Well," says the priest, "come in with me, darling, and we will sit down, and I will fix this up."

So they sit down before the king's throne, and the priest says, "Now, I wrote a book (sacred writings) for you many years ago on the art of politics. You are in the position of the king of the gods. You are a manifestation of the mystery of Brahma in the field of time. This is a high privilege. Appreciate it, honor it, and deal with life as though you were what, in reality, you really are. And besides, now I am going to write you a book on the art of love so that you and your wife will know that in the wonderful mystery of the two that are one, the Brahma is radiantly present also."

With this set of instructions, Indra gives up his idea of going out and becoming a yogi and finds that, in life, he can represent the Eternal as a symbol of the Brahma. So each of us is, in a, way, the Indra of his own life.

You can make a choice, either to throw it all off and go into the forest to meditate, or to stay in man's world, both in the life of your job, which is the kingly job of politics and achievement, and in the love life with your wife and family.

-from The Power of Myth, interview of Joseph Campbell, mythologist, by Bill Moyers, journalist.

Akhenaten

Revelation

The Gnawing

God's Promise

Power of Imagination

!!EPIDEMIC OF INNER PEACE PREDICTED!!

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