I’ve been wondered about my new imaginary friend Krishna. Is he my image of God? Is he a Buddha statue in my mind? Since he’s a figment of my imagination, he can be anyone.
Here’s how my meditations with Krishna work:
I sit. There’s a gate in front of me and I can see white light floating on the ground like fog. Krishna is on the other side of the gate, sitting and meditating, waiting very patiently for me to join him. He’s wait forever if he needs to, he’s in no hurry.
I know that I can’t cross into that white light area until I’ve calmed the turmoil from the day in my head, I don’t want to corrupt that pure place so I need to purify my thinking first. I sit just outside the gate and let my head rant and bounce around with complaints, grievances, whines, curses, and self-pity. All the time I’m doing that, I see Krishna out of the corner of my eye. He is calmly sitting, waiting for me. He is still and at peace, sometimes chanting. But he’s lost in his own world, waiting to bring me into it when I’m ready.
When I’ve managed to let my thoughts calm enough to consider going forward, I approach through the gate and into the white light, towards Krishna, and he opens his eyes and smiles.
Sometimes he takes my hand and we run together, giggling. Sometimes we roll around on the ground together playing and he screams, “stop tickling me!” He isn’t just a stifling godly guru who conveys some sort of image of solemn meditation perfection that’s impossible for me to attain, he’s a playmate that looks like a 60-year-old naked Indian yogi.
“What/who exactly is God”, I’ve been thinking? When people say they see visions, how are their visions different from my Krishna? What is a vision but something that your imagination presents to you? I acknowledge the possibility that some people see visions that are supposedly very real and solid and alive — I don’t know about that, I only know about what’s going on with me and Krishna. He doesn’t pretend to be anything but an imaginary friend, but it’s not a big deal to him nor me.
The other day, listening to my audible book “Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind”, Suzuki mentioned that it’s important to empty the mind when meditating. I took this concept to Krishna in my meditation. “How come when we meditate together I don’t empty my mind? I see you, I see this place.”
“We can empty our minds whenever you’re ready,” he replied. He held his hand out for mine and we sat quietly and emptied our minds.
Krishna tells me whatever I want to hear about myself. He “yes”‘s me to death. He shows no opinion or suggestion except to say “You’re ok just the way you are. Don’t change a thing. hush… shsh… quiet, soft, gentle. You’re ok and perfect. Everything will work out fine. Trust me. Let me show you. Take my hand and don’t lose me.” He says these things with a heavy Indian accent, rolling his “rrrr”‘s and rocking his head left and right as he talks.
Yesterday I asked him, “Who exactly are you?”
“I’m you,” he said, as though to say “You, me, it doesn’t matter! I’ll be whoever you want me to be!” And then he giggled!