Alexander – Phil Morimitsu
It seemed as if there were nothing that could be done. There was a fire in my heart that I couldn't control. It was anger at one moment, ambition the next. Whatever it was, caused me to drive myself to the brink of overheating. I paced back and forth in my study, unable to read or do anything else constructive for that matter. I switched on the TV and, after changing channels a couple of times, settled on a movie that seemed to be just about over.
The movie ended with the young hero on his deathbed, dead at the age of thirty-three. There was a great procession with armor, horses, and foot soldiers. Then the film credits rolled across the screen with pompous military funeral music wrapping up the show. It was a movie about Alexander the Great, the young Macedonian who conquered most of the known world in his day.
"That's not exactly the way it happened," a soft voice said as the movie ended.
"Huh?" I said.
"I know someone who was there, who witnessed the whole thing," the voice added. It was Wah Z.
"What did happen?" I asked curiously.
"Let me introduce you to someone who really knows what happened," he said. I snapped off the TV and turned to two figures who were just beginning to appear in my study. Wah Z continued, "I'd like you to meet Sri Vaita Danu."
Out of the shadows of my dimly lit room, stepped a tall figure dressed in white. When I was better able to make out his form, I realized he was wearing a turban, which accounted for some of his height. He was wearing pure white muslin that was floor length, and from what I could tell, he was of East Indian descent. His face was dark, and his skin shone. He wore no facial hair and appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties, though he may have been much older than his looks revealed. The stranger bowed deeply to me and flashed a wide, pearly smile.
"Good evening," he said, with a slight trace of an Indian accent.
"Wah Z has mentioned to me that you would like to have me tell you a story in hopes of solving a problem that has been with you for some time. But don't be discouraged, for your problem is the same one that has plagued man since he first stepped into the lower worlds. It is my humble wish that my little tale can be of some benefit to you."
"Oh," was all I could manage, being a little startled. "Won't you have a seat please?" I said, as I motioned to the two ECK Masters. Wah Z sat on the edge of my couch, as was his custom,while Sri Vaita Danu took a seat in the easy chair, sitting on its edge.
He began his story. "Few men in history have carried the raw courage,leadership, and abilities to fight as Alexander, son of Phillip II of Macedonia, better known as Alexander the Great," Sri Vaita said, unraveling his story.
"In those days, it was important for a king and leader to be the strongest and the bravest in battle, and Alexander was this. Always the first in battle, his enemies recognized him not from his armor and colors, but from his superhuman courage and daring. It was these qualities that inspired his men to overcome enormous odds and conquer the known Western world.
"Alexander was not born a gifted fighter. He was smaller than the average man of height and stature, and his features were fair — grey eyes and blonde hair. No, Alexander made himself a great king through sheer willpower. But the reason he thirsted for new worlds to conquer was out of fear!"
Sri Vaita paused for a moment, as if to let this much of his story sink in. I glanced at Wah Z, still sitting on my couch, and then at Sri Vaita, who had closed his eyes in thought, as if he were remembering what took place those many centuries ago. Then he began again.
" The Soul that was Alexander came into that lifetime knowing he had the opportunity to make great spiritual gains — or material gains. The choice that he had to make was that of the conquest of the lower self, of of falling victim to the Ahankara, or vanity. As history has borne out, he chose the conquest of the outer worlds, thus falling prey to his own vanity. And in doing so, he became a haunted and driven man — constantly challenging the fear in his heart that he wouldn't reach his goal of everlasting fame. This was the reason for his great courage and daring. When confronted with a fearful challenge, he attacked it, lest the fear take hold of him. He became his own greatest enemy, challenge, and tormentor. All the world would extol his courage, his kingship, but still it wasn't enough. He couldn't conquer the one foe that mattered the most — himself."
Sri Vaita shifted his weight on the edge of the chair, folded his hands, and continued his story. "The year was 327 B.C.; Alexander's army had crossed the Indus River. After an overwhelming victory against King Porus of this region, he was making plans for penetrating deeper into India. By the end of the year, Alexander's army had lost more men to sickness and inclement weather than it had to enemies in battle. The men were tired of war. It had been more than eight long years of terrible fighting, weather, and seemingly impossible odds to cope with; and now they wanted to return home to their families. This was the one battle that Alexander could not win. He tried every rallying trick he could think of, to no avail. It was, in Alexander's eyes, a form of defeat — and the worst kind, for it involved his own men. But he had to give in. He promised that, upon reaching the great Indian Ocean, all those who wished to return home by ship would be able to. And he hoped he would be able to get reinforcements from Macedonia via the same route. All this he promised his men with the hope that, as they entered further into India, the added treasures would make them forget their longings for home and they would gladly go with him in his insatiable drive for conquest.
"This is where the ECK had me enter into his life. I appeared to Alexander as he rested in camp after making his way through the gorges of the Hydaspes and Acesines rivers which fed into the Indus further south. I offered him a sack of water and spoke to him in his native Greek, ' Drink, Alexander, and all life will be yours. '
"He looked at me and received the gaze of the Mahanta. If he drank, he would have opened his heart to the ECK and his journey to SUGMAD would have been started. Instead, he hesitated, for his heart was found wanting of trust in the Holy Spirit. One of the officers sliced the water bag with his sword, thinking the bag contained poison.
"I told him, ' You have been tested and found wanting, Sire. You shall die early in life, unhappy that no worlds are yours for conquering. You shall become a wanderer through life, in birth after birth, until you find one who will take you to the SUGMAD.'
"There was a brief moment as the words sank into Alexander's heart. Then he shook himself out of his daze, gave a glance to one of his officers and motioned to me with his head — a motion to strike. But as the officer raised his sword, I disappeared into thin air."
By now I was totally engrossed by the story. Sri Vaita had me on the edge of my chair. I looked over to Wah Z, and he too was listening intently, but watching my reactions as well.
Sri Vaita continued his story. "Within the next five days, Alexander raided the Brahmin country of the Malli. As his army was stalled in its drives to take a high-walled city, Alexander himself scaled the sheer heights with a ladder, fought his way onto the ledge, and jumped into a swarm of enemy soldiers. Seeing this, his men followed, crazed that anything should happen to him, and ashamed that it was he, once again, that had led the way in the face of great danger. On the other side of the wall, Alexander fought against incredible odds, but his ferocity plus the legend he carried with him — the Malli knew it could only be him, for no other man would have displayed such exceptional daring and courage — drove the Mallians back singlehandedly. One of the Mallian archers let fly an arrow from the top of the wall that pierced Alexander's armor and entered his lung, shattering one of his ribs in the process. Still, he fought on for a few more seconds until finally collapsing. The Greeks, just now overflowing the top of the wall from which Alexander had first come, upon seeing their fallen king went berserk with rage, slaughtering all the enemy soldiers in sight and then the citizens of the city.
"The arrow was removed successfully, and Alexander lived, when any lesser man would have perished. But it was not without a price. The broken rib permanently damaged his right lung, so he was never again to regain the great reservoir of energy that drove him in his conquests.
"He lived for three more years, but they were years that were plagued with a slowly declining vitality, and he witnessed his demise by the day. With each passing hour, he knew that his life would never be long enough to conquer all that he would have wanted to conquer, for there were not enough days in any man's life to take all that he lusted after.
"So you see," Sri Vaita said, "there is a bit of Alexander in all men, until they drink of the water offered by the Mahanta.
"The fire in your heart is nothing more than the desire to return home to SUGMAD, but if you direct your efforts toward controlling your outer world, your fate will be the same as Alexander's, as well as any number of would-be world conquerors. Conquer yourself, your lower nature,and the fires that burn and torment will turn to a boundless warmth of love, and a light that will show the way."
With this, the Adept grew silent, staring at me with his dark eyes. As he faded into the air, I turned to Wah Z, who was still sitting on my couch. He had been watching me with interest all this time. When his eyes met mine, his gaze was so piercing, I couldn't return it. His gaze penetrated my innermost being, but something inside me knew I had to look. I forced myself to meet his gaze, and at first, I was scared. But as I stared into those deep, dark pools of infinity, a slow surrender came over me. And where there was once fire in my heart, there was now a warm glowing love. And somewhere in those deep dark eyes of his, I could see a shining light leading me home.
From the book In The Company Of ECK Masters – Phil Morimitsu © 1987
