The Soul’s Journey – Sant Mat – Surat Shabd Yoga





Kenneth H. Green

Executive Director

Golden Sun Foundation for World Culture


The following is edited by Beezone (see
full talk
) from a talk Chronicles Radio Dispatches

with Julia Sagebien on December 7, 2006.

 

Ken Green, Chogyam Trungpa Rimpoche and Tibetan
and Hopi Prophecy

….that’s when (Rimpoche) said, “We’re
going to Nova Scotia and that was the beginning of the
Shambhala Wisdom for me that very day. He really
shifted.

He said, “This is going to happen. We need it to
happen” and he said something interesting. He said,
“North America is like the three Kalashas: Mexico, is
passion, the U.S., is aggression, and Canada, is ignorance
and ultimately we have to work with ignorance.

There was a question about well what about America…and
then over the course of the month and the months to follow
we spoke about prophesies, the Shambhala prophesies and he
asked me to look into the native American prophesies.

 

Grandmother Caroline and Karmapa found each other. And
they shared stories.

When I went down there years later with my wife and son
we talked about the Tibetan prophesies and the Hopi
prophecies and how they are one in the same. She said come
the turn of the century, the first ten years between 2000
and 2010 there would be tremendous environmental disaster
and economic upheaval.

This time is what the Hopi call “the
Fifth Time or the Fifth World
” I believe. They
measure in time cycles and were entering into the fifth time
and will be difficult.

So shortly after having that meeting with Grandmother
Caroline, I was back at Rocky Mountain Dharma Center and
this was one of my last business meetings with
Vidyadhara.

One of the first things we spoke about was my trip to
Hopi Land and he got really interested and he wanted to know
all about it in great detail.He really wanted to know one
thing more than anything else. He said, “When do the
Hopis think things will change? Did she give you a
date?”

I said, “Well, she gave me an approximate date and
she said it would be somewhere in the first decade of the
new millennium,” and he smiled and said, “She has
it right,”….


In their quest for technology (knowledge) the people
represented on the top line would loose their hearts and
think from their heads and not from their hearts. They are
called the two hearts or Bahannas. The different cultures of
the world are seen on the top line. On the bottom line are
the one hearts.
read
more on the Hopi prophecy

 

You may also be interested in when Gerald Red Elk, a
Lakota Sioux shaman, met Trungpa Rinpoche at Rocky Mountain
Dharma Center, during the Magyal Pomra Encampment in July
1984.

“Gerald Red Elk talked about why he had requested to see
Chogyam Trungpa. He described the declining situation of his
people, as well as the changing of the cycles according to
native American tradition.”

read more >>>


“His Holiness expressed a desire to
meet with the Hopi Indians in Arizona.”

 

Steve Roth / As told to Don Morreale in a personal
interview

17 July 2010

There’s a famous prediction attributed to Padmasambhava,
8th Century Tibetan saint:

When the iron bird flies,

And horses run on wheels,

The Tibetan people will be scattered like ants across the
world

And the Dharma will come to the land of the Red Man

 

His Holiness with his driver, Steve Roth, 1974

I was fortunate enough to be present at the fulfillment
of this prophecy. In October, 1974, His Holiness Gyalwa
Karmapa came to Colorado at the invitation of Chögyam
Trungpa Rinpoche. I was asked to be his personal chauffeur.
His Holiness expressed a desire to meet with the Hopi
Indians in Arizona. We set about making the necessary
arrangements even renting a brand new, gold colored Cadillac
as the official vehicle for the journey. We finally left for
Arizona trailed by a caravan of cars containing His
Holiness’s retinue of attendant monks and lamas, a Tibetan
translator named Achi, and around twenty-five American
Buddhist practitioners from Karma Dzong in Boulder.
Transfixed by the presence of his Holiness, I did my best to
drive mindfully.

Early in the afternoon of the following day, we arrived
at a place called Second Mesa, a hlgh plateau on the Hopi
reservation. It looked like an old chocolate cake. I nosed
the Cadillac onto the dirt road that spiraled up around it,
and we slowly made our way to the top. Even though it was
October, the temperature was well over one-hundred degrees.
The place looked dusty, desolate, and poor. A man who looked
to be about eighty years old, wearing a plaid shirt, jeans
and tennis shoes, approached and greeted His Holiness. His
name, he said, was Chief Ned. There was a sweet, loving, and
gentle air about him. Through Achi the translator, His
Holiness asked: “How goes it? How are things with your
people?”

‘Not too good,” replied Chief Ned, “We haven’t had rain
in seventy-three days.”

His Holiness listened with an expression of deep
compassion on his face. “I will do something for you,” he
said.

Then Chief Ned invited us to go down with him into a kiva
[ceremonial room] to see some sacred relics. There
was a small hole at the top of it with a rickety ladder
poking out. When he motioned for us to go down it, His
Holiness politely declined. He was a rather large and portly
man, and there was no way he could possibly fit through that
hole. He asked that the rest of us go down while he remained
up above. Down in the cool darkness, Chief Ned showed us an
eagle feather and other sacred relics.

When we climbed back up into the sunlight, His Holiness
abruptly ended the visit. “Let’s go,” he said, and that was
that. We got into the cars and headed back down the dusty
road and out across the desert to the Hopi Cultural Center
and Motel where we were scheduled to spend the night. As we
drove, His Holiness, sitting right across from me in the
passenger seat, began chanting a puja and making sacred
mudra gestures with his hands.

The desert baked and shimmered in the intense heat. I
looked out at the sky and noticed a tiny, sheeplike, fleecy
little ball of a cloud, all by itself way out there on the
horizon. I didn’t give it much thought. I kept on driving,
and the Karmapa kept on chanting, and ten or fifteen minutes
went by like that before I glanced up again. Much to my
surprise, little puffballs of cloud now polka-dotted the sky
from horizon to horizon.

The next time I looked, the clouds had congealed into a
solid gray mass. This was getting interesting. By the time
we reached the Hopi Cultural Center and Motel, the sky had
darkened to an ominous and foreboding black â?? not
just black, but a
classic,”Cecil-B-DeMille-Moses-and-the-Ten-Commandmentsâ