Tat Tvam Asi - I Am That I Am.

Almost all the modern day Teachers and Gurus of contemporary spiritual growth expounds the importance of prayers as a crucial part of a practice towards a spiritual growth at the deeper level;  the path of higher consciousness approaching the inner sanctum of one's heart and one's Divine Nature. Prayers comes in as many forms as there are those who chose to pray and no one way is the correct way as it is relative to the one who is doing the praying. I say that prayer is the most personal on a man's sacred attribute only answerable between the man and his object of worship. In the true sense of the Universal Collective Spirit of man, in prayer he is connected to to the 'Whole', he becomes one with that which he prays to. Man becomes the God within him, as "the Temple of the Living God is within, and the Living God is Omnipresent within him. A genuine intention to become one with the All is responded by the manifesting of the inner Being into the external realm through, Art, Music, Dances, Rituals, Poetry, wood working any expression of the Spirit...in words, thought and action. 

Personally, I Love God. The creator,The Merciful , The Ever Loving, Lord of the Universe, Lord of Power, the All Being and Non Being, I Love My Lord and let this posting as I am writing testify to this. I was converted to Islam at the age of 12 and before that I was raised a Buddhist, practicing the Hinanyana form of Buddhism at the Mahindrama Buddhist Temple, in Georgetown, Penang. My Grand Father, whose Singhalese name was Paul Mariano, was commissioned to do the Murals of the whole inner part of the temples walls and ceiling. His works is still as it was when he painted, only the layers of paint that has added to keep the works fresh. I used to sit and gawk at the ceiling, at my grand father's works while listening the Ceylonese Buddhist Monk talk away softly of the life of the Buddha; my mind would drift lost in the images of strange creatures and celestial beings, Buddhas Bodhisatvas and a host of other beings dancing all over the ceiling bathed in bright colors. I learned by heart the Tripple Jewels recited in the original Pali and Homage to the Buddha Shakyamuni, The world and Time Honored One. I remember this till this day and would occasionally recite them to myself while in my state of Samadhi or complete absorption. I would recite the lines with in gratitude for having been given the opportunity to have a glimpse of the Great Teachings of an Enlightened Being, One who found for Himself the Way to Liberation; I do not worship or pray to the Buddha. I Love the Buddha for He had taught me through His life and teachings.

I was too young then in the early fifties to realize that I was destined to lead a challenging psycho- spiritual quest as I grew up. The impact of religious beliefs was very heavy but as a child I took them as innocently as a young mind could handle. In a house where where Aunts and Uncles, cousins and siblings all lived under one roof, My uncle and I were the only Buddhist while the rest were Muslims. I grew up in a typical Malay Muslim home in a typical Malay village, called, Sungai Pinang, Kampung Selut- or pretty much meaning, The Sungai Pinang River  Muddy Village. In the early 50s there were not electricity and the whole village was inundated by the high and low tides of the sea. House were built at least six feet above the ground to avoid sleeping on water beds. In short I grew up having a luggage full of questions as to who I was or who am I?

I was converted to Islam in 1962 while livng with my immediate family in Kuala Terengganu, on the East Coast of the Malay Peninsular, along the South China Sea. I accepted the choice made for me by my family and I said good bye to my adopted father, whose original name was Paul Nanda s/o Paul Mariano and I saw my uncle cried for the first and last time the evening we sat on the sea wall, close to Fort Cornwallis, or commonly called The Esplanade or Padang Kota, fondly called by the locals. His office was nearby where he was a Store Keeper for the Penang Port Commission or commonly known as PPC. At the age of twelve I accepted the inevitable future of my life like I was living a dream or pretty much drifting or sleep walking; perhaps I was too young then to know any better; I did not cry except for the silent scream in my heart.

To transfer from one religion to another was no easy matter and I had to practically blot out any thought of the Buddha and His teachings or my Grand Father's master pieces done in one of the oldest Hinayana Buddhist temples on the Island of Penang. When he passed away I was to find out a few days after and I was not moved or touched or even sad, but within my heart i felt the tear and long silent scream or a loss. To me my grand father was was the epitome of a true of the fine Arts and he died they say while still making animal figurines out of paper mace. His downfall was to alcohol as was my own biological father whose original name was, Simon Bartholomuze, he was a jewelry maker form the old school as practiced in Sri Lanka even till this day. Hes designed his own pieces albeit rings or pendants or necklaces of gold, my father it is with pride i say to myself was a Master Gold Smith, an extraordinary artist, and most of all a very patient and loving man; in him I saw  acceptance in dealing with what life has to dish out to you. He too drowned in alcohol. Living in a devout Muslim  community, my father's need to have his toddy in the evenings was a stigma for my family to live with and felt sorry for my father for i felt the pain that had gone through throughput his life being married to my mother; he remained the frog (prince) for good. But he lived his life according to his choice and no one was to say otherwise and so every evening my father would cycle a total of of twelve miles for his drink. He was however well loved and respected by the community of hard core Muslims of the East Coast back then.

I inherit my father's and my grand father's creative - rebellious genes of an artist and although they were converted to Islam as their religion I felt Buddhism or the teachings of the Buddha remained in their hearts and I am the same. Thus when talk of prayer is raised, I would say it is indeed a very personal matter, not quite explainable and I call this faith. The faith of acceptance of the inevitable of what life has to throw at you in the course of your journey from cradle to grave. Every moment and every thought that passes through you is your journey and every image and every form manifest from you, you create your own life, your world, your faith, your destiny. You can make it fast and exciting, challenging and yet wholesome or you can make it boring as hell. The physical, material world is your canvass and your brushes are in your hand and all you have to do is paint, you manifest yourself. I am writing about it, as i write about my journey to get there, the road I have been led to take and now have chosen to do so out of my own free will: I am who I am, who I choose to be and I know this to be my truth and my faith...Insha'Allah...God willing.

In the Wheel of Life, it is said that you are sometimes up at the very zenith of the wheel or sometimes down at the very bottom, however you have to taste all the in between as you rise and fall. The Buddha freed Himself from being in bondage to this wheel; He broke loose and as He passed on He was said to have uttered, "I, Am No More."The Buddha sat in silence and became the silent witness of what transpires throughout his life and the evolution of his Spirit from one life to another in transmigration and incarnation. He was an evolved souls who came to fully realize that He was and is a fully evolved soul that has transcended this realm of existence and of any other existence in the future. He merged with and into existence itself. "Existence Is, None who Exist, Suffering is, None who Suffers, Enlightenment Is, None who Attains it."

"I am, That I Am!, Tat Tvam Asi."