That Which Is Essential Is Invisible to the Eye

Testimonial

I had had the good fortune to have a couple of friends who had studied Dragon’s Tears with the nagual, Lujan Matus, and had wanted very much to learn it. I was very fortunate to be able to learn the first half in the first week of February of this year, and the second half in the first week of May. Both trips had a very profound effect upon me—not only because of the movements themselves, but also because of the interaction with Lujan.

I live in Japan and both times I traveled to see Lujan with a Japanese friend who has limited English but who is very eager to learn. Discussion between him and Lujan was sometimes difficult, because they do not share a common language and I served as “interpreter,” and I learned that to “interpret” is exactly what I had to do, as it was extremely challenging for me to try to express what Lujan had to say in another culture’s language, and vice versa. When I sometimes got stuck on a word or concept, it often felt like the nagual was lending me energy to make the job easier.

One thing that I found interesting was that when I was acting as the conduit between two hearts that yearned to communicate directly, automatically, without any thought, I got out of my own way and let their light shine through. The result was that my own light shone that much more brightly. The more I could be in a place of having no agenda of my own and of being just the channel, the more my own heart sang. It was a beautiful experience. And it was also interesting that most of what Lujan said to friend spoke directly to me as well, and one day cracked me right open. I am very grateful to my friend and to Lujan for having given me the opportunity to experience that. They gave me first-hand experience that what Lujan calls “soft shamanism” is indeed “the path of the heart.”

After finishing learning the whole Dragon’s Tears set, I was practicing it a few times each day. I stayed there on vacation and met my partner at a five-star resort nearby, where we spent another five days, and every morning I would stand on my own private beach and practice unobserved by anyone, except once by an eagle, and the energies that formed around me and moved within me were unlike any that I had ever experienced—and I teach Qigong and Taichi and practice Bagua!

The energy was palpable, and when practicing I felt as though I were dancing among the stars. Lujan has said that Dragon’s Tears had its origins in another time and place, and when performing it, it was like I was creating a song that was echoing not only to the farthest reaches of this dimension but in every dimension. It felt like each of my gestures was vibrating and changing the Universe, just as a butterfly flying in the Amazonian rainforest can contribute to a typhoon in Japan. It was a very humbling experience.

Just today (May 26th) I received a bulletin from a friend about the Gemini new moon (May 25 in the US, May 26 in Asia) that resonated with me with its butterfly imagery, as I had also been practicing my consolidated Ling Kong Jing version of Golden Lotus. It reminded me that I when doing it, I feel like a butterfly that flies from flower to flower in order to experience as much as possible and also to distribute what I have learned to others. The bulletin said that the darkness of this new moon is symbolic of misinformation and misperceptions, reminding us of the need for clear, honest communication from one open heart to another. This, too, sounds like what the nagual teaches.

Well, on the last night of my vacation, very early in the morning, I got up to go to the bathroom and wound up falling down a few stairs (the front and back of our villa were on different levels) and pulled some muscles in my right lower leg so badly that when flying back to Japan that night, I needed a wheelchair to get around the airports.

I wonder why my right leg had been affected. . . . Was I fearful of putting my right foot forward and going ahead with some plan? I decided that I was not—at least not consciously. Was I afraid that I might be persecuted if I tried to step forward into my truth? Perhaps partly. Was I under some sort of psychic attack? Possible, but likely?

One morning, I decided to practice Dragon’s Tears, but to do it while sitting on a stool, to keep the pressure off the injured leg. Despite that, as soon as I started, some other-worldly energies both entered and surrounded me. I was hot with the energies. At the risk of sounding ridiculous, it seemed as if a team of little blue beings had appeared to help heal my injuries. (I think that actually happened, but in another dimension.

Nevertheless, I was aware of being both here and there—it was at first a very giddy feeling, and slowly started to feel normal.) The sense I got was that these beings/energies were coming into manifestation from some other realm and thus I really needed to ground the energy I was receiving. I also sensed that the pain and the issue in my leg was partly caused by my fall, and partly caused by my body’s attempt to integrate these alien frequencies in my all-too-earth-bound body. As soon as I had that awareness, I felt a little better, and from the next day I could do the series of movements while standing. When I did so, some very powerful energy entered my crown and went right down to my sacrum and continued to the injured leg. At the same time, it felt like other energies were rising up from the earth. Each day I get stronger and closer to being healed, thanks to the energies that move through and around me when doing the form.

I was feeling great gratitude for that, when I once more remembered Lujan’s saying that his is “the way of the heart.” It reminded me that I had always known that, and that all of my life, Life had been trying to remind me of that. For example, one of my favorite books has always been Le Petit Prince, and one day the fox tells the young prince, “Voici mon secret. Il est très simple: on ne voit bien qu’avec le cœur. L’essentiel est invisible pour les yeux. [This is my secret; it is very simple: One sees clearly only with the heart; what is essential is invisible to the eye].” Elsewhere in his fable, Saint-Exupéry has said, “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” This resonates so clearly with things that Lujan told me during my training that I can almost hear the words in his voice. . .

I am, among other things, a Buddhist priest, and the other day I was studying Chapter 25 of the Lotus Sutra. That chapter is considered an independent sutra by many, and is called the Kannon Sutra. (Kannon is the bodhisattva known in the West as Kuan-yin, but in the sutra he is male. His name means “He Who Perceives the Cries of the World.”) Near the end of the chapter is a phrase that says: “His is the wondrous voice, the voice of the world-perceiver, the voice of Creation (Brahma), the voice of the rolling tide, the voice that is world surpassing.” When I read these words, the “he” suddenly shifted to become Lujan, whose wondrous voice is his words of truth that are indescribably expressive and gentle, but also words that shoot straight into people’s minds and hearts and jolt them into seeing who they really are. His words seem to spring forth from the truth of emptiness, from the real aspect of all things. With his great benevolence and compassion, his words echo not only with mellowness, gentleness, and solemnity, but also with sharpness, directness, and sometimes even profanity. It is precisely because of this that his words speak directly from his heart to our hearts, guiding us with the power of emptiness. . . .

I would like to close with a vision that I had in a dream last night. As soon as I fell asleep, I heard a jaguar growl. (The jaguar has been a totem of mine since my youth. I used to dream that I became one each night and prowled around the jungle in cat form.) When I looked around, I saw an old man that I recognized as a kind of benefactor. When he put his hand on my shoulder, I was suddenly on a small desert planet like Arrakis in the Dune series, and I was speaking with a giant Maker, one of the huge sandworms that make the spice used for intergalactic travel by navigators. I could smell the spice on his breath, and started to fear, but then remembered that a benefactor had sent me here, so I recited my version of the litany against fear.

“Fear is the mind killer. It stops the heart and brings total obliteration. I will stand and face my fear, and when it has washed over and through me, the fear will be gone. Only I will remain.” I stood before the great being, which now looked far more dragon-like, and as a tear fell from his right eye, it struck and entered my chest and lodged itself within my heart. Then I heard his words echoing in my heart of hearts: “This will help you perceive things clearly. Follow the path of love; it is the only Way.” Then I was suddenly lying awake in my bed, my heart pounding, and the dark room still shimmering with the afterglow of some other-world’s light. . . .

In today’s mad world, Lujan Matus is the only master I have met who offers practical guidance for becoming who we are and who we are truly meant to be by showing us how to follow the path of the heart. My gratitude cannot be expressed with words, but my heart is singing its joyful song in infinite thankfulness.

Stephen
Japan