"Where's Karen?" Revisiting her on her Birthday

Two questions: 1. What is the point of living? 2. Is Karen here or in my imagination?

Karen’s birthday, October 23, was always a big deal.

She morphed her Scorpio spectacular into birthday week and then birthday month. So, when my friend Bridget asked, “How are you planning to celebrate Karen’s birthday?” I realized I hadn’t given it much thought.

My first instinct was to bake some Bondo Pies (tomato pies) and invite folks over. That’s cute (and still happening).

I still felt I needed to get to the bottom of my question: “Where’s Karen?”

I heard about another Karen “sighting” this week. My friend Philip told me, “I was laying in savasana in yoga class and suddenly felt Karen’s presence.”

I reached out to Bhagwan, my spiritual mentor and meditation teacher for the last 29 years, to get two essential questions answered:

1. What is the point of living?

2. Am I really sensing Karen, or is this my imagination?

If you’ve been following this blog, you know I ask my alter ego, Henny Youngman, to supply the needed leavening for my weighty questions.

Fictional Henny reported:

“I was walking down the street in Berkeley California looking for a hot dog, wondering, how come you can’t you buy a hot dog anymore? I was salivating for a Chicago dog with onions, relish, sport peppers, tomato slices, pickle spear, celery salt, yellow mustard, and poppy seed bun!”

“Don’t get me wrong, if you’re from New York or Chicago, sometimes you NEED a dog. But my friends in the the know have been encouraging me, ‘Henny — lighen up — try to accept life as it comes. You’re grieving.’ A California friend said, ‘Henny, you’re in California, for krise sake. Try visualization; let life come to you.’”

“So, I started visualizing the perfect dog, but couldn’t dial in the picture — is it a Hebrew National, Nathan’s, foot-long? No, it’s a Chicago dog. I closed my eyes and tried chanting, ‘Namu Myōhō Vienna All Beef.’

“I opened my eyes, and there was Seoul Hotdog — a Korean Berkeley hot dog stand. Jeez, what kind of cockamamie cultural appropriation is this? So, ordered the sweet potato hot dog with pepper jack cheese in spicy batter, with an extra dusting of Parmesan.”

“I took a bite into the Unknown, left my Vienna beef world behind, and continued down the street in an epiphany, asking, ‘What is the point of living? What is the point of living?’

Then it happened. I spotted a bumper sticker and realized I could stop beating myself up with these crazy questions:”

Thank you, Henny Youngman.

I need to take the deep stuff with doses of humor (done). So now we can turn our attention to Bhagwan.

This Skype conversation was heartfelt and tearful in spots, so don’t feel obliged to dive in if you’re eating your breakfast. Here is its entirety with “hmmm” notes:

BRUCE
Bhagwan, when we last talked, it was less than a month after Karen had passed. I had been going through a big reset in my life.

BHAGWAN
I can imagine that.

BRUCE
Karen and I had been together 40 years, then boom; it was like losing half my limbs.

BHAGWAN
Yes, and with your children away, you're alone now.

BRUCE
I'm an outward person and find my lifeblood engaging with other people. This has been difficult, with each month profoundly different. For the first few months, I was reaching out and clinging for connection in every direction. By May, I had to give that up. I realized I had to become comfortable living in my center.

To get to the point, I had to examine – not my purpose for living – but the purpose of living. If you ask someone the purpose of living, they will offer a picture — some form of self-satisfaction – travel, building a second home, learning something new. Even if they want to make a positive difference, it's to feel good about themselves.

In the absence of that, and this sounds ridiculous, I have been asking, what is the point of living? Not in a suicidal way, but as a point of inquiry. There are millions of books out there, but no one addresses it. In an earlier post, I consulted an AI Chatbot, which made a decent attempt.

Bhagwan, I expect you to say that self-realization is an end in itself. Is that it?

BHAGWAN
What's the meaning of living?

BRUCE
Yes.

BHAGWAN
You're presuming that you're Bruce Miller, and Bruce Miller doesn't know the purpose of living. But are you Bruce Miller? That's the question.

BRUCE
Or is Bruce Miller an experience, and that experience is changing all the time?

BHAGWAN
That's right. But who's experiencing that change? There's an entity there. Bruce Miller's life has many changes, ups, and downs, and people getting born, dying, and so on. Friends coming, going, all that, all the activities. Bruce Miller has all those experiences, but who is Bruce Miller? Bruce Miller himself is changing. His body is changing. He's growing old and so on. He's getting thin and fat, whatever.

Hmm #1: In my first meeting with Bhagwan in 1994, he stressed “The I is but a notion — it’s merely a thought.” At first, I wasn’t clear what to do with this, but I learned that in meditation, the goal is to place one’s attention on the fact of your existence. The question, “Who am I?” kickstarts a transformative process.

BRUCE:
So, who is Bruce Miller?

BHAGWAN
Those changes you are going through are happening, but that's an outer experience. There's an entity that's constant.

BRUCE
After Karen passed, my experience of Bruce Miller became less compelling. But even if there’s less Bruce Miller, I still have to get up in the morning.

BHAGWAN
Then you have to get up.

BRUCE
Is it okay to ask, what's the purpose of this?

BHAGWAN
What's the purpose of getting up? What's the purpose of doing what I'm doing? My career, my job, my activities. What's the purpose of this? You're asking the purpose of Bruce Miller.

BRUCE
Yes. I can invent a story, but it’s not satisfying.

BHAGWAN
Bruce Miller has no purpose. You're not Bruce Miller. That's the point. So, who are you? There's an entity that's experiencing all these changes.

BRUCE
The question is, is there an entity experiencing this experience of so-called Bruce Miller?

BHAGWAN
Exactly. That is constant. The Bruce Miller that's not constant doesn't make any sense. There's no meaning. You're born, you die, you're fat, happy, unhappy, you're going, you're coming.

None of that makes any sense because it's transient. But is there something constant that's experiencing all this?

Hmm #2: Bhagwan draws a sharp distinction between what’s transient and what’s constant. If you look up and see birds in formation against a stormy sky, the birds will fly off, the clouds will lift, and the rain will stop — but the atmosphere remains constant. In a human being, pure awareness is that elusive constant.

BRUCE
I accept that constant.

BHAGWAN
But what is it?

BRUCE
That's the question.

BHAGWAN
What's the entity that's experiencing all this? If you go there, you might find something constant, timeless, and eternal. In that, you might find satisfaction or purpose. The outer has no purpose except to lead you to the inner. The outer gives you tragedies, difficulties, and misfortune so that you can question and question what's the purpose of it all.

BRUCE
The outer performs this function well.

BHAGWAN
When your question reaches this point, you can finally say there's no purpose. There's no purpose in the outer experiences because it's all transient. If you ultimately find something constant, perhaps you'll find meaning there.

BRUCE
But in that constancy, nothing is happening.

BHAGWAN
Nothing's happening. That's right. Nothing's happening. Nothing's changing. It's eternal – but you have to find that. You have to find that constant where nothing is happening. There's no time, there's no space, there's silence. It’s an eternal eternalness where there's no time, no measurement.

BRUCE
And in that constant, is there abiding satisfaction?

BHAGWAN
Perhaps you'll discover blissfulness, satisfaction, meaning, love, beauty, and compassion. Perhaps you'll find all that.

BRUCE
So, in that self-subsistence, where nothing outward is happening but stillness itself, is that self-fulfilling. Is that it?

BHAGWAN
I might say that’s the case, but you have to find that out.

BRUCE
I know this in a way, but I'm still driven to create. Creative manifestation always draws me forward.

BHAGWAN
When you discover the outer not to be self-fulfilling, the inner becomes the only place to go. If you're creative, you can find self-fulfillment from the creative source.

BRUCE
That's how I experience it.

BHAGWAN
But what's the source of your creativity? Where does it come from?

BRUCE
Creativity takes me closer to that source.

BHAGWAN
Creativity might also take you toward the outer — toward activity.

BRUCE
But it takes me to the source.

BHAGWAN
Where is this coming from?

BRUCE
That creativity comes out of nothing — that is why I find it fulfilling.

BHAGWAN
Yes, it's coming out of nothing – or coming out of the source of everything, the source of the universe, which is nothing. The universe is the creation, yet there is nothing in the source. You have to discover what it is.

Hmm #3: I am inclined to assign spiritual significance to the universe, but Bhagwan does not take that bait — the universe is yet another transient manifestation. He directs our attention beyond the manifested — to the Source of manifestation.

BRUCE
We are talking about constancy – discovering that constancy.

This leads me to my main question – about Karen.  You spoke to Karen two days before she passed.

You were on the call when I put the phone to her ear, saying, “Karen, it's Bhagwan.” She was not verbal, but suddenly, and we were all surprised, she said. “I can feel him in my heart.”

It’s a beautiful memory.

BHAGWAN
I remember.

BRUCE
She passed away two days later. After four months of pain, suffering, and misdiagnosis from the medical people, I found some purpose in this — that she was in a cauldron, burning away everything that was no longer needed.

When the funeral transport people came to take her body, they said, “We’re putting her body in a bag; it’s not something you want to be the last memory of your loved one, so we advise you not to watch.”

But I looked anyway. It was instantly clear that Karen had nothing to do with the body in the room.

A day or two later, a medical intuitive named Shelly reported that Karen was in a good place and very happy.

Shelly was in Oregon, yet reported that Karen was like a Buddha – that’s the word she used. She said that Karen was staying around to be close to the people she loved so that they could experience the thin distance of the veils between this world and the next.

When I got that call, I was holding an umbrella over a mechanic replacing my car battery in the rain. I put the phone down and wanted to praise her, “You go, girl. Yay, Karen.”

This is where constancy comes in. In April, I began to experience that directly – the constancy of her presence.

Here is my question: How do I know whether this is all my imagination or that Karen is actually with us?

BHAGWAN
If you experience that from a state of silence, it's not your imagination. But if you experience it as a visual, a feeling, or a sensation, that's imagination; that’s mind. But if you can experience what you described in silence and as a state of silence, that's not imagination. That's real.

BRUCE
It’s only there when I’m in deep silence.

BHAGWAN
That's the heart. When she said, “I can feel him in my heart,” that's it. In that state, you can feel it. That's not imagining, that's real.

BRUCE
This sensation only comes when I get so quiet that I disappear. Suddenly, we're inseparable. I don't seek it out. It only comes when I become completely still.

BHAGWAN
That's not imagining.

BRUCE
We become inseparable. There's no me, no her, but that's…

BHAGWAN
That's the real thing.

BRUCE
Is there a place where she wants to connect to me through the heart? It's confusing.

BHAGWAN
There's no question of her being connected with you or whatever. You're one. You're always together. If you're inseparable, it means you become one. You're not two people who are connected with a link or something. You're so connected that you've become one. In silence, you experience that there's nothing. There's only silence. You both dissolved into silence.

BRUCE
That's my experience, but it's hard to put into words.

BHAGWAN
If that's your experience, that's the place to go. And in that, there's no regret, there's no lament, there's no sadness, there's no tragedy, There's nothing. You might feel very fulfilled in that state.

BRUCE
What has made this whole experience manageable was the sense that she hasn't really gone anywhere.

BHAGWAN
Exactly. Exactly. But now, to be in that state all the time, you must let go of her form, her identity, her name, her body, feelings, and thoughts and go to that place of silence. And you'll find she's forever there, but not in form. In reality, form is not real; form is mental.

In reality, she's always there. You are together as one forever. But don't start thinking of her as Karen and you as Bruce. You both have to dissolve into that oneness where there's no Bruce or Karen. You dissolve into one, and that's silence, which is a state of love in the heart.

Hmm #4: For Karen’s birthday, how can I not honor her memory with photos and favorite music — plus the pies? In Bhagwan’s telling, this will take us further from where she resides. We must find her in the heart.

BRUCE
I'm feeling tearful as you say this.

Hmm #5: I confess. I love her; I’m human.

BHAGWAN
This is the purpose of her passing away – to use that passing away to get to that place of oneness.

Hmm #6: I felt this when she passed, but couldn’t say it. She laid down her life so my life could blossom. What a terrible, beautiful truth.

BRUCE
She said that was her purpose from the first day I met her.

BHAGWAN
That's it. She had to leave, so you can also say that now. If she hadn’t left, maybe you would never say it, never find it. If she's there, why shouldn't you find it now? Since she's no longer here and you were deeply connected, you have to find her.

But you can't find her in form because that's gone. And even if her form wasn't gone, that was an interference, a distraction. You must find her now in Reality — not in mental imagination or visualization, but in the Real.

BRUCE
What kind of satisfaction requires disappearing in it?

BHAGWAN
That silent state is a state of fulfillment or satisfaction where you need nothing and have everything. You're fulfilled. It's not that Bruce is satisfied.

There's no Bruce there. It's not that Bruce is satisfied, but Bruce has dissolved into the state. And that state, when you might discover it, you might find it's a state of satisfaction. Because nothing is required, nothing is needed.

There's no time, no space. It's eternal, infinite. It contains everything. It's the source of creativity. It's love, compassion, and beauty.

You can use endless descriptions, hundreds of names, or a million. But this can't be described. This has to be found by yourself, and Karen's passing is the incentive to do so.

BRUCE
In a funny way, it's the best thing that ever happened to me.

BHAGWAN
Exactly, exactly, exactly.

BRUCE
And also the worst.

Hmm #7: Where’s Henny Youngman when you need him?

BHAGWAN
It's the best thing that ever happened and was the end of what you wanted. What you were living had to end so that the best could happen.

BRUCE
It was only when I could embrace her passing this way that things started flowing again.

BHAGWAN
Yeah, exactly. Exactly.

BRUCE
In my email, I apologized for not staying in contact. You said you “never, ever” felt I left. Those were very kind words.

BHAGWAN
Even if you have had no contact for two years, I don't feel you've left. Because your commitment was sincere, it was perfect.

BRUCE
There's nowhere to leave.

BHAGWAN
Exactly.

BRUCE
Please give my best to Maya and Barbara.

BHAGWAN
I'll say hello to her.

BRUCE
Thank you, Bhagwan, for taking this time. It means a lot. Have a great day.

BHAGWAN
You too, keep well, Goodbye.

BRUCE
Bye, bye.

Hmm #8: I called Bhagwan expecting to get a potent quote for my writing, but the tables were turned. This call launched me into an unyielding perplexity — a love drowning that is anything but satisfying. We think we understand the story of our lives — the plot line, arc, and outcome.

In truth, millions of stories populate the world’s shelves, and all were ultimately penned by the same hand. I’ve given up the illusion that I am writing the exception.

Happy Birthday, Karen. It’s your Birthday in eternity.