The Art of Purring (The Dalai Lama's Cat 2)

She looked at him beseechingly. “Do you see children in my future? I’m beginning to think of a very different way of life …”

&n

bsp; Her words hung suspended in the warmth of the afternoon before Yogi Tarchin told her simply, “You have created the causes for much happiness.”

Wordlessly, he communicated a profound sense that all would be well.

Serena sat back, her shoulders relaxing.

For a while their talk turned to how things were going at the Himalaya Book Café and Yogi Tarchin’s plans to remain in McLeod Ganj for several months and give teachings. Then the conversation came to a close. As Serena thanked Yogi Tarchin for their time together, he took her hands and thanked her, in turn, for reestablishing the connection.

I hopped off the yogi’s lap as Serena got up and followed her across the carpet. The light in the room was even more subdued now—the three panels of gold had turned to silver—but the room was alive with energy. Serena left with the feeling that, at some profound level, all was well and always would be.

Yogi Tarchin followed Serena to the door, then watched as we made our way down the corridor with me padding along behind Serena, my bushy gray tail held high. Serena was just about to turn the corner at the end when he called after her, “Perhaps you have already met him.”

She paused, turning around. “You mean, here in Dharamsala?”

He nodded. “I am thinking.”

Later, over the end-of-the-day hot chocolate, Serena told Sam, “I so wish everyone could meet Yogi Tarchin. Or someone like him.”

Bronnie was taking a class, so it was just the three of us and the dogs.

Serena had been describing her visit with Yogi Tarchin and their conversation. Not the bit about her romantic prospects, of course, but more of what he had been saying about the mind.

“It’s not just the explanations, the words,” she said. “It’s the sensation you have in his presence. This vibe. I can’t really describe it, but when you’re with him you feel qualitatively different.”

Sam was nodding.

“He’s living, breathing proof of what happens when we realize the potential of our minds,” Serena said, her eyes sparkling. “Everything is possible. It goes way beyond even stuff like clairvoyance and telepathy, which occur naturally with an unobstructed mind, Yogi Tarchin says.”

“Even ordinary minds are more capable of those sorts of things than most people believe,” Sam said.

Serena raised her eyebrows.

“Most people experience telepathy or precognition at some point but just think of them as chance events,” he continued. “Coincidence. Most scientists won’t even look at evidence for ESP because they believe it’s rubbish. Ironically, that’s quite an unscientific attitude, because most of them are denouncing the subject without even looking at the evidence.” He chuckled. “Interesting how through the ages, when people have shown mystical powers they’ve been either revered or reviled. A much more sensible reaction, you’d have thought, would be to wonder, how can I, too, develop those powers?”

“Exactly.”

“We’re innately wired for them.” Sam made the assertion with such confidence that Serena raised an eyebrow. Putting down his mug, he stood up and walked to one of the shelves, then pulled out a book and returned with it.

“There are tons of research studies in here, proper clinical trials done by scientists who are prepared to investigate things objectively. They show that the so-called paranormal is actually normal. One experiment I like, which has been replicated a number of times, hooks up people to a lie detector as they look at a sequence of images on a computer, either emotionally calm ones like landscapes or shocking ones like corpses cut open for autopsies. A computer randomly selects the images, so that no one, not even the researchers, knows whether the next image will be a calm one or a shocking one. What do you think happens?”

“The needle goes wild every time people are shown a shocking image?”

He shook his head. “Three seconds before they’re shown a shocking image. Before the computer has even made the selection. It’s precognition. And these are just ordinary people being tested.”

Serena sat back in her chair with a smile. Having finished my milk, I took the available lap as an invitation.

“The mind isn’t just a computer made of meat,” said Sam.

“And we’re not just human beings capable of spiritual experiences,” added Serena, “but also spiritual beings capable of human experiences.”

Kneading her legs, I extended my claws through her clothes for just a moment.

She winced before adding, “Or feline experiences.”

“Naturally,” deadpanned Sam.