In the mountains of Tibet, China, driving to the city of Shigatse, I met the black-robed Baby Buddha (a tulka of accepted lineage). Arriving and entering the visitor parking area I saw many priests cloaked in a black garment with a red interior liner.
I was directed to a building with long lines of people and bought a white silk scarf to be blessed when I met him. Inside, the many skylights framed rays of light that deepened my consciousness shift. Eventually, the line shortened and I stood before the seated Baby Buddha. I didn’t know what to do at first. Having observed others kneeling and bowing, I knelt eye-to-eye with him.
He looked into my eyes and spoke to me, and I had no idea what he was saying. I investigated his energy field that radiated streamers of yellow-gold energy. He seemed so young, yet he was probably between 40 and 50 years old.
Finishing his chat he looked intently at me, blessed me with palms touching, bowed, and touched my forehead. I fell backward, propelled by some energy. His light finger touch sent a shock surging through my head. I remembered getting up as he smiled at me. It was hard to regain my feet. Later a friend confirmed that I had really seemed to be knocked backwards with the touch of his finger, rendered unconscious. When I recovered, the Baby Buddha spoke to me again. I felt dazed and somehow blessed. A completion had occurred, a sense of wholeness.
When I walked away, a young priest, an assistant to the Buddha, asked me what the Baby Buddha had said. From what I understood, the Baby Buddha did not speak to visitors, and I was the sole white face in that room. The priest’s request seemed urgent. “Why did he speak to me?” he insisted upon knowing. I told him that I didn’t understand the words.
When I left, I felt somehow whole again. Stepping out into the light of the day, everything carried a brightness and clarity so intense that it should have burned my eyes, but it didn’t. I had headaches for months where his finger had lightly touched me.
— Kevin Jeffers