Fillan, an Irishman who lived during the eighth century, had
an incurable love for writing which often drew him well into the
depths of the night. When he entered the monastery of Wexford, he
was informed by superiors that the use of candles was not
permitted after certain evening hours. Determined to continue his
writing, he unbridled himself of this restriction by way of a
miracle. When the curfew hour approached he simply held up his
left hand, which shone like a candle, and illuminated sufficient
area to continue his writing. Hence, writes Rodney Charles,
author of Every Day A Miracle Happens, Fillan wrote with his
right hand, by the light given from his left.*
Charles, a Vedic scholar who lectures internationally, is
himself no stranger to miracles. As a child, he had transcendent
experiences almost daily, experiences which he calls abstract. I
felt very expanded, as if my body had become very diffused and
thin, as if I was present in everything that existed. I felt
huge, like I was actually bigger than an entire school building,
and I had the sensation of being on a never-ending continuum of
frictionless motion, like oil flowing down forever. Though these
experiences included very personal interactions with angelic
light beings, Charles doesn't like sharing them, preferring to
focus on the background experience, the part that's still there
after the flash, and the part that's behind newfound psychic or
healing powers that often accompany such experiences. I think, he
muses, that the experiences are there to act as symbols for us to
perceive a greater reality, the experience itself shouldn't
overshadow someone's vision or spiritual quest. Experiences, he
continues, have nothing to do with someone's state of
consciousness; it can be a fabulous mystical experience, rich in
fibre and color in every way, but it may be lacking in
integration, the person can turn around and cheat you.
Consciousness is a new field for all of us, and that's what
fascinates me.
It was the mature, integrated quality he saw demonstrated in
the lives of the saints (they were always my heroes) that
interested Charles and drew him to the Vatican's Acta Sanctorum,
where he read documented accounts of miracle after miracle,
everything from levitation to food multiplication. Many are
included in his book, a daily inspirational tome which reflects
fifteen years of research, and includes the experiences of
miracle workers from religions and cultures all over the world.
Well received by both New-Age and Christian communities, Every
Day a Miracle Happens is functioning as something of a bridge
between them.
It has, however, had its share of critics, mostly from
fundamentalists of various kinds. Some have reacted to the
inclusion of modern day miracles not yet approved from on high
(who am I to be canonizing people?); others object to the
narratives about native Americans; still others accuse the author
of being the Devil himself. It usually works to their detriment,
notes Charles. They gather quite a crowd around a booksigning
table, and people buy the book just to find out what all the
hoopla is about.
Brought up in the Lutheran Church, Charles was expelled for
refusing to cut his hair. At fourteen, he'd spent time every
Saturday for two years preparing to be confirmed. I had my hair
long and the Minister told me I'd get it cut or I wouldn't be
confirmed, he recalls. When I mentioned that Jesus had long hair,
he yelled and screamed and....quite frankly, made a complete fool
of himself. He told me never to come back, so I left and figured
I didn't need to come back. Instead, he turned inward and, like
thousands of other seekers, found himself looking toward the
wisdom of the East for spiritual guidance. Crediting exposure to
Buckminster Fuller in the '70s with inspiring his monkish
aspirations, Charles threw away a Fullbright Scholarship to
attend The Academy for the Science of Creative Intelligence in
upstate New York. Under the auspices of the Maharishi Mahesh
Yogi, the Vedic influenced curriculum included meditation and
massage techniques, Ayurvedic medicine and yoga therapies. Since
it was an all-men's academy, the lifestyle was monasterial,
exactly what the meditative Charles was looking for. The
experience kindled his passion for the East, and he travelled to
India to study directly under the Maharishi.
There, he became fascinated with Vedic Art, a discipline which
serves as a vehicle for the artist's spiritual development. It's
absolutely incredible, raves Charles. You have to be an aspiring
saint to be a Vedic Artist. The goal, he says, is to become
enlightened through art. Everything is done with ritual and a
devotional attitude. Brushes are handmade and their acquisition
and construction are part of the ritual; a special trap is
constructed to ensnare a squirrel, whose tail holds the potential
brush hairs. After communicating the need for a small swatch, the
artist dips the squirrel's tail into warm water and gently shaves
a few hairs, which are then singly inserted into peacock quills
for use in an extremely subtle technique which makes both color
and texture seem to appear, fulfill, disappear and reappear in a
manner as awesome as creation itself. Another fascinating
technique involves production of the saffron color which
characterizes much of Indian art. Traditionally, it is obtained
by feeding mango leaves to cows for about ten days, collecting
the urine, distilling out the hue and mixing it with gum from the
neem tree. According to Charles, there are few such artists left
and, other than an early work by the late Joseph Campbell, no one
other than he has taken the time to travel to India, meet the
artists and document their tradition. The genius of authentic
Vedic Art, says Charles, is that the artist is consciously
integrating his spiritual experience, working in the silence, not
just responding to a momentary inspiration. It is the skill of
handling consciousness itself that produces the masterpiece.
Charles sees the ancient Vedic teachings of India as a pervasive
influence worldwide. Ayurvedic medicine for example, he says,
underlies the Chinese medical system. I'm even seeing it in the
teachings of a Native American Shaman I'm currently studying
with. They have this concept of the three humors of the body,
just as they do in Ayurveda.
Now married to Vedic Art co-worker Nandini Badhwar, Charles
recently became a father. Birth, he says, is the greatest miracle
of all, it's beyond my comprehension. The number of natural
forces that have to come together to create an ear here, a
fingernail there is absolutely astounding. More astounding yet is
the story of Saint Fursey of Ireland, which Charles tells on the
July 20 entry in his book; When King Edfind discovered his
daughter had married a Christian, he was enraged and ordered her
burned at the stake, he himself overseeing the sentence carried
out. When she was led to the fires, the voice of an infant
suddenly sprang from her womb...with a loud voice and
intelligible words the unborn prince declared that no flames
would ever harm his mother. The king was deeply shaken but
ordered the execution to continue. When the fires were ignited, a
torrential downpour extinguished the flames, saturating the logs
and everyone present. Saint Fursey was canonized shortly after
648 A.D. and is celebrated as the greatest spiritual visionary of
Ireland. Though some of the miraculous entries in his book are
probably overembellishments by zealous devotees, Charles claims
the vast majority of them are unquestionable.
Considered an expert in the field of miracles and angelology,
Charles describes miracles as simply laws of nature, not yet
discovered, that apply when the human spirit or consciousness
interacts with the spirit or consciousness of its creator, with
that fundamental organizing power that keeps planets rotating
within their elliptical orbits, the same intelligence that keeps
atoms bombarding in exact predictable paths. Miracles, according
to him, are just extensions of our own human potential; those who
experience seeming miracles are tapping into that potential in
the same way musicians can create symphonies in their minds or
mathematicians can grasp concepts beyond the rest of us. Charles
has an interesting theory that miracle workers have integrated
their nervous systems completely with the mind and, since the
mind has no structure, they are able to incorporate the
miraculous, which is outside the structure and limitations of the
body. Indeed, many of the accounts related in his book claim
incorruptibility of the body, such as that of Saint Catherine
Laoure, whose undecayed body may be seen today in the motherhouse
chapel of the Sisters of Charity in Paris, France.
The soft-spoken, forty-year-old Canadian, who looks like a
cross between Romeo and Saint Francis, feels that people are
becoming more receptive to the idea that miracles truly can
happen. He tells of sitting next to a man drinking beer at a
sports event, who asked what he did for a living. I told him I
was writing a book on miracles. I said it kind of sheepishly,
expecting him to sort of nod and turn to the person on the other
side of him, says Charles. Instead, he said, Oh yeah. I had a
miracle happen to me. Then he told me about being in a car
accident during which he saw and heard an angelic being, who
carried him through the broken window of his car. Charles
adamantly believes there is no man or woman living to whom
miracles are out of reach. If we believe otherwise, he states, it
is due to the illusion that simplicity and innocence are lost.
Charles, who once spent two hours on his knees battling with the
concept of prayer (Why, he wondered, should he pray if God
already knew what he wanted?) believes the innocence and openess
of childhood can be regained for adults through various
techniques, including fasting and prayer. His own diet is
vegetarian and his spiritual disciplines include daily yoga
postures and transcendental meditation.
He doesn't think the current generation is in any more danger
of spiritual impoverishment than those living in simpler times.
Negativity has always been with us, he says. The great spiritual
teachers have said it will always be with us. If the
consciousness is stable, the soul will weed out the negativity
and take what's good. This positive outlook extends into global
affairs. Charles, who has travelled around the world eight times
lecturing on how the mind and body function to accommodate
supernormal phenomena, continues to divide his time between
Canada, India and the United States. He feels the angels are with
us and doesn't foresee an all-out Armageddon. I don't think the
changes we're making will be as dramatic as some have predicted,
he says thoughtfully. I think that once the shift occurs we're
going to see some highly technical societies with and without
spiritual evolvement and some highly evolved societies that have
little technological advancement, aboriginal communities will
still be intermingled amongst developed nations. Evolution and
development are topics about which Charles has definite opinions.
Individuals don't evolve, populations do, he says, paraphrasing a
concept from his high school biology textbook. As we refine
ourselves we become mutants of sorts; when higher capabilities
become more common, the population shifts to accommodate the
changes and we call it evolution.
Charles work has evolved to include an art business in
Fairfield, Iowa, which he runs with his wife. They have
co-authored The Land of Love, Art and Genius, a book documenting
the techniques of Vedic Art in the Indian desert. He is also
collaborating with author Anna Jordan on a book about flying
saints, tentatively titled, Lighter than Air. Meanwhile, he
continues to walk the path of self-refinement, aspiring to become
more like his beloved heroes, developing the qualities and
abilities they have demonstrated throughout history. Though he
sees everything as a miracle of sorts, he's pretty impressed with
saints who fly. It's been done, and I intend to do it, he says.
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