The Power of Enlightenment. The Great Unseen. Mahadeva. Memoirs of the Great Supreme Nirvana. Part 2.

By Oday La Kingsavanh

Details my inner transformations, awakenings, and remembrances of myself as Mahadeva. The great Unseen. Highlights my service to mankind as the great Bodhisattva and the duty of my incarnation. It depicts my courage of facing and accepting my fears, thoughts, and emotions, along of awaken to my own supreme power that supports, creates, and sustains the whole Universe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Oday La Kingsavanh
• Release date: Mar 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005365431

Oday La Kingsavanh

Oday La Kingsavanh was born in Savannakhet, Laos in 1972 and immigrated with her family to the United States in 1983. She began school in sixth grade knowing hardly any English but determined to succeed academically. She graduated with a BS in Psychology in 1996, MA in Counseling Psychology in 2001, and doctorate degree in Counselor Education and Supervision in 2009.She started meditating as ways to find focus and relieve from daily stress; but her deeper immersion in meditation had led her to understand herself and existence more than she had hoped or expected.She lives in Illinois.YouTube channel: La Kingsavanh (https://www.youtube.com/user/lasoy681).Sharing with everyone her insights and wisdom of transcendence, Self-realization and remembrance. It is her love and devotion to Self.Namaste, beloved!

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Part 2

Published by Oday La Kingsavanh at Smashwords

Copyright 2022 Oday La Kingsavanh

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Namo tassa bhagaovato arahato samma sambuddhassa

Namo tassa bhagaovato arahato samma sambuddhassa

Namo tassa bhagaovato arahato samma sambuddhassa

Namo tassa bhagaovato arahato samma sambuddhassa

Namo tassa bhagaovato arahato samma sambuddhassa

Homage to the Blessed One. The Exalted One. The Supremely Enlightened One.

Namaste beloved!

This book continues from The Power of Enlightenment. The Great Unseen. Mahadeva. Memoirs of Supreme Enlightenment. Part 1.

During my review of the manuscript one particular night, I stumbled upon elaborating on ‘lineage’ in The Great Shiva: The Fearless One. Memoirs of Final Nirvana.

Certainly, it regarded to be the hardest subject to explain incarnation in the course of my conversation with Sean. A very uncomfortable vigor began to grind bit by bit erupting my whole, and second by second it elevated, for some unknown reason.

At night, while lying in my bed, I yelled piercingly amid this energy utterly stirred, I am so scared! I am so scared! I am so scared of myself!

Waking at wee hours, relentlessly I tackled this wildly unnerving, achy fear which monumentally afflicted and disrupting my sleep.

An image came, of Shiva sitting as the yogi. I watched Him before scorching planks fell near. Then, more and more hot wooden boards dropped in front, next to, and behind him, yet, he sat calmly, in peace. I sheltered by hugging the Destroyer, though He sat still, unmoved by what ensued. To investigate, I assumed his yogi shape but didn’t acquire much insight, although noticed that there weren't distractions, inner noises, or movements in me.

Abruptly, I positioned myself by the quiet sea in the evening hour, as the Destroyer remained seated in the same pose.

This is the ultimate fearlessness. This is the ultimate fearlessness.

A small, bamboo straw house crumbled behind Him, signifying something was collapsing inside me.

While going over the memoir the next midday, again, I came across another page where Sean and I spoke of my ‘energy’ as Shiva. He mentioned that I ‘identify’ with the Destroyer, even though my energy greatly was this, itself. However, uncertainty combined of anxieties enflamed inside over how to expound ‘lineage’ into a description to help people grasp it. My concerns relating to people’s understanding re what had been written kept me sleepless, along of dealing with frustrations of having no key words to elaborate.

Soon heavy glooms profoundly crippled me, circulating itself sturdily and pitilessly. That day, I was supposed to go see a dentist to get two fillings. Going to a dental office to get my fangs drilled wasn’t always pleasant, and therefore my nervousness increased, piling more aches and pains atop me. After polishing The Great Shiva, I ate lunch but experienced increasingly low moods. As gloominess devoured every single scrap of my bones, I headed upstairs. It nearly had me weeping. I played Buddhist chant on my smartphone and lay on my bed, closing my eyes.

It hurts. It hurts. Krishna, I whispered.

Immediately I found myself standing in front of a seashore, in the dim light. Krishna showed himself. A big fish slouched on sand before several smaller fish came into view, along with snails that crawled in sticky mud.

I am your God. I am the only God, He said. Once you let go of this, I will show you my world.

Although I'd informed Krishna that He was ‘my God’ infinite times, still couldn’t believe He mentioned this, himself. Momentarily about seven Indian monks arrived, wearing white robes, shaved heads and dark hair braided in the back. Their foreheads were painted of three horizontal white lines. Not certain why they were there, I observed them.

They are at your every command. They will help you. They love you, worship you, and revere you. They are your devotees, Krishna shared, couldn’t believe I had devotees. "You are the Soul of their souls. They live in you, and you live in them.

I am the Soul of their souls, I said softly. I live in them, and they live in me.

The monks gathered up the swimming creatures, plus the river snails. Suddenly, we discovered ourselves on the other side of the sea. It was still night. The devotees cooked the fish and snails in a pot. They got toothpicks to drag the meat from the shells, to eat. Meanwhile, I slumped low, deep in pain. My tears flowed. The black lingam manifested itself directly, I hugged it. The monks witnessed my cries, they lowered their heads.

Mahadeva, they all said together.

Afterwards, we strolled in dark climate, marching towards a big Shiva shrine which stood higher, somewhere covered by soft white mists. His enormous statue was coated in pale orange and gold hues, stationed in the vast sky. I held my trident, leading the devotees.

She’s coming home. She’s home, I heard as we neared. I sighted a door at the bottom of the Destroyer’s figure, but when I got closer, Hanuman’s gold idol as big as Shiva’s, situated on my right-hand side. Soon it changed into a high, golden temple. I climbed upwards. The monks followed right behind. Once I scaled to the middle of it, I shot myself to the summit of the shrine and performed dances using my trishul. The monks watched speechlessly where they stood.

The true Mahadeva, they all said, helping me realize that everyone and everything was Mahadeva, but the ‘true Mahadeva’ was the all-complete, powerful energy, pure blood - the Destroyer Him/Herself.

Next, I situated myself elsewhere, without the devoted ones, gripping the weapon of destruction underneath a gentle, golden sky. The floor swirled of a powerful gold force. Krishna reclined, His arm on his knee.

Show me your world! I shouted, as I strolled closer.

You are my completeness! You are my completeness! He shouted, and felt my chin. You’re a true Mahadeva! Mahadev!

In a moment, I went airborne, hollering at the many devotees who awaited by the gate, by the Destroyer’s shrine.

Open the gate! I yelled, and gestured my hand to uncover it. Let my devotees in!

The dedicated ones rushed forth, and I sailed them through the spinning vortex.

I opened my eyes, feeling lighter, then descended the steps to eat. As I was going to be numb by Novocain in an hour, I might not be able to chew afterwards. I checked in at the front desk. Many patients sat waiting, either reading magazines, using their phones, or glancing at TV. A little play zone seen located at the corner for children. Santi would’ve enjoyed it, if he'd tagged along.

Only a minute's wait, I got called in to wait for the dentist. Her assistant cheerfully greeted me and discussed what needed to be done during this appointment. I conveyed my nervousness to him, and asked various questions to help me feel at ease. He reassured he’d relay this message to the teeth expert.

Strangely, Buddha’s image kept popping up, whether I closed my eyes or not. He donned an orange robe, sat in meditation. Amid lingering, I should see what Buddha wanted, hence, I shut my eyes.

Give your all to others. Give your all to yourself! He said.

Immediately, Krishna featured himself on the left side, reclining. Promptly, I strode inside a garage where He put on plastic goggles and was cutting wood using a saw. After a moment of observation, I walked towards him, grabbed the sharp sawblade to stop it from rotating. It took a few seconds before the metal halted. No drop of blood gushed from my hand.

Swiftly, I was hung on the wall. He retrieved a big sword, slicing my body into halves. Hard candies dumped from my empty form.

I became deeply crystal clear and held a golden weapon, the spears somehow had folded into an oval, the tip possessed a diamond shape, and the rest of the divine staff dangled of golden rings. I marched forward, discovering myself in the hollow unlit space. Buddha maintained sitting where he was, shouting; She’s the clearest I’ve ever seen. She’s the one to do it!

My attire switched into a long, elegant silk empress robe from ancient China, but my shapeless form turned immensely pure, comparable to an ultra-see-through glass.

I uncovered my eyes and continued waiting, though Buddha didn’t leave. He conveyed that I was Krishna’s ‘completeness’. Now Krishna reappeared, lounging. It made no difference whether my eyes were open or shut.

The dentist finally marched over, and I informed her of my fear of injections due to having bad reactions in the past. However, before the procedure, I dissolved these emotions and they had much reduced. My nervousness wasn’t at the level that it had been when I'd initially arrived. She preached - this was life, and everyone needed to face it. The dental techniques were nothing to her, as this happened to be her daily practice. She added that my behaviors seemed to be worse than of a seven-year-old, whom she performed procedures on earlier in the day. Her comments caused me to be somewhat embarrassed. My cheeks softly brushed.

After the fillings, I thanked her and gave her a hug. Being numbed made it hard to speak, to schedule a cleaning appointment six months away. I slurred alike a bad drunkard.

When I came home, I reflected on why Krishna said he’d show me ‘His world’, since he'd already given His all to me. Uncertain if I'd heard Him incorrectly. Also, understood that, within, I had let go of much, which felt as though I held ‘no control’. Though this gave me a huge relief, nevertheless, there remained traces of fear.

At dinner, it became challenging to even slurp noodle broth, though I ate what I could, as my stomach growled in hunger. Three hours later, the numbing didn’t fully minimize. In the morning, I noticed my tongue was burned from the boiling soup.

At sunset, Santi and I left to go to my sister’s house for a ‘game night’. During dinner, I overheard my brother-in-law lecturing my little nephew to sit up straight - do this and do that, to learn proper table manners. The situation bothered me a bit. Parents just couldn’t leave their kids alone, allowing them to be who they were. Undoubtedly, my inner reactions needed to be confronted, to accept things as they presented.

Subsequent Santi slept, I retired on my queen-sized bed. My workout exhausted me: I'd run five miles, attended dance class, then lifted weights. A flash of Krishna arose in the void.

You are the Soul of my Soul, He said immediately. The wife of all my wives, the love of all my loves. You have my entirety!

And you are the Soul of my Soul. The only God for me. The only love for me, I said.

Everything that is you is supreme pureness, He continued.

Despite experiencing anxieties over applying the face-lightening cream which had been prescribed, nevertheless, I chose to rub it on the sun marks on my hands and a tiny dot on the lower side of my cheek, to gain an even tone skin. It gave me a bit of dizziness a couple of days later. However, after a full week, the small area swelled, which frightened me that this occurrence might be alike previous situation; although my nervousness wasn’t as strong, and I didn’t stop using it. The experience empowered me to recognize that I don’t give up. I don’t ever give up.

Daily, I noticed my uptightness over things. One unique evening, Sean cooked a whole bag of mozzarella sticks, prompting me to immediately complain.

You don’t need to cook the entire thing. It’ll be a waste. I cook that for Santi’s snacks after school, I angrily voiced.

He alleged it’d be eaten, but Santi didn’t bite much of it, and I only put a couple of cheesy pieces in my mouth. The rest was left uneaten. After rambling on several more times, I understood something else was brewing inwardly; however, I wasn’t too definite what this was. It became as if I was never certain, as if I was just a ‘float’, no left or right, front or back.

Sean wasn’t able to chauffer Santi to his swimming lessons on a Saturday morning; hence, I’d be the one to do it. He got summoned back to work at the hospital, to fix something in their operating room. The seven-year-old was told during his lessons, I’d be lifting weights. Afterwards, he could go to a ‘media room’ and play games while I jogged on the treadmill.

His mood was uplifted over the arrangements and he seemed all agreeable, displaying bright smiles on his adorable face. That day, I ran longer and faster than usual. When I detected a liver spot on the side of my cheek in the mirror, my fear heightened. Still, I would use the cream until the bottle was empty, all the way, to see how it truly worked.

Lately, the visions which arose were of Shiva and Buddha. Shiva would be sitting in the cosmos accompanied by his divine items, his palm uncovered. Buddha, an equivalent image of him contemplating in a golden mist would occur. Sometimes I’d see leopards, though I didn’t investigate details why they showed up.

At sundown, my sister invited Santi and I over for ‘game night’, and the little boy grew overly jovial over the pending occasion, wanting to play with his cousins. He’d remind me every now and then during the day, that it was almost time to set off. Upstairs, I loafed on the floor, watching Chinese dramas which I’d been viewing too many of, lately. It seemed a diversion. On and off, I felt sullen.

At my sister’s house, I wasn’t enthusiastic over playing any game. Within, I was tackling some sort of fear, wanting to be alone and feeling physically drained. After playing one game, I went to sit on the couch, viewing a countryside cooking vlog. The location took place in a remote village in China, displaying serene sceneries of limestone mountains roofed of faint white air, possessed rich green rice fields, and valleys. The chef would go pluck various herbs and fruits on her farm. A wonderful chef she was, as I salivated seeing her yummy dishes. Inside, at times, I wanted to weep and would curl up like a ball on a sofa.

We left the party earlier than usual. Santi reported he didn’t have too much fun, other kids didn’t really want to play with him, or the games they engaged in were too rough for his liking. He slept on my bed again, saying he was scared, once Sean finished singing lullabies to him. He fell asleep, and I shed tears while listening to calming meditation music.

I failed! I cried. I failed. I failed in everything. I completely failed.

That night, I lacked sleep. Every now and then haunting distress would crop forth. At sunrise, Santi woke, moving continuously. This didn’t help me snooze. After we used the restroom, he raced downstairs to read, whereas I attempted for an extra repose; however, I mused over my dream of fish swimming in plastic tubes inside a bedroom.

In the dream, I showed my two friends the beauty of the fish that swam in a tall, cylinder fish tank. They were a few, and the tank also carried a turtle. In the home held another area where almost the entire house was a bedroom decorated in purple colors: the drapes, bedspreads, pillows, and more. It was supposed to be my bedroom, but I wasn’t going to sleep there. It felt too masculine.

But allowed the Buddhist monks who visited to rest in that part of the house. Hence, I returned to the bedroom which was occupied by fish swimming in a pipe, circling a beautiful, comfortable bed decked out in beige, and lighted bulbs connecting in different corners.

A dream of fish always an indication of attachments which must be peeled off. One of the fish jumped out of the tank and I ran after, but wasn’t sure if I should bring it back to the fish tank. Even so, I wasn’t very firm on how I was going to liquify the conditionings or ties remaining in me.

Moreover, within, I grew to be truthfully desireless, to where there contained hardly anything. At times, I couldn’t even bring myself to go to a grocery store to buy foods for the household during the week. Likewise, when rereading over the manuscript, I spotted certain words which could be tweaked; yet I stared at them, not having a speck of wish to strike a key.

I can’t face myself anymore, I said. I am so, so tired of it. I am so tired of this never-ending job of facing myself. I can’t do it anymore. I am done. I am so tired of it. I just want to relax. I have done and did everything. I have done and did everything.

Tossed and turned, trying to catch some relaxation, but something suddenly developed, leading me to sob.

I submit to you again, Krishna. I submit to you again. I submit to you. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. I am so, so dead. I am so very dead.

Abruptly, inside empty dark space, I lay facing downward weeping.

I am so dead. I am a void. I am a void. I am a great void. I am a great void.

Then crawled on all fours and encountered Buddha in similar position. A leopard appeared, strolling gently and in a second making me realized what was going on.

Buddha! Buddha! Buddha! I am empty, void! I am empty, void! Buddha! Buddha! I am void!

You are this itself, He commented.

I am this itself, I said, crying and aware of what transpired inside me even more; what I reduced to. I am this great void itself. I am this great void itself.

I crept over misty atmosphere until witnessing close to hundred Buddhist monks walking. They wore gray Buddhist outfits. Their heads were shaved and carried big, round bowls.

Help them! Buddha yelled.

Help them, I said, and flew into the air, making pink lotus become visible inside their brown colored bowls. Soon sailed ahead to sit aerially, before they reached me. Like last, they didn’t notice, some got confused and strolled off. Witnessing this, I became at a loss on how to assist.

In a moment, Quan Yin manifested