And I will long remember that day as the day when Baba held up the sun for His brother so that I could see the sight that Baba wanted me to see.

What I saw I pointed out to my companion, but he was not visibly impressed. Why is it that what I see others do not see? Sight must be, it seems to me, something that is given, like love. Perhaps sight is not in the eye at all; perhaps sight is in the heart. It seems that there are things given me to see. These are the things that Baba wants me to see. Sometimes I am amazed at the beauty of what I have seen, and I seem to be the only one who sees what I see, i.e., what has been shown to me by God.

There are many things that are not given me to see. These are the things that Baba wants me not to see. Not to see is an important part of seeing. To be shown one thing and not another is more significant than to be shown all things or to be shown no things.

To me Baba says, "Look here; do not look there. See this; do not see that." The Beloved selects for me what I will see and not see. Thus it is that I am the artist to whom it is given to represent in painting the face of the Almighty Beloved. For a painter light and color are the air he breathes. For me, however, the image of the God-Man is the very substance of art. Through my eyes Baba produces great and mighty works, while all along I remain the one who sees that which is given to very few to see.

It is as though a beggar were suddenly given a great fortune – yet he remains what he was, a beggar, while retaining the fortune.

The day was over for in India the twilight time is very short. The next morning Jal put us in the paper-taxi and sent us on to Ahmednagar.

PART III. THE SAMADHI

"There was and is no way out except by my coming in your midst. I had to come and I have come."  – Meher Baba.*

There is no hope outside of You, Meher. So I trudge across the bosom of the Universe to bow down to Your samadhi. The Savior of the world, Thou art, so I cry out to you. If you will not save the world, then at least you will save that very Thou which is the Real Me encased within this framework of most finite limitation. To beings of the world you will not give your infinite treasure, Meher. But to a humble beggar – that is more likely.

When I was with Baba in 1965, He was very interested to hear of our visit the day before to the samadhi of Hazrat Babajan. Baba asked us many questions about it. Baba asked, did we bow down to the tomb. Phyllis said, "I don't know how." I at once thought what a marvelously humble thing for her to say. (Indeed, who knows how to bow down at the samadhi of a Perfect Master?) And Baba said simply, "You will."

I never could have dreamed at that time that I would be coming back to bow down to Baba's samadhi. We all thought Baba was going to live to be ninety.

I said to Baba, "It meant nothing for me to go to Babajan's tomb, except to make me thankful that I have a living Master." Then Baba said, "Babajan is in Me." I have heard of the "fourth journey," but what in God's Name could that be? All I know is this interminable "first journey."

Baba asked, "Did you see pictures of Me and Babajan at the tomb?" When we answered "No," Baba explained that the man who was taking care of Babajan's tomb is a Moslem, and believes that pictures of God must not be shown; but, Baba