Six months ago, all I knew of Garuda was that it was the name of one of Peet's blends

of coffee beans from Indonesia. Then one day I was in the Xela Imports shop on 24th

street, looking for a small statue of Tara to place on the altar I was setting up next to my

bed at the firehouse where I work, and I told the owner of the shop that I considered

Tara to be the patron saint of paramedics. "Oh-- what about Garuda?" she asked. She

explained that he helped to rescue people, and the one small cast statue she had of

him showed a fierce eagle's head and talons on a human body, with a person riding on

his back amidst the fanned feathers of his wings and tail. I considered whether or not I

wanted to work with Garuda as I went out to feed my parking meter, but finding an ex-

pensive ticket on my windshield, decided I couldn't justify purchasing the statue that

day. But I did start doing research into who Garuda is.

A mythological creature arising from the Hindu tradition, Garuda has also found a place

in Buddhism, appearing throughout Asia from the Himalayan heights of Tibet down to the

islands of Indonesia. Half eagle and half man, he is the Vahana of Vishnu, one of trinity of

major dieties in Hinduism. In that tradition, some dieties have Vahanas, or mounts, whom

they ride as a person would ride a horse. Ganesha's Vahana is a mouse, and Vishnu's is

Garuda. The trinity consists of Brahma the creator, Vishnu the preserver, and Shiva the

destroyer. So, even though the figure on Garuda's back in the statue turned out to be the

god Vishnu rather than a rescued victim, their shared task is that of sustaining and pre-

serving the creation, redeeming us and rescuing us from our self-destruction, so that we

can go on in this world. I realized that while the gentle compassion of Tara may indeed

make her the most appropriate guide for paramedics, who seek to restore balance within

people, the fierce protection of life embodied by Garuda seemed to correspond to the task

undertaken by firefighters-- that of rescuing people from external threats to their lives and

well-being. The eagle heads atop our helmets that hold our shields in place, the outstretched wings on our badges and in the fire department seal, all took on deeper meaning.

As soon as I placed the statue of Garuda on my altar and began praying for his assistance,

I noticed a difference in the kind of calls I was getting. Instead of the low-acuity patients who needed reassurance, I was being sent on extreme calls where life or death hung in the balance. Patients who were clinically dead and it was up to me to attempt to bring them back or let them go. A man who rolled his vehicle on the freeway into some bushes and was impaled through the neck by a branch, who was still alive when we arrived on-scene, but after fighting like hell for twenty minutes to gain access to him, was gone. Another man who had alcohol with his lunch and whose blood sugar was extremely high, who "fell asleep" and rolled his car on a city street where children were walking home from school. He was uninjured and refused to be transported to the hospital, and it fell upon me to admonish him for not taking better care of his health and making better choices, lest his irresponsibility cost him his life, or that of someone else. I also encountered motor vehicle accidents on my commute home from work as never before-- some with fatalities, and all where that potential was close at hand. Working with Garuda meant working with a lot of energy, I was learning, where the stakes were high.

On the morning of May 18th when I arrived at work, I asked Tony Valerio, the off-going

Firefighter-Paramedic, if he could do a shift trade with me. I needed June 3rd off, and I

offered to work June 2nd for him if he could work the 3rd. As it happened, he needed May

30th off, so we agreed to trade the 3rd for the 30th, instead of the 2nd. May 30th turned

out to be the last shift I worked with our Lieutenant, Vinny Perez, as both he and Tony

were killed in a house fire they responded to on June 2nd. In the disorientation that

followed the loss of two of my favorite people in this world, a loss that could have so

easily been of my own life, I forgot that on the night of May 18th I had stayed up late at

the firehouse and bid on some items on eBay-- a Garuda medallion I intended to wear

while on duty and a miniature cast statuette of Garuda from Thailand, as well as a

beautifully carved wooden statue of Garuda from Bali. The seller of the wooden statue

had contacted me to apologize for not being able to get it shipped immediately, because

he was dealing with an "expected death" in his family. I told him not to worry, that it

sounded like he needed Garuda's help more than I did at that point. I was at the firehouse

dealing with the aftermath of the fatal fire when the statue did arrive, and my wife said

that she passed a fatal motor vehicle accident as she was driving it home from the post

office box. Both Tara and Garuda found a place on the memorial table we set up for Vinny

and Tony at the firehouse-- initially amidst a sea of flowers, but remaining long after the

flowers' passing. Tara is there to remind us of the gentle compassion that Tony was so good at embodying, and Garuda represents the fierce protection of life that was Vinny's strength. It's up to those of us who remain in this world to animate those qualities now, through our

own expression.

Ultimately, there may be but one God, but the energy that is Great Spirit takes on many

individualized forms as it moves through this world. Everyone reading this, as well as

every blade of grass and every rock, are some of those forms. Looking towards our source,

there are concentrations of energy that can assist, heal and protect us, so that we can be

successful in manifesting what we have come here to be. Call them what you want-- angels, guides, deities-- they love us and are available to help us if we but ask. Some we work with throughout our lives-- some for but an isolated moment in time. As far as my relationship with Garuda goes, I will always have a deep love and respect for him, and a gratitude for helping me through a very perilous and difficult passage of my life. Perhaps I'll work directly with him again in the future, but for now, I'm taking a break. This path became clear to me after the Garuda medallion I hung on the community altar at Chenery & Diamond in Glen Park disappeared. I know that whoever took it needs it more than I do now-- I only hope that whoever has it navigates their way through the high energy atmosphere of Garuda's world with good fortune and grace.

But more than the disappearance of the medallion, I feel that Garuda's place in my life was temporary because I was able to figure out what he was doing in my life, and I can now carry that wisdom from within. At first I thought that Garuda had come to me to help me rescue others. The outcome of that rescue being more often than not unsuccessful was confusing. Then I realized that he was helping me to rescue myself-- showing me time after time examples of the death that is the result of living life without respect for its sacred nature. The consequence of years of inhaling tobacco, of eating without moderation, of driving recklessly. We are forgiven for our self-destructive ways only for so long. If we fail to learn to treat ourselves and others and our lives as sacred past a certain point, well, justice will prevail, one way or another. We don't need to concern ourselves with rescuing others-- a task that isn't even possible. We need but to rescue ourselves from self-destruction, and all else will become clear.

THE JUSTICE OF GARUDA