“Scriptures say the cobra’s phana shelters jewels. In the underworld of nagaloka, nagas guard treasures. Their king, a cobra, garlands the neck of Shiva.
“Buddha entrusted his secret teachings to nagas, who gave them to Nagarjuna, a thousand years later.
“Once, I sat with a charmer in an orange turban and robes beside a thatched hut. His flute raised cobras from baskets. He showed me how to stroke their phanas with my fingers.
“I have loved snakes and I have killed them.
“Above the Himalayan town of Dharamshala, my family hiked to Sauli Khad — Shady River — where Jennifer had darsan (sight) of a serpent, thick as her thigh, moving through the brush. We did not tell the children.
“Now, in cold dawn, Logan, Utah, I sit before our family altar, incense, candles wreathing statues of Shiva, Durga, Ganesa, a photo of my guru. The house is cold, and I lift the cowl of my green woolen poncho over my head and think of all the treasures I’m entrusted to care for this side of death, this side of love.”
