ONE OF THE MORE intriguing concepts Crow gets into is the use of mercury as a healing substance. Mercurial drugs have a long history of use in Asia, he says, and by the second century they were developed into a system of medicine known as Rasa Shastra. Paracelsus introduced mercury to European medicine in the 1500's. Over the years its use was so abused that by the late 19th Century it spawned a new disease, hydrargism which was "...characterised by tremors, neuralgias, paralysis, convulsions, profound anemia, excessive purgation, and death."

In other words, mercury poisoning.

Because of this , Crow is disturbed by the professional dilemma presented by Rasa Shastra:

"Why would anyone want to explore and publicize the ingestion of medicinal mercury, knowing that the practice is fraught with danger to both practitioner and patient, medical controversy, misunderstandings, and legal ramifications, and filled with alchemical magic and religious superstition?

"For years, these concerns prevented me from addressing a subject that is well-known in India and Nepal but almost unheard of in the West. After a decade of deliberation, I now believe it is important to discuss the following aspects of medicinal alchemy.

"The first is the major role mercurial drugs play in Ayurvedic and Tibetan medicines, which recognize their curative value for diseases unresponsive to other forms of treatment. The second is the extremely dangerous nature of mercury, its misuse in modern medicine, dentistry, and industry, and its poisoning of people and the environment. The third is the reverence alchemists and iatro-chemists [scientific chemists, ed.] have for mercury, a reverence which-- if adopted by modern science and medicine --could halt their growing abuse of nature.

"Finally, and perhaps most crucial is the question: what solutions do classical Tibetan and Ayurvedic methods of healing offer the countless patients who suffer chronic and acute disorders attributed to the ever increasing presence of mercury in our lives?"

In Ayurvedic medicine, mercury is 'purified' through a laborious, time-consuming and multi-layered sequence of cleansing with herbs and distillation. Crow writes:

"This process, like all aspects of alchemy, is regarded as having spiritual and mythical dimensions, as well as a scientific basis. The Sanskrit names of mercury, such as parada, the 'sperm of Shiva', allude to its great power. To make parada safe for consumption, it must be mixed with a substance of equal power: sulfur, the orgasmic vaginal secretions of Parvati. Mercury and sulfur have a natural attraction, say the alchemists; when melted in molecular union, their poisons are transmuted into healing nectar. Sulfur is also considered the elemental embodiment of menstrual blood, and the womb which gives birth to Kajjali. Kajjali is the alchemical child of Shiva and Parvati, and the basis of other medicines."

Try that one at home.

Despite the mystical stangeness of this to the Western mind, it's no more bizarre than the layering of astrology and what-not on European alchemy. We'll leave your curiosity about medicinal mercury piqued at that. Read the book for more.

THE OTHER GREAT MATERIA MEDICA Crow devotes a chapter to is Soma:

"Soma ranks third in order of importance among the Vedic gods. One hundred twenty of the Rig Veda's 1,028 hymns are devoted to Soma, who is adored as a divinity along with Agni (solar fire) and Indra (king of the gods). After reading the description of Soma's effect in the ancient texts of medicine and religion, who would not want to imbibe this nectar of deathlessness? It's action was calming, strengthening, and rejuvenating; it was said to reverse the aging process and to transport one to visionary states of consciousness."

Soma, the mythical inebriant of Brahmin priests, belongs to a class of magical herbs called dibir bhuti: "Dibir herbs can change their shape and disappear, an ability they used to hide from ordinary people. Only the good-hearted can find dibir bhuti; after purification and respectful prayer, the plants will appear, indicating their pleasure by bending toward you."

Crow says Soma has preoccupied mystics and scholars for thousands of years, yet what it is remains an ancient mystery. It has been described as a god in the form of a plant who bestowed life and inspiration; a juice that cured evil by linking heaven and earth; an ambrosia that conquered death; a psychedelic mushroom; an alchemical process; or even a moon deity.

But as alchemy may be the mother of chemistry, Soma may be the mother of Asian herbalism, "...the impetus for an era of botanical research among Taoist hermits and healers of China, which laid the foundations for what is now practiced as Traditional Chinese Medicine throughout the world."

THERE'S A QUESTION HERE that begs for an answer: How are we to regard Ayurveda today in the face of modern science, as we Westerners know it?

First, we must remember that modern medicine--as we know it--took form around World War I and is less than 100 years old. Ayurveda on the other hand is a medical attitude embraced in a comprehensive religious belief system that is thousands of years old--we shouldn't be distracted from it because it is being re- discovered by the wishful thinking of New Age baby boomers.

Now, the argument between religion and science goes on forever, but there is a commonality in healing that the better doctors know: If the patient is approached with a caring attitude and a kind touch, the patient will heal. You can give her placebos, you can give him mercury, but if he and she believe that the doctor knows what he or she is doing and they think that he cares what he is doing, then they will heal.

Mystical, no?

According to Crow, Ayurveda seems to work, especially in the simpler and more direct applications of herbal medicine, for a poverty stricken society that hungers for any kind of medicine.

Again, the question, how are we to regard this? Buddhist teaching tells us that life is an illusion, a dream. What, then, does it matter whether we heal or not, for this is not our reality? Physical death on this plane is inevitable whether we are Ayurvedic or Harvard Medical School.

The question suggests separate realities, if not a multitude of realities.

AS WELL AS GREAT INSIGHTS into Ayurvedic medicine from reading Crow's book, you will gain a compelling view of what life is like in Nepal today and what it must have been like thousands of years ago. His writing is evocative and he takes you on physical journeys through the countryside, villages, the forests and jungles, to the great festival of Shivarati in Kathmandu, to cremation ceremonies:

"A pyre was burning on one of the ghats. I made my way toward it until I could see a person lying in death's fiery embrace. The flames had consumed all but the rib cage, neck, and skull. The brightest burned inside the hollow chest, outlined by the blackness of the bones. I watched as this human like myself dissolved into heat, light and smoke."

On a livelier note, he's poetic about the richness of Nepal's flora:

"All beings are born from, suckled, raised, and eventually reclaimed by the Universal Mother. As the moon, clouds, and rain, she nourishes the plants with her juices. In dark forests and silvery meadows, the queen of the night moves among the leaves, releasing infinite chemical transmutations as she excites the flavors and smells circulating in the veins of her vegetal subjects."

The book is replete with images of green darkness, white light and fire, as well as discussions of ancient alchemy and healing care. And it is not lacking in Buddhist thought:

"I remembered Kalu Rinpoche explaining how consciousness becomes obscured by the limitations of the body. The mind in its natural state is inherently pure, he had said. It has no form, no center or circumference, and resides in no particular location. From the time of birth onward, this universal field of awareness is distorted by the flow of self-oriented thoughts, feelings and perceptions, as the attention of the individual becomes preoccupied with the body. The stream of discursive thinking flows continually through waking hours and into sleep, creating the dualistic experience of self and others, inside and outside, dreamer and dreaming. This continues throughout one's lifetime, and does not end with the death of the physical body; the experiences and visions which occur in the afterlife are similar to the dream state."

"In Search Of The Medicine Buddha" is Soma for those with a taste for the unfathomable. It's rich stuff. You won't read it's 369 pages at one sitting.

On one hand, I was annoyed that the book has no index. I like an index to refer back to and find things I've read. On the other hand, this is a book that you can open at any page and begin reading what catches your eye and then realize that you've been fascinated through twelve more pages. It's for browsing and grazing again and again.

Don Craig is a free-lance writer who lives with his wife Kathy in a 120-year-old farmhouse in Saranac, N.Y. in the foothills of the Adirondack Mountains "Saving and remodeling an old house like this is an exercise in patience, humility and detachment. Just like marriage."

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