tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24943415029041703072024-03-13T20:47:35.302-07:00Stumbling Into InfinityShravan Bharathulwarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08751043312194222791noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2494341502904170307.post-21029906204806791292013-02-25T01:15:00.000-08:002013-02-25T01:15:16.097-08:00Kumbh Mela 2013
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0YLzYzvxzbk/USsh5Cy5MTI/AAAAAAAAADQ/s4Tq4nvZoW8/s1600/IMG_0642.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0YLzYzvxzbk/USsh5Cy5MTI/AAAAAAAAADQ/s4Tq4nvZoW8/s1600/IMG_0642.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saint sitting on metal spicks over a hot open fire</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I knew I would be taking a risk if I went to Kumbh
Mela, the largest religious and spiritual gathering in the world.</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">I’d have a hard time adjusting to the rustic
accommodations. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Living in the open air under potential freezing weather </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">and poor hygiene would be a challenge for my delicate
stomach and compromised immune system. But with just a few of us in the car,
and Guruji saying yes to everyone that day, I had to ask. Without hesitation he
nodded his head and invited me to go.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I was told by one of the swamis
at our international center in Bangalore that this Kumbh Mela, </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">which happens once every 12 years in
Allahabad, </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">when Jupiter is in Aries and the sun and moon are in Capricorn, </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">is</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> considered to be the largest and
holiest of all the four destinations where Kumbh Mela takes place and is
believed to be the most auspicious. And that the Maha Kumbh Mela happening this
year takes place every 144 years! </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">More then 80 million people were expected to bathe in the </span><i><span style="font-family: Arial;">Triveni Sangam</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial;">, the place where the three most sacred
rivers of India — the Ganga, Yamuna, and Saraswati — converge. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Naga Babas by the side of the road in their pavilion </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I was excited that in just a few days I would be joining the <i>sadhus</i>, the </span><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">wandering monks who
mostly live in caves</span><span style="font-family: Arial;">, and the <i>naga babas</i>
(long-haired ascetics who never wear any clothes and are always smeared in
ash), for a holy dip in the <i>Sangam.</i>
It’s believed that bathing here frees one from all past sins, liberating one
from the cycle of birth and death.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hbV5OsuqIWY/USsmjJH4kCI/AAAAAAAAAEE/91TuispCFNw/s1600/IMG_0737.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hbV5OsuqIWY/USsmjJH4kCI/AAAAAAAAAEE/91TuispCFNw/s1600/IMG_0737.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A sea of saffron-clad seers</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; text-align: center;">Staying at the Art of Living camp with Guruji was fairly tame. It
was like being at the ashram in Bangalore back in the early 1990s. A crew of
volunteers arrived at the Kumbh several weeks before to build a temporary camp
for Guruji and his guests. Five of us from the U.S. squeezed into a makeshift
room with no place to store our luggage or to hang our things. Fortunately, no
one got electrocuted using the king size emersion coil we were given to heat
our bucket of water to bathe. There was no end to the noise that surrounded us.
Every group blasted Vedic chants or sermons throughout the day and night from
their temporary pavilion or ashram. If it wasn’t for my super heavy-duty wax
earplugs, I don’t think I would have gotten any sleep.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Guruji’s accommodations were very basic as well. Fortunately, it
was slightly quieter where he was, and he was able to have meetings with
numerous visiting swamis and devotees who came to be with him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">After the first night’s satsang, a few of us gathered in his room.
As usual, Guruji was giving out <i>prashad </i>(blessed
sweets), to the devotees. Guruji is well aware that I’m very strict about what
I eat and that I’ve been on a wheat-free, sugar-free, taste-free diet for some
time. Nevertheless, he offered me a <i>ladu</i>
(a kind of sweet), and said, “At Kumbh, we’ll just celebrate and take a
vacation from being on our diet.” And with that, he placed half the ladu in my
hand and popped the other half in his mouth. I ate it without hesitation, which
was completely uncharacteristic of me. Whether sweet, fried, or spicy — puris,
jalebis, samosas, and more — for the next five days, I ate everything that was
served to me. And much to my amazement, I was fine, completely fine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Guruji with the Shankaracharya of Govardhan Math, Puri</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">More fantastic than the miraculous digestive enzymatic fluids in
my intestines, was driving around the Kumbh with Guruji, visiting swamis and
saints from various branches and traditions. Several times a day, we drove
through a sea of people, down bumpy roads, watching exotic </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">saffron-clad
seers who looked like they were </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">lured out of their forest hideouts and
caves for a dip in the holy river. Guruji introduced us to numerous renowned
saints, including Swami </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Sri Nischalananda Saraswati</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> (the </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Shankaracharya
of Govardhan Math, Puri). The most blissful and endearing saint we visited was
Shri Rambhadracharya Ji, who lost his vision when he was 2 months old. He’s the
</span><span style="font-family: Arial;">founder and chancellor of Jagadguru Rambhadracharya Handicapped
University,</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> and has written more than 100 books. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">He blessed
all of us, and held Guruji’s hand and lovingly said, “Sri Sri is my brother. No — we are one soul in two bodies.”</span><span style="color: #424242; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shri Rambhadracharya & Guruji</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Besides visiting saints and taking our own dip in the river, we
had an opportunity to serve food to thousands who came to our camp for satsang
and darshan with Guruji. On the final day of our visit, we were forced to
abandon camp due to the unseasonal torrential downpour that flooded everything
at the Kumbh. Electricity went down and the </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Allahabad</span><span style="font-family: Arial;"> airport was closed. The only way to get back was to reroute
our flight through Varanasi. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I always wanted to visit
Varanasi (Benares), </span><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">considered by many to be the spiritual capital of India, and the
India’s oldest continuously inhabited city . </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">But I never expected that I would be going with Guruji to the</span><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"> Kashi Vishwanath Temple, considered the
most holy Shiva temple in the world. Many famous Hindu saints (including
Shankara and Tulsidas) have visited this temple, and Hindus consider a visit to
this temple and a dip in the Ganges to be acts that will lead to liberation.
Standing near Guruji in the inner sanctum watching the pundits do <i>abhishek</i> to the ancient Shiva Lingam
felt familiar and ancient. A tremendous amount of emotion welled up inside, and
I felt privileged to be there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oMwxO_GQtAo/USsqz51yyfI/AAAAAAAAAEs/p3IJJ9xAlHE/s1600/IMG_0780.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oMwxO_GQtAo/USsqz51yyfI/AAAAAAAAAEs/p3IJJ9xAlHE/s1600/IMG_0780.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Varanasi
and the Kumbh Mela were deeply moving experiences. Seeing multitudes of people
who journeyed to the Kumbh, spending their hard-earned money on train tickets,
walking endless miles with their improvised camping gear and meager possessions
on their back,s and sleeping under the stars just for an opportunity to dip in
the Sa</span><span style="font-family: Arial;">ngam, put life in perspective for me. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">It was another lesson,
a reminder of how much I had, and how little I needed to be happy; how every
moment in life can be filled with the divine presence. Gratitude and devotion
are amazing gifts, and being at the Kumbh ignited that in me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Perhaps
you were at this or another Kumbh Mela, or had a similar experience elsewhere.
I’d like to know how it was for you and what inspired you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05908687285613020835noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2494341502904170307.post-24021107280863298482012-08-21T13:12:00.003-07:002012-10-29T08:23:55.007-07:00Building a Community on the Level of the Heart<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <br />
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<!--EndFragment--><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F_Bh4rNRc1Y/UDPr1bwWU4I/AAAAAAAAABo/xvNywMcB8FE/s1600/Community%2B1.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5779222050062619522" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F_Bh4rNRc1Y/UDPr1bwWU4I/AAAAAAAAABo/xvNywMcB8FE/s320/Community%2B1.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 239px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:officedocumentsettings> <o:allowpng/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:drawinggridhorizontalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:drawinggridverticalspacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:dontautofitconstrainedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">A great yogi from another tradition, </span><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Yogi Berra (</span><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">the greatest catcher in baseball history)<span style="color: #262626;"> once said, "</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana;">If you don't know where you are going, you might wind up someplace else.”</span><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;"> I think this happens to many of us, as we float through life without much awareness or purpose. Well, at least that’s how it was for me for most of my early life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">In 1991, Sri Sri Ravi Shankar invited me to live at the Art of Living Foundation’s new international center in Bangalore India, which everyone there referred to as the ashram. Not having much of a clear direction in life, except for my great zeal to grow spiritually, I was off on a grand adventure. Before long, I became the ashram manager, a new position in the startup organization. The only people I had to manage, though, were a cook who had no culinary talent, a bus driver who had no sense of direction, the occasional plumber, and an electrician who charged a lot of money for work half done. The ashram staff consisted of a handful of Western volunteers who where constantly threatening to leave and a few local Indian devotees who came and went whenever they pleased. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">It was frustrating living without a proper staff, telephone service, and basic creature comforts like a hot shower or a comfortable bed. Yet I was lucky to interact with Sri Sri daily and to watch him magically transform barren land into what is now considered one of most flourishing spiritual centers in the world.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Now, twenty years later, I’m still at it. I’m no longer an ashram manager, but I’m at another startup. This time it’s the Art of Living’s International Center for Meditation and Well-Being, in the breathtakingly beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains of Boone, North Carolina. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: Arial; font-size: 100%;">Although </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 100%;">Brahman, the Supreme Self, <span style="color: #262626;">is felt throughout the campus, there are still many obstacles to overcome. Not having a clearly defined position, I question why Sri Sri has asked me to live here. How I can contribute?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">When I lived at the ashram in India I was more concerned about finding solutions to the physical challenges, but as I ponder my role in Boone my attention is on something subtler — learning the skill of creating a real sense of belonging, <i>creating community.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">Everyone at the center has a common bond, of course. We are all on the same spiritual path and committed to sharing a lifestyle that is enriched with human values and knowledge about the Self. Yet </span><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">everyone has a unique perspective on what this means. If dealt with unconsciously, these differences can sometimes lead to </span><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">disharmony or conflict. Before you know it, alignments form and politics begins. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 100%;">Sri Sri has said, “</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 100%;">When belongingness expands to include everyone, spirituality has grown.” </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 100%;">For this wonderful spot in Boone or for any local center to become a thriving spiritual oasis, we need to<span style="color: #262626;"> create an environment where the sense of </span>connectedness with each other is stronger than our differences of the moment; where people feel free enough to share and secure enough to get along. Otherwise our community will be limited to just eating meals together, group meditations, and working on service projects. The old ways of immediate </span><span style="color: #262626; font-family: Arial; font-size: 100%;">self-gratification, personal recognition, and adhering to fixed opinions cannot coexist in an environment where people are committed to building community.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: Arial; font-size: 100%;">I want to see the same miracle that happened in Bangalore happen in Boone. Not only on the physical level but also on the level of the heart. All that is needed is for each person to be willing to live with a high degree of personal integrity, openness, and vulnerability. It means being sensitive and considerate of other people’s feelings and expanding ones perspective by being open to feedback and being more cooperative with others. And it’s all very possible.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">The higher our prana, or life energy, the easier it is to act with this kind of feeling and awareness. So as obvious as it may sound, being regular with meditation and Sudarshan Kriya, eating properly, and all the other things we do that naturally make our prana and energy high are underlying secrets and advantages we can appreciate. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #262626; font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">I’d like to know what skills you’ve used to create more coherence in your community, how it has worked, and what has changed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05908687285613020835noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2494341502904170307.post-6387458290401447002012-08-11T20:58:00.000-07:002012-08-24T17:13:15.797-07:00The Fastest Man<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZN5ViJXuDr0/UCcouNHeOWI/AAAAAAAAABM/8UYd_U4Rdjs/s1600/Fastest+Man+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZN5ViJXuDr0/UCcouNHeOWI/AAAAAAAAABM/8UYd_U4Rdjs/s320/Fastest+Man+2.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">My South Indian wife is more
eclectic than traditional. She finds delight in rummaging through antiques to
decorate our apartment in what she calls <i>shabby
</i></span><i><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana;">chic</span></i><i><span style="font-family: Arial;">.</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial;"> She looks enchanted as she taps her foot to bluegrass music and the
blues. Most recently, her obsession has been watching Olympians compete for the
gold. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Between
the races, we watch the sports casters report about the life of the athletes. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana;">Oscar Pistorius, the
South African</span><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">
Olympic contender who </span><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">runs on prosthetic legs, had to overcome
many obstacles before the Olympic association would allow him to compete. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">American weightlifter
Sarah Robles</span><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Verdana; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"> was </span><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Georgia;">determined just to get to the London Olympics
while surviving on a $400-a-month award from USA Weightlifting the group that
oversees Olympic weightlifting in the United States. She barely had enough
money to eat. I’m touched by their stories, I feel raw and bare.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">“Aren’t you going to stay to
watch the race? To watch the fastest man in the world?” I enjoy my new life
with my wife, the many flavors, what we share. I want to stay and watch, but I
don’t. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">It’s not a lack of interest
in the superhuman ability of </span><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Usain Bolt as he speeds across the finish line that causes me to shrug
my shoulders and retire to another room. Nor is it the rekindled feelings of
inadequacy I had during my childhood for not being very coordinated or
athletic. The constant teasing from the other kids forced me to shy away from
almost all organized or competitive sports. I feel self-reflective as I watch
these athletes compete. I need some time to be alone, to go within. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Not
disturbed by the muffled sounds of cheering crowds from the TV my wife watches
in the other room, I huddle behind my computer screen. It has been a long time
since I have attempted to write. I doubt my abilities. I’ve been in a slump for
a while now. “I have too many responsibilities,” “I just got married,” “My
stars aren’t right,” were some of the excuses that played in my head. I allowed
fear to overshadow me too long. It turns out that what I write is not so
important. The act of typing itself opens possibilities for creativity to flow.
It’s like winning a race; I feel enthusiastic, fresh, and alive. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">It’s
only a few paragraphs, but I’m pleased. The experience is sweet; a sense of
surrender, being present. The Big Mind is in control again. I’m reminded that
my life is for others and that we are one and the same. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">My
Guru once told me that the Divine orchestrates the experiences we go through in
life so others can learn, be inspired, and forge ahead. It seems like it
doesn’t matter if you are committed to winning a marathon or just taking a few
baby step to get started again. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05908687285613020835noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2494341502904170307.post-72561341507301501872011-01-01T07:38:00.000-08:002011-01-01T07:55:59.927-08:00Endings & Beginnings<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v2YfA0IPnQo/TR9MfN23-yI/AAAAAAAAADI/yqZS3rQeyU8/s1600/42-26764218.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v2YfA0IPnQo/TR9MfN23-yI/AAAAAAAAADI/yqZS3rQeyU8/s320/42-26764218.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557244564377959202" /></a> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Arial">Endings and beginnings are inevitable. They are what our life is all about - transitions from something old to something new. Sometimes these transitions can be mysterious and exciting, and at others they can be fearful and regretful. Yet so often they are predictable and even boring. Saying goodbye to the old and hello to the new is a time for celebration. This is a time for learning, a time for introspection. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Arial">As I reflect back over this past year, I see so many transitions have taken place in my life. Most notably has been wearing the new and unfamiliar costume of a published author. Looking back, when I submitted the final version of my manuscript to the publisher I was overcome by a certain sadness. It was as though I was parting from an old friend. One who had been a source of much solace through all those years. I would sit down to write while having my morning tea and then stay up late into the nights working as I lay in bed. Now it was complete and would belong to the world. I could relate to the experience of </span><span style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:13.0pt; font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-weight:bold">postpartum depression </span><span style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Arial">that many mothers feel after giving birth. Creating the manuscript was so much a part of me and then, as if in a flash, it was gone.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Arial">Still, I had no time for nostalgia. I had to focus on the book release and my upcoming book tour. Thanks to countless dedicated volunteers who believed in me and in the message of the book, I was soon to embark on a fourteen-city tour. Surprisingly, after being a teacher for so many years and training others in public speaking, I was at a loss for words. I could not speak at my first event. Although I was able to pen down my life story, I felt uncomfortable articulating it publicly. To find my voice while standing before a crowd felt like something of an ordeal. I was so conditioned to sharing knowledge in a particular way, I wasn’t sure how to speak about my own journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Arial">I was in a mini crisis. Yet it wasn’t unfamiliar to be in this situation. I realized that once again I had to let go of something old to embrace something new. Of course I was able to move through it. I learned to be more intimate, open with the audience, and at the same time teach and inspire them. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Arial">Reflecting on all this as the New Year approaches, I see there is a false sense of security in clinging to what I know or what I have done. Unless I let go of the past, I’m unable to move forward and allow new gifts to come. In this spirit, I would like to invite you to share what is happening in your lives. Maybe you’re thinking of some resolutions to uplift yourself or those around you. What are your plans for the New Year? What are you holding on to that you need to let go of? What do you need to do to help yourself grow?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Arial">Wishing all the best for the year to come. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2494341502904170307.post-57528834029200358052010-12-01T05:50:00.000-08:002011-01-01T08:03:42.824-08:00Finding Purpose<div style="Times New Roman",serif;font-family:Georgia,";"><span style="font-size:small;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_v2YfA0IPnQo/TPZS0YFJquI/AAAAAAAAAC0/qXazBwl1x5I/s1600/Purpose.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545711050924075746" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_v2YfA0IPnQo/TPZS0YFJquI/AAAAAAAAAC0/qXazBwl1x5I/s320/Purpose.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 221px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></a></span> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:Georgia,";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The journey to find one’s purpose is very personal and different for everyone. It gives expression, depth, and meaning to life.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:Georgia,";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One thing that may help us find our purpose is to recognize that we are all similar while also very different and individual. Like snowflakes, under a microscope, each one of us has our own unique pattern.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:Georgia,";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:Georgia,";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:Georgia,";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Most people feel they are unique and have a special role to play — a purpose. It’s natural. Yet this feeling can be a double-edged sword. It can unfold hidden talents and we can become more creative. Or our uniqueness, the feeling of being special, can swell our ego and cause us to feel separate, competitive, and stressed. Perceiving oneself as being different can also lead to feeling imperfect and incomplete, not good enough as we are. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:Georgia,";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The ego’s remedy is to pursue the path of action. By acquiring or accomplishing things, “then I’ll be OK, I’ll be happy.” It’s similar to being in kindergarten looking for approval after making a finger painting. We would run to our mothers with such anticipation and say, “See what I made, Mommy!”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:Georgia,";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:Georgia,";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:Georgia,";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In the pursuit of fulfillment, many people become more frustrated, restless, and dissatisfied. And they believe that they will be fulfilled when they finally find their true purpose. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:Georgia,";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I think it’s the other way around. Purpose is what we do in the present, not a goal to strive for in the future. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:Georgia,";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I’ve found that I’m more creative and peaceful when I’m aware that there can be no other purpose than to do what I am doing. During these times I’m not looking for fulfillment or joy, I’m just being — relaxed, alert, and in the moment. When I’m engaged this way my intellect stops. I’m not searching for something more. In such moments, I can glimpse the unbounded consciousness that I am. I observe how this same consciousness has taken physical form to express its divinity through me, through the creative impulses that flow in and out of me. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:Georgia,";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We are the unique expression of the Divine consciousness. We are here on this planet to contribute to others in our own distinct way. It could be through writing computer code, saving the environment, or writing a spiritual memoir. Still, our outer purpose should not be confused with what is within. Our inner purpose is the same. To just be. </span></span><o:p></o:p></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2494341502904170307.post-80521917047592228102010-11-22T13:17:00.000-08:002010-12-01T04:27:02.808-08:00Another Night<div style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 95%;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v2YfA0IPnQo/TOreTtWGy_I/AAAAAAAAACs/6ebD4Fc2cZA/s1600/Speaking.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542486721604013042" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v2YfA0IPnQo/TOreTtWGy_I/AAAAAAAAACs/6ebD4Fc2cZA/s200/Speaking.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 200px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 154px;" /></a></span> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 95%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Another night in another bookstore. The room filled to capacity. Eagerly my prospective readers wait, eyes fixed to the podium. Tonight they are inquisitive, “Why did you write this book? What was the creative process like? Does everyone need a Guru? What’s next?”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 95%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">I’ve heard these questions so often I have time to think. I wonder who they see? Is it the writer, the teacher, the president of a non-profit organization, a seeker? Is it me? Feeling some distance, I let go and come back to the moment. I smile and answer as best as I can. I wait for the right moment to share some knowledge about the mind, emotions and breath. They want more. “What about conflict? How do you not get into conflict with co-workers or people who just keep pushing you into an argument?” </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 95%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">I respond evenly, “No one can make you do something you don’t want to do. Choose not to fight.” The crowd looks intrigued. “You can’t fight someone who doesn’t want to fight. It would be like fighting with yourself? Maybe that’s the sound of one hand clapping.” I think of explaining, saying something more. Maybe my answer was not enough? Have I left them confused?</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 95%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">No one says a word.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 95%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">I stand in an ocean of stillness, feeling the grace of Sri Sri, my mentor. I’m reminded of his words and feel calm inside. “Don’t be the doer,” he has told me. “It is not what you say or do, it is your presence that makes a difference.”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:95%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">There is an undeniable peace in the room. It seems like a good time for us to meditate. My audience is content and settles deep within. After the talk, I’m whisked away for a more intimate gathering with the local volunteers. Without them this event could not have come together. As I sit with them I am in awe, observing how people attracted to Sri Sri’s knowledge </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span">are drawn from such disparate sources</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span">. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 95%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Throughout my visit, the volunteers share their insights and personal anecdotes. They share their own treasures, causing me to wonder, who is teaching whom? </span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2494341502904170307.post-60232918756281729552010-11-10T11:27:00.001-08:002010-11-10T11:29:31.945-08:00Nirvana<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_v2YfA0IPnQo/TNryIZxdmfI/AAAAAAAAACk/Vn2lpraPJxo/s1600/Video%2BGames.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_v2YfA0IPnQo/TNryIZxdmfI/AAAAAAAAACk/Vn2lpraPJxo/s200/Video%2BGames.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538004917976668658" /></a> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial">I think the state of nirvana we are striving for, and the pitfalls we experience along the way, are not unlike a mission to become a champion video game player. Dodging attacks from mutant alien warriors, you fight to survive and protect yourself and your home base. </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">The first wave of aliens doesn’t seem that nasty. They move fairly slowly and you’re able to avoid their arsenal of bombs and bullets. You take your time, aim, and shoot. You’re proud that you’ve won your first challenge. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">This is just the beginning. You find the second, third and fourth levels prove to be more challenging. Showing no mercy, the mutants are almost impossible to avoid now. They move more swiftly and have more accurate lasers. Your only defense is to scurry away from their attacks as you fire uninterrupted streams of ammunition at whatever comes in your way. Still, you survive. In fact you win. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Times">You gain a certain confidence and start taking more and more </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Georgia">uncalculated risks. You fall and get captured. You lose your status as a rising master warrior and get exiled to a deserted planet. There you meet a </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 13.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Courier">wise and benevolent</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Georgia"> wizard who instructs you in a greater strategy for the</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Times"> battlefield. He teaches you to move carefully, evading enemy fire. He urges you to trust your own intuition. You’re ready to take on the mutants once again. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Georgia"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:Times">Yet this time as you play, you realize that being relaxed and in the moment you become </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt; font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Georgia">an entirely new class of warrior. You become faster, stronger and more resilient. Your skill improves and you instinctively know your enemy’s moves. You fight harder and smarter and quickly climb through higher levels of the video game ladder. </span><span style="font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Winning or making it to the finish line is not a goal for you anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You enjoy playing the game. It gives you the </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Georgia">feeling of being an empowered and invincible superhero. And then, </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana; mso-bidi-font-weight:bold">Eureka! The screen lights up like it’s the Fourth of July. You’ve reached the highest score possible and become “Super Video Game Master!” Still, it is not the end. D</span><span style="font-family:Arial">odging attacks from mutant aliens and protecting your home base is</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:16.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana; mso-bidi-font-weight:bold"> still very exciting. There’s no choice. You continue to play.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial">As a novice or maven your activity remains the same. On the surface it seems like nothing has changed. Yet from the level of experience it is a completely different game. Perhaps there is some truth to the old Buddhist saying, “Before enlightenment you chop wood and carry water. After enlightenment, you chop wood and carry water.” It is not what we do but how we do it. The easiest way to be on the spiritual path is to no longer look to accomplish anything or strive for a goal. Instead the way we move on the path can become the goal. </span><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2494341502904170307.post-23489921641358231262010-11-02T10:14:00.000-07:002010-11-02T10:18:02.734-07:00Like a Robot<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v2YfA0IPnQo/TNBHPYOYEiI/AAAAAAAAABY/jZplhtHDpO0/s1600/Robat+3.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v2YfA0IPnQo/TNBHPYOYEiI/AAAAAAAAABY/jZplhtHDpO0/s320/Robat+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535002271564698146" /></a> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Arial">Yesterday, a podcast of a </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">weekly radio show,</span><span style="font-family:Arial"> made me think about how nature can structure balance and knowledge in our life.</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Arial"> The show I was listening to was NPR’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">This </i></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span style="font-family:Arial">American Life.</span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:Arial"> There’s usually a theme to each episode and a variety of stories on that theme. They are mostly true stories about everyday people. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">This week’s show was about people who were held hostage in various ways. The last segment was about a man who held captive by love. Matt, a 39-year-old professor and neuroscientist, has strange attacks during which his muscles get heavy, he loses control and is eventually unable to move. These attacks can last up to two hours and can happen several times a day. He has fallen down stairs, cannot drive, and police and paramedics have had to come to his aid many times. Matt has </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 19.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-weight:bold">narcolepsy with cataplexy. Over a million people suffer from this disease, which causes </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">a sudden loss of muscle control while awake. The attacks are usually triggered by strong positive emotions. So for the last four years, whenever Matt experiences compassion, happiness, love or other positive feelings, he becomes completely paralyzed. He can’t even pet a puppy without collapsing. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">This disease has affected his marriage, his family and social life. To adapt, Matt has trained himself to be like a robot. He doesn’t engage himself emotionally. He tries to enjoy things less and keeps a lid on his enthusiasm. On the radio show he explains that no matter how hard he tries to control his environment and emotions, he can’t avoid happiness. It finds him no matter what.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">I have no idea what Matt’s karma is, but his reaction is extreme. Yet strong emotions do overwhelm most people</span><span style="font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">. They just get paralyzed in less obvious ways. </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt; font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">E</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 17.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Arial">xperiences are often a portal, an opportunity to bring us back into balance and give us wisdom.</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana"> We usually think that part of spiritual development is not getting un-centered when feelings or situations we consider negative arise. Rarely do we make this assumption when it comes to feelings we enjoy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Arial; mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">Sri Sri has often explained that the </span><span style="font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:AGaramondPro-Regular;mso-font-width: 93%">peak of all feeling takes you inward</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Verdana">. Being centered is realizing the source of joy is not in the objects or people outside, it is within. It seems that if someone was in touch with their source of joy at all times, they wouldn’t be thrown off when a strong emotion is triggered from outside. It would be no more than the ripple of a wave across the ocean. </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-size:17.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Arial"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Arial"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2494341502904170307.post-80776698056937772532010-10-26T13:54:00.000-07:002010-10-26T13:58:01.619-07:00Stories<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_v2YfA0IPnQo/TMdAV7QWqEI/AAAAAAAAABI/ROUfUhlHpKY/s1600/Stories.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_v2YfA0IPnQo/TMdAV7QWqEI/AAAAAAAAABI/ROUfUhlHpKY/s320/Stories.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532461412675659842" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:15px;"><b> <!--StartFragment--> </b></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><b><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">It is gratifying to see people inspired by my stories and experiences, but what I have been through is no more or less valuable than your own spiritual journey. Everyone who embarks on a spiritual path has a unique story to tell. In my life, spending so much time in the presence of Sri Sri has been a true blessing and something I wanted to share with others. Still it is just a story. Stories can be a trap for the mind. Often our narratives cause us to feel “I am special because this happened to me” or “He is so special because that happened to him.” These are merely expressions of ego. They take us out of the present moment by glorifying the past. This is what separates us from others. The more we get caught up in our own story and the more we are entangled in notions of “I am special” or “I am inferior,” the more we perpetuate our own dramas and stray from the truth. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Yet there are plenty of purposes a narrative can serve. Stories can be a way of getting closer to others and bonding. Old friends and family members often reminisce about the past. This fosters a sense of connection, of history. Many times though, we tell stories of the past either to brag and feel important or to reinforce despair and self-doubt. It is far more valuable to simply become aware of the perpetual story that we are telling ourselves. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Observe how this constant chattering in the mind becomes your identity. Without this story, who would you be? We weave such intricate notions of who we are, what we like, what we can or cannot do in life. We label ourselves. I am a parent. I have this profession. I meditate. I cannot meditate. This story of “I am somebody” is the source of human suffering. It perpetuates the feeling of being separate from others and from our own unbounded consciousness. It provides a false sense of satisfaction and makes us complacent. It can also be a way to remain a victim. This strong identification with being “somebody” often brings us into a space of complaint. We wring our hands over situations that have already happened and can never be changed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Life is filled with stories. The skill comes in when we stay away from labeling ourselves as either hero or villain, winner or loser. Spiritual knowledge can save you from getting lost in your role or identity. It provides an awareness for you to shift, to move away from the story of changing events and circumstances to that which is non-changing, constant and ever-present. It helps you to relinquish the story, your attachment to the narrative of your own life. If there is one key lesson to learn in life, this is it. And it is one I myself am still grappling with and learning to understand.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">It is so rare to hear Sri Sri tell a personal story. My sense is that he does not identify himself as a protagonist. He is not the leading character who gets submerged in the drama. The consciousness, which is without beginning or end, is so expansive it is as though his past has dissolved in the present. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:11.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">If you are still waiting to meet your true spiritual teacher, don’t worry. Have patience. Enjoy reading and listening to the stories of others knowing that your time will also come. There will be some moment when the </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">satguru,</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"> the true spiritual teacher, physically appears in ones life. For many that moment has already occurred. For others, it is just around the corner. If you have met your true spiritual teacher, rejoice and inspire those around you. Tell your story with love, devotion and humor so that others may be inspired to walk this path too.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </b></span><p></p><div><b><span style=" ;font-size:11pt;"><br /></span></b></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2494341502904170307.post-58721847411398810362010-10-19T07:44:00.000-07:002010-10-19T08:03:09.408-07:00In a Moment of Silence<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v2YfA0IPnQo/TL2vTW6PebI/AAAAAAAAAA4/aSwqWHfcNEQ/s1600/Stumbling+Photo+1.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_v2YfA0IPnQo/TL2vTW6PebI/AAAAAAAAAA4/aSwqWHfcNEQ/s320/Stumbling+Photo+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529768664583076274" /></a> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">As I stand behind a microphone, amid walls of books, and in a moment of silence during a book-tour talk, a seventyish grey-haired man rises to ask, “Where does this lead us?” With soft eyes, he speaks with sincerity, intent on getting an answer. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Some people are restless, fidgeting in their chair. Others wait in anticipation. A young Latino man who greeted me when I entered the bookstore leans forward in his chair, rests his elbows on his knees and cradles his head in his hands. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">There are no thoughts in my mind only stillness. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“There is no place to go,” I say. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">The audience laughs, the grey-haired man winces at me, confused. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">“You already have what you’re seeking,” I explain. “The practices are only a way to be in the now, for accepting, for removing the craving for joy in the future. You are not going anywhere, you are only uncovering what’s there.” The grey-haired man nods his head with understanding eyes. The young Latino sits back in his chair, crosses his arms in front of his chest, and smiles. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Only an hour earlier I had been questioning why I would be traveling around the country on this book tour. I was wishing instead to be in the presence of my teacher and mentor, Sri Sri. It is the fourth night of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Navaratri,</i> the auspicious Hindu festival honoring Mother Divine. Sri Sri is in silence at the Bangalore ashram with 30,000 people who have come to participate in the yagnas, ancient Vedic rituals that reverberate vibrations of peace. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I observe myself standing before a small crowd, gathered to hear about the book I have written.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Elated, I now marvel at the knowledge flowing from me. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">At the end of the talk, I sign books and share Sri Sri’s blessings. A tall athletic man who is built like a linebacker approaches me. “I never heard about you or your book. But when I saw the flyer, I knew I had to come.” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">How could he?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Besides Art of Living members, a few friends, and family, no one knew about my book. I didn’t say a word; I just smiled and nodded. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">During the few minutes that we chat, the linebacker holds my hand. He tells me how he appreciated my talk. For many years he felt inadequate with people and wanted more meaning and purpose in his life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As he waits for me to sign his book, he asks if I think the Art of Living Course will help. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Like the grey-haired man’s question, I’m not sure where this book tour will lead me, but it is clear that it is a great vehicle for sharing Sri Sri’s knowledge. Many who are coming to my book events are seekers who long for a way home. I’m honored that I can play a role in their journey. </p> <!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3