TOOL-KIT IN CONSCIOUSNESS, EVOLUTIONARY WORKSHOP
God, in-dwells, in the smallest imaginable details. Train an electron microscope on a Tradescantia, a commonn enough house-plant, known commonly as wandering Jew, and it faithfully reflects our own image back through the 1000's of tiny lens-eye's that "watch" through through surface of each leaf-blade.
Then, gradually bit-by-bit it dawns, nothing "happens" outside. It's our fourth-dimensional response "eye", "inside." Each must select their own spot source for, insight. It's like a mega-mall you enter. You, must know what you wish to pick off the shelf. Look where you will. There are countless super-fertile spots awaiting re-discovery.
Why does the complex, fascinate us?Try not to allow the ever-present paradox to throw you off-balance; derive deeper, wisdom, and take comfort from its's immaculate working.
Remaining centered, grounded, and on-track.This moment the earth hurtles through space at a mind-numbing, gravity-defying, super-velocity. Yet, can you sense a minutest bump? And should you be seated in the luxurious confines of a super-svelte Rolls-Royce, limousine you would, feel, though ever so slight, the odd jump. Power from the beyond flows copiously through ordinary sights and sounds.
Only, Natures Way is extra-ordinary.
And here is man, with a galaxy of systems and methods at his disposal. A multitude of centres well-versed in speaking on the transcendental, and the like. Moreover, in the midst of the stunning beauty, around, there are some who say: "Where are the answers." "I'm bored." "Or, where shall i search." This, saps you of your vital wonder-generating fluids.Somewhere in the blue beyond an eagle, wheels, with graceful mastery on an invisible thermal. Not a precious moment has it to spare on meaningless, banter.
So, when a butterfly whirrs its wings, sipping lustily nectar off a lotus on Dal Lake, it creates an instant and corresponding, ripple, at the far-flung spots of the cosmos. I once marvelled at a film where a beautiful structure was built by engineers, as a tribute to the supra-ingenuity of ants. For years they studied the hard-working ants on the ant-hill. The super-structure fashioned by the ants, i felt, was far superior, in proportion and symmetry. That an ant's thinking apparatus is infinitely smaller than a pin-point, does not boogle my mind, but re-awaken me to wonder with added, super-appreciation.
These small (re-read as momentous) diecoveries warm my heart; open Spirit's Gate, merging me with the beyond, within...Split-second timing govers our universe.An opera commensing in Rome, is timed to this centrall-orchestrated, cadense. This sentence, is also linked to THAT very, pulse. Feel, yourself as a vital key, pre-orchestrated into a timing as sacred. Cosmic conjgruence is timed to an all-knowing rhythym. Place yourself, full, in the stream of this flow to sense the transcendence. 'Know,' during all moments, that higher Presence move in all you do. During those, rare, moments you find yourself in tune with the Infinite. I sense a vaster picture, evolve.
As a drop re-melts into a rivulet, losing its limited identity, and becoming the river. Till it sheds, even that re-awakens to merge with a greater, ocean. A greater, "find" i find hard to perceive, let alone fathom.Yes, in "losing" surely arrives, silent an ultimate "gain." Cosmic wholeness.The final course you chart your compass to, will be rewards and secrets unique only to you.
Cyrus jehangir Sataravalla
India
9823110144
Sunday, June 1, 2008
AUM SAINATH: SUPERNATURAL HAT-TRICK
Super-synchronicity, coincidence and the super-Natural have embraced, most intimately each area of my life. I have come to trust these near-mysterious forces with abiding faith.
Events such as these have evolved into the work i do. Put another way that i can more humbly recognize, my work, is a direct result of the force. Only, through such forces. For me, the oft-used adage 'needle-in-a-haystack' becomes redundant. Meaningless. Obsolete.
A lost 'needle' will literally "find" you. At an opportune moment the self-steering compass-needle of serendipity will bring back to you what seemed impossible.
Whatever is "yours," will "find" and wend its way to you with super-certainity. Does not a single self-aware sperm, "know" how to "mate" with THAT One ready, ova?The feeling, of this ever-revealing cosmic congruence as natural, as a bird's passage through to the ether.I share with you just three encounterss, in my life, triggered through supra-synchronicity. They, continue, to touch my life daily.
Yet, the memory of the 3 flare up jewel-bright.
Absolutely, indelible has been its influence. As every stone of a river-bed must bear total testimony to the river that flowed over it. Each of these meaningful encounters has cut an unforgettable, goove, in my mind, along a swift-flowing river that wends it's way, within my being.As a pre-cursor to the Hat-trick hows this for super-synchronicity, or what many term as mere co-incidence?
In 1977 when i was 18 all 5-feet of my large intestine were cut-off. After a gruelling 11-hour Marathon life-threatning surgery. Once again in 1992 2-feet of my small gut had to be removed.Prior to 2004 for 8-years, i was entirely engaged, night and day writing a book on Thought-Forces. It became an irrevocable vow that virtually took over my life. A superior-most, unfathomable need for writing and writing. When the 1000-page book was finally published, minus my intestinal guts the book's title self-arose, intuitively with lightening certainity: "BEYOND-GUTS." I applied for a "BEYOND-GUTS" Trade-Mark, which i received.
In the winter of 1966 when my Father was Commandant I.M.A. we were fishing for mahseer at Dhalipur. Before i knew it, to my utter consternation the expensive fishing-rod fell out my hands. Hook line and reel. Swirling currents engulfrd them forever. My Father was livid. A full month later our shikari guide Nathu, arrived, at our home.An up-to-something smile playing upon his face. In his hands was the prized cream-and-maroon Shakespeare rod.
Nathu said he came upon it, miles down-stream washed ashore upon a sand-bank. We spent a better part of a week playing around in our mind;s the permutations, sequences that led to it's miraculous, re-recovery.That, Nathu happened to be along that one stretch of the river was just One. That his eye saw it, another. Beyond rational comphrension. Yet, the universe is most adept at re-uniting what belongs to each of us. Once again, in 1970 while driving with my parents towards Raniknet. At Almora, my health took a turn for the worse. It did no take any ESP to know She was engaged in fervent prayer. The one, and only wish in Her mind, was if my Delhi Dr. Prof. Tandon was there. Delhi's AIIMS Hospital was many 100-km's away.
Even as my Father turned the Ambassador car, along a swerving hair-pin bend, right before us was an AIIMS Ambulance. Inside was a beaming Prof B.N. Tandon. Her "wish-you-were-here" prayer had been heard.
I might add, at Delhi even with a prior appointment, it was not easy to meet the busy Professor.
The third encounter to my mind was the most significent. The year was 1979 and i was a student at St.Stephen's College. My Father one ordinary day, summoned me to His side.Gauging from his expression and the timbre of his tone it was bound to be a matter of grave import. Little, did my mind fathom then that extra-odrinary events were to ensue. The room resonated with a vibration. An energy-filed as when a prayer-bell is truck. A sacred 'ringing,' permeated the room. Then he said: "Its, time you wore my ring." The blood from my heart travelled through my brain, as though asecret valve had opened. It was a sacred, ancestral, ring of my Grand Father Tehmurasp. More than just a ring, it continues to hold a place in our hearts' beyond any family heirloom. He burnt yet another thought, like a great Seal waxed as a permanent imprint upon my young, and impressionable brain:"The ring is a symbol and link with our ancestors. The vibrations encoded, within, will guide, and protect you whenever you call upon them." Before i could even utter my profound gratitude he clasped in an embrace.The next moment i found myself in the far-spreading Deer Park. It was winter in Delhi and darkness fell abruptly. Silent and swift. I roamed its vast precincts with child-like abandon. Even as i was ringing my door-bell, i looked terror-stricken at my middle-finger.
The ring had gone. Vanished. It lay silent, mute, somewhere in the cavernous brooding confines of the park.I summoned up my nerve and in a flash that seemed like light-years decided to blurt out to Father the shocking truth; "I lost the ring, Father." was all i could utter.
My Father's far-seeing high-minded response, stunned me yet further. With supreme Presence of mind and certainity (yaqeen) in an ice-cool tone He said: "We "Will" find it first thing in the morning."
My thumping heart regained some composure. This was not the only time that Father had displayed His immense kindness, justice and intuition. Come dawn i leapt out of bed with a new-found energy.We entered the park, together. It spread out intimidating, like the tentacles of a never-ending octopus. At that moment a flood of sunlight spilled upon us from a break in the sky. As we combed the park, crowning a tuft of dew-slaked grass, an unmistakable glitter greeted us, simultaneously.
We could pin-point, the ring as jewel-bright rays bounced off its mirror-clear surface.More than gleam the ring winked re-assuringly at me. No profound words were excanged. His sparkling eagle-eyes said it all. The feeling in me was no less than what Columbus experienced when he chanced upon America.To this moment, as you read, the ring is an eye-witness. A re-reminder and and living testimony that the realm of supersynchronicity, supra-coincidence and the Super-Natural are forces i will always cherish. Trust. Depend on. Listen-in to.
Learn continually from. It will remain a real-life example that stands out in my mind up-to-now. Often i saw Father us it as a sealing device. The beautiful outline of its heart-shape etched clearly sharply on the envelope. More importantly, it's deeper message remains indelibly engraved as a sacred-most testimony in my brain. Wreathed and entwined into an inseperable, oneness. I clasp with reverance the blessing and guidance of my Father Jangu, and my fore-Fathers. A circle of protection and super-sonic power to this moment.
The universe is happiest co-creating many more such miracles in each of our lives. Your joy in recognizing each meaningful miracle holds the key-insight for the cosmos to beam-back many more. Especially for you.
When the so-called dead, can commune one-on-one. It taught me not to search else where, for what already lives, within...
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla9823110144
Events such as these have evolved into the work i do. Put another way that i can more humbly recognize, my work, is a direct result of the force. Only, through such forces. For me, the oft-used adage 'needle-in-a-haystack' becomes redundant. Meaningless. Obsolete.
A lost 'needle' will literally "find" you. At an opportune moment the self-steering compass-needle of serendipity will bring back to you what seemed impossible.
Whatever is "yours," will "find" and wend its way to you with super-certainity. Does not a single self-aware sperm, "know" how to "mate" with THAT One ready, ova?The feeling, of this ever-revealing cosmic congruence as natural, as a bird's passage through to the ether.I share with you just three encounterss, in my life, triggered through supra-synchronicity. They, continue, to touch my life daily.
Yet, the memory of the 3 flare up jewel-bright.
Absolutely, indelible has been its influence. As every stone of a river-bed must bear total testimony to the river that flowed over it. Each of these meaningful encounters has cut an unforgettable, goove, in my mind, along a swift-flowing river that wends it's way, within my being.As a pre-cursor to the Hat-trick hows this for super-synchronicity, or what many term as mere co-incidence?
In 1977 when i was 18 all 5-feet of my large intestine were cut-off. After a gruelling 11-hour Marathon life-threatning surgery. Once again in 1992 2-feet of my small gut had to be removed.Prior to 2004 for 8-years, i was entirely engaged, night and day writing a book on Thought-Forces. It became an irrevocable vow that virtually took over my life. A superior-most, unfathomable need for writing and writing. When the 1000-page book was finally published, minus my intestinal guts the book's title self-arose, intuitively with lightening certainity: "BEYOND-GUTS." I applied for a "BEYOND-GUTS" Trade-Mark, which i received.
In the winter of 1966 when my Father was Commandant I.M.A. we were fishing for mahseer at Dhalipur. Before i knew it, to my utter consternation the expensive fishing-rod fell out my hands. Hook line and reel. Swirling currents engulfrd them forever. My Father was livid. A full month later our shikari guide Nathu, arrived, at our home.An up-to-something smile playing upon his face. In his hands was the prized cream-and-maroon Shakespeare rod.
Nathu said he came upon it, miles down-stream washed ashore upon a sand-bank. We spent a better part of a week playing around in our mind;s the permutations, sequences that led to it's miraculous, re-recovery.That, Nathu happened to be along that one stretch of the river was just One. That his eye saw it, another. Beyond rational comphrension. Yet, the universe is most adept at re-uniting what belongs to each of us. Once again, in 1970 while driving with my parents towards Raniknet. At Almora, my health took a turn for the worse. It did no take any ESP to know She was engaged in fervent prayer. The one, and only wish in Her mind, was if my Delhi Dr. Prof. Tandon was there. Delhi's AIIMS Hospital was many 100-km's away.
Even as my Father turned the Ambassador car, along a swerving hair-pin bend, right before us was an AIIMS Ambulance. Inside was a beaming Prof B.N. Tandon. Her "wish-you-were-here" prayer had been heard.
I might add, at Delhi even with a prior appointment, it was not easy to meet the busy Professor.
The third encounter to my mind was the most significent. The year was 1979 and i was a student at St.Stephen's College. My Father one ordinary day, summoned me to His side.Gauging from his expression and the timbre of his tone it was bound to be a matter of grave import. Little, did my mind fathom then that extra-odrinary events were to ensue. The room resonated with a vibration. An energy-filed as when a prayer-bell is truck. A sacred 'ringing,' permeated the room. Then he said: "Its, time you wore my ring." The blood from my heart travelled through my brain, as though asecret valve had opened. It was a sacred, ancestral, ring of my Grand Father Tehmurasp. More than just a ring, it continues to hold a place in our hearts' beyond any family heirloom. He burnt yet another thought, like a great Seal waxed as a permanent imprint upon my young, and impressionable brain:"The ring is a symbol and link with our ancestors. The vibrations encoded, within, will guide, and protect you whenever you call upon them." Before i could even utter my profound gratitude he clasped in an embrace.The next moment i found myself in the far-spreading Deer Park. It was winter in Delhi and darkness fell abruptly. Silent and swift. I roamed its vast precincts with child-like abandon. Even as i was ringing my door-bell, i looked terror-stricken at my middle-finger.
The ring had gone. Vanished. It lay silent, mute, somewhere in the cavernous brooding confines of the park.I summoned up my nerve and in a flash that seemed like light-years decided to blurt out to Father the shocking truth; "I lost the ring, Father." was all i could utter.
My Father's far-seeing high-minded response, stunned me yet further. With supreme Presence of mind and certainity (yaqeen) in an ice-cool tone He said: "We "Will" find it first thing in the morning."
My thumping heart regained some composure. This was not the only time that Father had displayed His immense kindness, justice and intuition. Come dawn i leapt out of bed with a new-found energy.We entered the park, together. It spread out intimidating, like the tentacles of a never-ending octopus. At that moment a flood of sunlight spilled upon us from a break in the sky. As we combed the park, crowning a tuft of dew-slaked grass, an unmistakable glitter greeted us, simultaneously.
We could pin-point, the ring as jewel-bright rays bounced off its mirror-clear surface.More than gleam the ring winked re-assuringly at me. No profound words were excanged. His sparkling eagle-eyes said it all. The feeling in me was no less than what Columbus experienced when he chanced upon America.To this moment, as you read, the ring is an eye-witness. A re-reminder and and living testimony that the realm of supersynchronicity, supra-coincidence and the Super-Natural are forces i will always cherish. Trust. Depend on. Listen-in to.
Learn continually from. It will remain a real-life example that stands out in my mind up-to-now. Often i saw Father us it as a sealing device. The beautiful outline of its heart-shape etched clearly sharply on the envelope. More importantly, it's deeper message remains indelibly engraved as a sacred-most testimony in my brain. Wreathed and entwined into an inseperable, oneness. I clasp with reverance the blessing and guidance of my Father Jangu, and my fore-Fathers. A circle of protection and super-sonic power to this moment.
The universe is happiest co-creating many more such miracles in each of our lives. Your joy in recognizing each meaningful miracle holds the key-insight for the cosmos to beam-back many more. Especially for you.
When the so-called dead, can commune one-on-one. It taught me not to search else where, for what already lives, within...
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla9823110144
Saturday, May 31, 2008
AUM SAINATH: COMPELLING SEQUENCE IN CHAOS
One truth, i trust, over any other. We might not teach clouds to float. Eagles to self-soar. Nature needs not the slightest aid from man. We need to re-align and stream-line the self with the sanguine stream of consciousness.
To the all-revealing symmetry of the cosmos.
Chaos, like order, self-arises from a thought in mind. Keep in-tune with your ever-rising thermals that, uplift.If, you wish to self-soar, than first remember to keep every other thought out of your mind.
What, appears dis-orderly, at first, has order as well. Gaze behind the apperance of things. While observing, intimately a bee-hive i was awe-struck by the outward buzz. What seems, to an un-trained eye as a swarming, out-of-order mass, swirling helter-skelter. An indisciplined, frenzied rush. Closer, more minute observation reveals a bee-hive hums, to a superbly structured, ultra-specific, well-orchestrated harmonious path.
"Busy as a bee," or "Bee in your bonnet" is self-edident witness to their ingenious, industry. Legend has it that the pervasive, re-sounding "humm" that emanates is closest to the reverberating, re-echoing cosmic motor, the primordial sound of God.
George Gurdjieff's insight, startles and awakens instantly: "We have more strength than we think. But we never make use of it. We have all experienced that Second Wind, when everything at first seems hopeless, and then all of a sudden a new energy arrives in you. You recognize, here, that ordinary efforts do not count.Only "Super-efforts," count. And so it is in everything. Gurdjieff went on: "It is better to die making efforts than to live in sleep."
That, Herculean effort beyond you own effort, is the sacred point where the subtler confluence of SPIRIT swings wide-open all-new Gatesways, in you. Gates, that were long-forgotten, rusted. Shut-tight. It is here that the spiritual slow-revolving wheel, turns in your favour.Along the wheel of spirit your efforts, elicit, inspiration from a Higher Source. Your tiny wave-tops, begin to gather mighty momentum and grow into tumultous unstoppable ever-rising wave-crests of actualization. Natural. Spontaneous.I'm reminded of one of the greatest-ever composers. Genius, Julius Sibelius. In Finland called the uncrowned king. Once whilst speaking of the forces that shape our lives Julius said: "I have always considered life as though it was a piece of solid granite," making his forehead and luminous classical features appear like a granite-statue miraculously come alive. "You take the chisel of will-power and carve the granite. To have a design ready before you start is essential as it is to have a sharp chisel. It is within you, within the power of us all, to get both these requirements."
From my cars wind-screen I once, witnessed a flurry of leaf-blades, dry and green, blown about by a gust of wind, formulating slowly-emerging sequence, patterns. I watched, transfixed the beauty that kept emerging. They, swirled to a timing, an order, known best and ONLY to them. At first it appeared they flew hap-hazard.
Closer, inspection revealed super-synchronicity. Each leaf-tip and blade was acutely self-aware,a astonishingly attuned, with its place in the unfolding, dance.Their free-dancing, cavourting, grace-filled twirling and pirouettes, was by itself, meditative. An opera at Bolshoi ballet would not have made me sit-up more fascinated. Best of all i had a Box Seat. To a private ballet, just next-door.
Try standing beneath a tree.The slightest quiver and leaf-tips come cascading down. A gentle continous, gem-bright stream. Miracles, are all around. A new one grets us each new-born moment. For, me, this is wonder enough.Should an ant, suddenly, as it did this morning clamber over my palm, and i be able to place Her carefully, atop a begonia, then THAT is a prayer suficient to set alight my day...You , must create your own sacred cove, haven. You needn't go too far out.
Just reach, inside...
Cyrus jehangir Sataravalla
To the all-revealing symmetry of the cosmos.
Chaos, like order, self-arises from a thought in mind. Keep in-tune with your ever-rising thermals that, uplift.If, you wish to self-soar, than first remember to keep every other thought out of your mind.
What, appears dis-orderly, at first, has order as well. Gaze behind the apperance of things. While observing, intimately a bee-hive i was awe-struck by the outward buzz. What seems, to an un-trained eye as a swarming, out-of-order mass, swirling helter-skelter. An indisciplined, frenzied rush. Closer, more minute observation reveals a bee-hive hums, to a superbly structured, ultra-specific, well-orchestrated harmonious path.
"Busy as a bee," or "Bee in your bonnet" is self-edident witness to their ingenious, industry. Legend has it that the pervasive, re-sounding "humm" that emanates is closest to the reverberating, re-echoing cosmic motor, the primordial sound of God.
George Gurdjieff's insight, startles and awakens instantly: "We have more strength than we think. But we never make use of it. We have all experienced that Second Wind, when everything at first seems hopeless, and then all of a sudden a new energy arrives in you. You recognize, here, that ordinary efforts do not count.Only "Super-efforts," count. And so it is in everything. Gurdjieff went on: "It is better to die making efforts than to live in sleep."
That, Herculean effort beyond you own effort, is the sacred point where the subtler confluence of SPIRIT swings wide-open all-new Gatesways, in you. Gates, that were long-forgotten, rusted. Shut-tight. It is here that the spiritual slow-revolving wheel, turns in your favour.Along the wheel of spirit your efforts, elicit, inspiration from a Higher Source. Your tiny wave-tops, begin to gather mighty momentum and grow into tumultous unstoppable ever-rising wave-crests of actualization. Natural. Spontaneous.I'm reminded of one of the greatest-ever composers. Genius, Julius Sibelius. In Finland called the uncrowned king. Once whilst speaking of the forces that shape our lives Julius said: "I have always considered life as though it was a piece of solid granite," making his forehead and luminous classical features appear like a granite-statue miraculously come alive. "You take the chisel of will-power and carve the granite. To have a design ready before you start is essential as it is to have a sharp chisel. It is within you, within the power of us all, to get both these requirements."
From my cars wind-screen I once, witnessed a flurry of leaf-blades, dry and green, blown about by a gust of wind, formulating slowly-emerging sequence, patterns. I watched, transfixed the beauty that kept emerging. They, swirled to a timing, an order, known best and ONLY to them. At first it appeared they flew hap-hazard.
Closer, inspection revealed super-synchronicity. Each leaf-tip and blade was acutely self-aware,a astonishingly attuned, with its place in the unfolding, dance.Their free-dancing, cavourting, grace-filled twirling and pirouettes, was by itself, meditative. An opera at Bolshoi ballet would not have made me sit-up more fascinated. Best of all i had a Box Seat. To a private ballet, just next-door.
Try standing beneath a tree.The slightest quiver and leaf-tips come cascading down. A gentle continous, gem-bright stream. Miracles, are all around. A new one grets us each new-born moment. For, me, this is wonder enough.Should an ant, suddenly, as it did this morning clamber over my palm, and i be able to place Her carefully, atop a begonia, then THAT is a prayer suficient to set alight my day...You , must create your own sacred cove, haven. You needn't go too far out.
Just reach, inside...
Cyrus jehangir Sataravalla
AUM SAINATH: UN-SHAKABLE FAITH
Imagine Alladin's Lamp is yours, and your wishes are not limited to a mere three.
An eagle, for a while, waits in an egg. Oak forests remain hidden, in a miniscule acorn-seed. Great dreams begin as a speck-like thought in your mind. Till they gather stupendous inner cosmic momentum.
We never see the breeze. Yet, sense its Presence in our every breath.
These thoughts from ther Taitteriya Arankaya inspire: "The blind man pierced the pearl; The fingerless put a thread through it; the neckless wore it; the tonguelesss praised it; and the deaf heard it."
Shelley's poem on Prometheus is relevant:"To hope till Hope creates from its own wreck the thing it contemplates." There is so much left to re-create.Any problem is merely the first premise to the solution. Detach yourself from the sharp jagged edge of what cuts. As you permit the python-like grip of problems to loosen, a new solutions, arise. Viewed, from afourth-dimensional perspective we "only" have the choice to respond, and select gem-bright solutions.
In 1914 a raging fire tore through Edison's laboratory. Machinery and priceless papers pertaining to his life-long reserch were gutted. A smouldering heap of ashes was all that remained. Hearing of the trajedy his terror-striken son Charles came searching for Edison. He found his Father cheery-faced and not one bit shaken-up. This exactly is what Edison told a trembling Charles:
"Where is your Mother, find Her, quickly, for such a sight he will never see again!"
The next moment walking amidst the half-charred debris of his hopes and dreams the 67-year inventor proclaimed:
"What benifit there is in destruction. All our mistakes have been burnt to ashes, thank God." Is it any wonder that a spirit no less than this gave humanity a series of timeless inventions?Such. is the kind of un-shakable faith in your own ability to re-create. What gone never matters. What arrives, and remains in its place matters, immeasurably. Such is the magical way in which high achievers view catastrophe. Not, for a moment is the poison of fear allowed to paralyze clear-thinking.
They, have this uncanny prowess of using crisis to attain an altogether higher plane of awareness.Once you can make crisis, actually, work for you, you become an Alchemist. You, then are in the knowing of how to de-fang any poisonous, vexing problem. To me this specific trait of transmuting peril into unspeakable super-power is one of the interpretations of genius. A mind-set that will turn water into wine. Thorns into a diamond-mine. Trouble into triumph. Terrifying life-threatning pain into extasy. A pearl is always emerging.I can never forget the stirring words of writer Joseph Conrad's Father, Apollo Korzeniowski: "I have passed through heavy and even terrible days of brooding on God's blessings. I have kept my eyes fixed on the Cross and by that means fortified my fainting soul and reeling brain... And i resume my ordinary life, alittle more broken but with breath still in me, still alive."
This, is where super-alchemy is reborn. Crisis, is not allowed to bend your spirit. How, can it unless you give it that power? Which surgeon's-scalpel is there that might cut a courage-filled thought? It is no myth. Just stark reality. Such Alchemists, dwell amongst us. Be they in high-rise skyscrapers; or in obscure far-away villages, these are the very Ones that hold the healing balm for humanity.
They possess in ample measure the subtlest gifts to regenerate our world. Generations, to come shall salute these Alchemists.With this consciousness awake your life attains a deeper purpose, provides powerful meaning and the growing resilience, to press on. To stumble at times. To sweat and to swear, yet, get on with it.
To rise with added resolve and finish with a flourish whatever you began. To endure. Give life all you have got, as you have a super-abundance of this secret force.To pay the price in seeing yur dreams through. It is not a force to scatter on anything short of what's entirely magnificent. Would you cast your precious gems, on the road-side?
Neil Armstrong when he was a boy said: "Ever since i was twelve, I dreamt I would do something important in aviation..."
This is your chance to let-go and dream at the highest-ever altitude. To brainstorm at out the wildest possibilities and, in so doing re-discover something that will propel your life to the next level.If after having ingested this you take action you will be rewarded with a compelling multi-dimensional vision. Pulling you like a magnet past toughest times...
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
An eagle, for a while, waits in an egg. Oak forests remain hidden, in a miniscule acorn-seed. Great dreams begin as a speck-like thought in your mind. Till they gather stupendous inner cosmic momentum.
We never see the breeze. Yet, sense its Presence in our every breath.
These thoughts from ther Taitteriya Arankaya inspire: "The blind man pierced the pearl; The fingerless put a thread through it; the neckless wore it; the tonguelesss praised it; and the deaf heard it."
Shelley's poem on Prometheus is relevant:"To hope till Hope creates from its own wreck the thing it contemplates." There is so much left to re-create.Any problem is merely the first premise to the solution. Detach yourself from the sharp jagged edge of what cuts. As you permit the python-like grip of problems to loosen, a new solutions, arise. Viewed, from afourth-dimensional perspective we "only" have the choice to respond, and select gem-bright solutions.
In 1914 a raging fire tore through Edison's laboratory. Machinery and priceless papers pertaining to his life-long reserch were gutted. A smouldering heap of ashes was all that remained. Hearing of the trajedy his terror-striken son Charles came searching for Edison. He found his Father cheery-faced and not one bit shaken-up. This exactly is what Edison told a trembling Charles:
"Where is your Mother, find Her, quickly, for such a sight he will never see again!"
The next moment walking amidst the half-charred debris of his hopes and dreams the 67-year inventor proclaimed:
"What benifit there is in destruction. All our mistakes have been burnt to ashes, thank God." Is it any wonder that a spirit no less than this gave humanity a series of timeless inventions?Such. is the kind of un-shakable faith in your own ability to re-create. What gone never matters. What arrives, and remains in its place matters, immeasurably. Such is the magical way in which high achievers view catastrophe. Not, for a moment is the poison of fear allowed to paralyze clear-thinking.
They, have this uncanny prowess of using crisis to attain an altogether higher plane of awareness.Once you can make crisis, actually, work for you, you become an Alchemist. You, then are in the knowing of how to de-fang any poisonous, vexing problem. To me this specific trait of transmuting peril into unspeakable super-power is one of the interpretations of genius. A mind-set that will turn water into wine. Thorns into a diamond-mine. Trouble into triumph. Terrifying life-threatning pain into extasy. A pearl is always emerging.I can never forget the stirring words of writer Joseph Conrad's Father, Apollo Korzeniowski: "I have passed through heavy and even terrible days of brooding on God's blessings. I have kept my eyes fixed on the Cross and by that means fortified my fainting soul and reeling brain... And i resume my ordinary life, alittle more broken but with breath still in me, still alive."
This, is where super-alchemy is reborn. Crisis, is not allowed to bend your spirit. How, can it unless you give it that power? Which surgeon's-scalpel is there that might cut a courage-filled thought? It is no myth. Just stark reality. Such Alchemists, dwell amongst us. Be they in high-rise skyscrapers; or in obscure far-away villages, these are the very Ones that hold the healing balm for humanity.
They possess in ample measure the subtlest gifts to regenerate our world. Generations, to come shall salute these Alchemists.With this consciousness awake your life attains a deeper purpose, provides powerful meaning and the growing resilience, to press on. To stumble at times. To sweat and to swear, yet, get on with it.
To rise with added resolve and finish with a flourish whatever you began. To endure. Give life all you have got, as you have a super-abundance of this secret force.To pay the price in seeing yur dreams through. It is not a force to scatter on anything short of what's entirely magnificent. Would you cast your precious gems, on the road-side?
Neil Armstrong when he was a boy said: "Ever since i was twelve, I dreamt I would do something important in aviation..."
This is your chance to let-go and dream at the highest-ever altitude. To brainstorm at out the wildest possibilities and, in so doing re-discover something that will propel your life to the next level.If after having ingested this you take action you will be rewarded with a compelling multi-dimensional vision. Pulling you like a magnet past toughest times...
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
Friday, May 30, 2008
AUM SAINATH: DIAMOND-SHARP ONE- POINTEDNESS
Coming home to your arrow-point is a stellar trait bringing desire to fruition. Has each of us not come upon a story, a saying, or an insight, that you "felt" and "connected" to with intense urgency?
Then, remember to to trust intuition with all you have. Intuition, is the real you.
Under a strong and well-advanced will, thought travels in a "direct" line upon which it is unswervingly, concentrated. The MORE intense this form of concentration, the swifter and more direct the journey of that thought-ray. Like an archers arrow flying true to its mark. Such astounding accuracy must you expect at all times from your, thought
During such concentration and one-pointed-ness, consciousness is held to a single image-target. Your entire attention is "FIXED" on an inward-arising focal key-point. Without, wavering, or swerving. Such gazing is called a "Tratak." The sharper your thought, within, the clearer you make your point. Keep the cross-hair's of your needle-point, centered on what is natural to you. Thereby your thought and action attain a complete roundness. The deeper, down, your point the more far-carrying its influence. The greater its all-year-round benificial, impact.The term have you made your point speaks of unimaginable, power.
The point of the matter: Super-clarity of thought flows from a clear-cut mind. One rid of unwanted, unnecessary, clutter. Extraneous static. Clutter, collects, through vascillation. Procasternation. Delay.
Endless indecision is party to an nfocussed mind. Once inwardly focussed, you zoom-in sharp to the mighty self-birthing supra-point of the cosmos. A clear mind like an azure sky reflects the illimitable horizon-dwelling super-clarity.The best part, others simultaneously sense the "blue" instantly.There is One Law. Applicable to all.
There is a method, a Way to all life. You carry collosal powers wherever you go. To be unconscious of this truth is an abstacle worthy of overcoming, instantly.Your eagerness to tap-in, here, rests entirely with you.Keep a steady vigil. Mainatain a steady watch-ful-ness to the Nature of your thoughts. Exercise a constant, pre-selection. Repel, what doesen't work. Start, to magnetize what does.
You generate this inward, selection, of "attraction," and "repulsion." Most important be aware of NOT attracting what must inherently be repelled. Your mind attracts thoughts congrous with its core beliefs. Harmonious and rhythimal vibrations repel the inharmonoius ones. They bounce off the surface mind as a stone striking a fast-revolving automobile wheel does.Prior to sending a thought strive for that "right feeling" inside.
That, is how Zen Archers, strike a bull's-eye, everytime when blind-folded. The bull, revolves, looms large inside.
Training the mind, is immeasurably helped forward by coming in "touch", with those more highly evolved than we are. A thinker stronger than we are , can powerfully, aid us. For, they "transmit" vibrations of a higher, more subtle, order.When you are near a strong thinker, those magnetic vibrations play on our mental bodies and set up corresponding vibes, so that we resonate, in-synch with them. Herein, lies the wisdom in of associating with those more advanced than us.
We profit by their contact and groww under their stimulating, compelling, influence. It is through this Presence of gift-vibrations, that a Spiritual Master exerts far-reaching subtler, influence. The energy, permeates deep into ones being.
A hidden spiritual transfer without so much as a syllable. A piece of iron lying on the ground does not assume heat-vibrations on its own; once placed near a fire it automatically draws, re-absorbs heat.Harry Houdini trained his child to stay alert with full concentration in this way.
When passing-by a shop-front in London, in such a manner, that he could instantly magnetically imprint the entire contents of the shop he had passed, without even stopping. Having, thrown over it a concentrated, glance...
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
Then, remember to to trust intuition with all you have. Intuition, is the real you.
Under a strong and well-advanced will, thought travels in a "direct" line upon which it is unswervingly, concentrated. The MORE intense this form of concentration, the swifter and more direct the journey of that thought-ray. Like an archers arrow flying true to its mark. Such astounding accuracy must you expect at all times from your, thought
During such concentration and one-pointed-ness, consciousness is held to a single image-target. Your entire attention is "FIXED" on an inward-arising focal key-point. Without, wavering, or swerving. Such gazing is called a "Tratak." The sharper your thought, within, the clearer you make your point. Keep the cross-hair's of your needle-point, centered on what is natural to you. Thereby your thought and action attain a complete roundness. The deeper, down, your point the more far-carrying its influence. The greater its all-year-round benificial, impact.The term have you made your point speaks of unimaginable, power.
The point of the matter: Super-clarity of thought flows from a clear-cut mind. One rid of unwanted, unnecessary, clutter. Extraneous static. Clutter, collects, through vascillation. Procasternation. Delay.
Endless indecision is party to an nfocussed mind. Once inwardly focussed, you zoom-in sharp to the mighty self-birthing supra-point of the cosmos. A clear mind like an azure sky reflects the illimitable horizon-dwelling super-clarity.The best part, others simultaneously sense the "blue" instantly.There is One Law. Applicable to all.
There is a method, a Way to all life. You carry collosal powers wherever you go. To be unconscious of this truth is an abstacle worthy of overcoming, instantly.Your eagerness to tap-in, here, rests entirely with you.Keep a steady vigil. Mainatain a steady watch-ful-ness to the Nature of your thoughts. Exercise a constant, pre-selection. Repel, what doesen't work. Start, to magnetize what does.
You generate this inward, selection, of "attraction," and "repulsion." Most important be aware of NOT attracting what must inherently be repelled. Your mind attracts thoughts congrous with its core beliefs. Harmonious and rhythimal vibrations repel the inharmonoius ones. They bounce off the surface mind as a stone striking a fast-revolving automobile wheel does.Prior to sending a thought strive for that "right feeling" inside.
That, is how Zen Archers, strike a bull's-eye, everytime when blind-folded. The bull, revolves, looms large inside.
Training the mind, is immeasurably helped forward by coming in "touch", with those more highly evolved than we are. A thinker stronger than we are , can powerfully, aid us. For, they "transmit" vibrations of a higher, more subtle, order.When you are near a strong thinker, those magnetic vibrations play on our mental bodies and set up corresponding vibes, so that we resonate, in-synch with them. Herein, lies the wisdom in of associating with those more advanced than us.
We profit by their contact and groww under their stimulating, compelling, influence. It is through this Presence of gift-vibrations, that a Spiritual Master exerts far-reaching subtler, influence. The energy, permeates deep into ones being.
A hidden spiritual transfer without so much as a syllable. A piece of iron lying on the ground does not assume heat-vibrations on its own; once placed near a fire it automatically draws, re-absorbs heat.Harry Houdini trained his child to stay alert with full concentration in this way.
When passing-by a shop-front in London, in such a manner, that he could instantly magnetically imprint the entire contents of the shop he had passed, without even stopping. Having, thrown over it a concentrated, glance...
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
AUM SAINATH: SIMPLE MOMENTS, POWER-FILLED MESSENGERS
When you have passed a single, ordinary, day beautifully. Done what you believe in. Done it regardless of what you heard or were told. Did, it ONLY, because you trusted, and knew it to be true to you.
That, is the day an all-clear soul-full voice speaks. Communes with you. One-on-one. You need not woner afar in search of this stellar voice. Become, still and so inwardly ready, that it is invoked to alight with delight, inside.
Such an arch-angel flies through you, often during your day. Slow down. Relax. Recognize, this voice the next time. And it might well be your most meaningfully-loaded, moment. My most profound insight is from a paradoxical source. Unpublished by man, however all-pervasive. "Life itself" is our greatest teacher. Nature remains a cherished inner tutor. Your "mind's-eye" and memory for everyday high-detail and the intimacies of experience combine to become your masterpiece. An enriching ever-evolving source of constant, encouragement.
In acordance with this cardinal truth, saint Francois de Sales' remains a spiritual light-house to many. In an exceedingly dignified and keen-spirited manner he treated even the most insignificent person who approached him. Happily, entering into rapt conversation, speaking and listening-in with Godness to all. To those that asked why he wasted his precious time, his answer startles: "It is God's will. It is what He requires of me, what more need I ask? While I'm doing this, i'm not required to do anything else. God's Holy Will is the center from which all we do must radiate. All else is mere weariness and excitement." So each of your so-called chance encounters with an oedinary-looking bus-conducter, or train co-passenger can be eye-opening. By careful and sensitive universal obedience to everyone, ultimately, in time we become, "all things to all men." For me, sharing a tete-a-tete with a mechanic back-of-nowhere proved, unforgettable. Or, sharing a fist-full of honey-flavoured jaggery at a road-side stop-over. Possibly, an encounter with a wizened farmer at his pumkin-field was a soul-full experience. Not just enchanting, but a learning such as i could not have imbibed anywhere. The sparkling simplicity of such folk, coupled with their royal super-generocity, influenced and impacted me, powerfully. Vis this conduict during various stages of my life, a specific person, meaningful encounter, or pertinent book to my present need, always "appears." With a timing beyond any man-made clock.Repeatedly, i witness the wonder of the specific book, person with the "very" thoughts im devoted to, appearing before me. Whatever you need, arrives on cue.Such sacred coming together can transpire, anywhere. Your next-door neighbour, one you never met, might drop by, with an idea or book presenting lucid sections on a theme precious-most to your, moment. An impromptu conversation with a total stranger on a train dining-car could hold intimate relevance to your present-moment situation. Each of us witness this happen, in our day-to-day ordinary life. For instance, i walk into a store, reflecting along certain lines, and the person next to me, someone i have never met, is voicing those "very" thoughts. During those moments, become aware, that they are being self-triggered; and are "MEANT" especially for you.This universal web-link, beams and puts one instantly in direct TOUCH, with whatever holds immense significence during that half-moment.I have learned first-hand that such, spiritually-significent moments occur un-planned. You cannot analyze or force serendipity What straight-lined logic and a million brain-storming sessions cannot reveal. Just to recognize these moments of mind-stuff magic is a wonder by itself.Yesterday, just as i was writing of this connectedness being self-triggered anywhere, at the barbers, for instance. I had just typed-in "barbers" and my cell chimes, and my "barber" Sandip had already tuned-in.True, shaan-o-shauqat they displayed. Their astonishing depth of wisdom, and intimate connectedness to the beauty, within, was enlightening.That, these thoughts tumbled out and eventually found you, is witness to the magic of synchronicity and cosmic congruence.This is a soul-ful moment for me, as i trust it will be for you. So as you pause and peruse a line that appeals ONLY to you. Or commune with a paragraph that applies, specifically, to you. An oracle voicing truths,pertinent to your need and stage of self-aware-ness.
God-willing after free-wheeling through these thermal-currents, you sense deja vu and feel delighted to be alive. As you shout in jubilation and re-call your natural-born invincibility, as master of the impossible. Thermal-diving into the slipstream of a current utterly invigorating...
Then what more might one ask?
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
That, is the day an all-clear soul-full voice speaks. Communes with you. One-on-one. You need not woner afar in search of this stellar voice. Become, still and so inwardly ready, that it is invoked to alight with delight, inside.
Such an arch-angel flies through you, often during your day. Slow down. Relax. Recognize, this voice the next time. And it might well be your most meaningfully-loaded, moment. My most profound insight is from a paradoxical source. Unpublished by man, however all-pervasive. "Life itself" is our greatest teacher. Nature remains a cherished inner tutor. Your "mind's-eye" and memory for everyday high-detail and the intimacies of experience combine to become your masterpiece. An enriching ever-evolving source of constant, encouragement.
In acordance with this cardinal truth, saint Francois de Sales' remains a spiritual light-house to many. In an exceedingly dignified and keen-spirited manner he treated even the most insignificent person who approached him. Happily, entering into rapt conversation, speaking and listening-in with Godness to all. To those that asked why he wasted his precious time, his answer startles: "It is God's will. It is what He requires of me, what more need I ask? While I'm doing this, i'm not required to do anything else. God's Holy Will is the center from which all we do must radiate. All else is mere weariness and excitement." So each of your so-called chance encounters with an oedinary-looking bus-conducter, or train co-passenger can be eye-opening. By careful and sensitive universal obedience to everyone, ultimately, in time we become, "all things to all men." For me, sharing a tete-a-tete with a mechanic back-of-nowhere proved, unforgettable. Or, sharing a fist-full of honey-flavoured jaggery at a road-side stop-over. Possibly, an encounter with a wizened farmer at his pumkin-field was a soul-full experience. Not just enchanting, but a learning such as i could not have imbibed anywhere. The sparkling simplicity of such folk, coupled with their royal super-generocity, influenced and impacted me, powerfully. Vis this conduict during various stages of my life, a specific person, meaningful encounter, or pertinent book to my present need, always "appears." With a timing beyond any man-made clock.Repeatedly, i witness the wonder of the specific book, person with the "very" thoughts im devoted to, appearing before me. Whatever you need, arrives on cue.Such sacred coming together can transpire, anywhere. Your next-door neighbour, one you never met, might drop by, with an idea or book presenting lucid sections on a theme precious-most to your, moment. An impromptu conversation with a total stranger on a train dining-car could hold intimate relevance to your present-moment situation. Each of us witness this happen, in our day-to-day ordinary life. For instance, i walk into a store, reflecting along certain lines, and the person next to me, someone i have never met, is voicing those "very" thoughts. During those moments, become aware, that they are being self-triggered; and are "MEANT" especially for you.This universal web-link, beams and puts one instantly in direct TOUCH, with whatever holds immense significence during that half-moment.I have learned first-hand that such, spiritually-significent moments occur un-planned. You cannot analyze or force serendipity What straight-lined logic and a million brain-storming sessions cannot reveal. Just to recognize these moments of mind-stuff magic is a wonder by itself.Yesterday, just as i was writing of this connectedness being self-triggered anywhere, at the barbers, for instance. I had just typed-in "barbers" and my cell chimes, and my "barber" Sandip had already tuned-in.True, shaan-o-shauqat they displayed. Their astonishing depth of wisdom, and intimate connectedness to the beauty, within, was enlightening.That, these thoughts tumbled out and eventually found you, is witness to the magic of synchronicity and cosmic congruence.This is a soul-ful moment for me, as i trust it will be for you. So as you pause and peruse a line that appeals ONLY to you. Or commune with a paragraph that applies, specifically, to you. An oracle voicing truths,pertinent to your need and stage of self-aware-ness.
God-willing after free-wheeling through these thermal-currents, you sense deja vu and feel delighted to be alive. As you shout in jubilation and re-call your natural-born invincibility, as master of the impossible. Thermal-diving into the slipstream of a current utterly invigorating...
Then what more might one ask?
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
AUM SAINATH: MRI IN THOUGHT
The Scottish novelist Robert Louis Stevenson cultivated an ingenious method of giving specific instructions to his subconscious to evolve great stories. Or, solve persistent problems with remarkable results. It did so magnificently for him. And it will for you
.You, can instantly call upon your infinite "Magnetic resonance Imaging" faculty to faithfully scan and re-scan the lochs, valley-crests, bottoms, escarpments and inter-connected moraines in your mind. Moreover to bring, you, a specific desire you always longed for. Be it a masterpiece. Or a castle in Whales. Your subconscious mind takes you to your word. Be watchful of what you ask for. Its job, is just to produce. Like Xerox your subconscious will give you a replica, of any request you hand over in complete faith.How you speak and tune-in to your subconscious, can aid you immeasurably through the course of your life. As you sleep your unconscious is wide-awake.
Can you imagine a more fruitful pursuit, than, giving specific heart-felt request-thoughts to your un-conscious as you dip off into the abyss we call sleep?
Yet, how little we know about the mysterious forces, that, specially leap up and come to the fore during this super-creative hour. Once, aware of this truth, you, are only half-asleep. Because, then you are acutely "awake" to the more vital part of you that never, sleeps.
To be unaware of this truth is to be asleep.For your work to attain its inherent fullness, that richness to set it distinctly apart, this is the realm to stay connected to more fully, wherever you are and no matter what your occupation. Can you imagine a studio more impressive. One for which there is no rent. Stevenson's thought impresses: "He who can be happy and valiant in himself, in his own nature, will enjoy the universe as if it were his own estate; and help the man to whom he lends a hand to enjoy it with him."You might ahve troubles. Yet, should you focus on them you only compound and give them added intensity.
So as you dip off to sleep, feed a constant steady copious charge of beauty-filled pictures into consciousness. To put this very realm to use in each of our lives with deeper urgency is what i suggest. In a conscious and all-aware manner, lovingly, still the wheels of your mind. Slowing the movement, within. In Stevenson's case he would enthusiastically convey a positive command image to his deeper mind to evolve for him a bestselling story.In his story, 'Across The Plains,' Stevenson, revealed: "These little brownies can tell me a story piece by piece, like a serial."
Contemplate this method and you will realize most of us often do the reverse. Instead taking cherished hybrid seed-thoughts of idea-fulfillment, we water-down, curtail, and shoot-down our own best ideas. That, is to say we invite worries and dificulties, merely, by focussing on them with added vigour. Marie Curie re-awakens me; "life is not easy for any of us. But what of that. We must persevere and above all have confidence in ourselves. We must believe we are gifted for something and that this thing at whatever cost must be attained."As we learn learn to "sleep on a problem" you will be absolutely delighted with the results you reap. Here is a balanced and most practical Way that you can inculcate here-now.
The usual thoughts we take to bed form deep-cut furrow channels; and these grow into tall persistent habit-forming trees in our lives. Ask yourself: "Do i follow a simple way?"What's simple adds gigantic power to become your ally. The age-old counsel to not take troubles to bed is a wise one. To allow the subconscious unhampered one must provide it with a rich source to work with.So begin to fall off to sleep with powerful thought-planets revolving inside your head. Ask lovingly for your subliminal to provide you a lead. Then watch the up-to-now locked doors swing wide-open.The greatest-ever dialogue you ever had, is, posibly the one you are having with yourself, now.
Remember, it is never just a great book, or article that speaks. It IS the corresponding wave of insight, that a-rises from your own heart that is more meaningful.
In such a state awareness, rises clear as a stream. Live as blazing embers.
During such "Awakened" states energy flows unimpeded. Of its own accord. Unrestricted. Copiously. EffortleslyLike a meandering river, your thoughts, move to a flow-pattern and life-rhythym all their own.
Tap-in to your inner mountain-fed, pure spring Source.
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
.You, can instantly call upon your infinite "Magnetic resonance Imaging" faculty to faithfully scan and re-scan the lochs, valley-crests, bottoms, escarpments and inter-connected moraines in your mind. Moreover to bring, you, a specific desire you always longed for. Be it a masterpiece. Or a castle in Whales. Your subconscious mind takes you to your word. Be watchful of what you ask for. Its job, is just to produce. Like Xerox your subconscious will give you a replica, of any request you hand over in complete faith.How you speak and tune-in to your subconscious, can aid you immeasurably through the course of your life. As you sleep your unconscious is wide-awake.
Can you imagine a more fruitful pursuit, than, giving specific heart-felt request-thoughts to your un-conscious as you dip off into the abyss we call sleep?
Yet, how little we know about the mysterious forces, that, specially leap up and come to the fore during this super-creative hour. Once, aware of this truth, you, are only half-asleep. Because, then you are acutely "awake" to the more vital part of you that never, sleeps.
To be unaware of this truth is to be asleep.For your work to attain its inherent fullness, that richness to set it distinctly apart, this is the realm to stay connected to more fully, wherever you are and no matter what your occupation. Can you imagine a studio more impressive. One for which there is no rent. Stevenson's thought impresses: "He who can be happy and valiant in himself, in his own nature, will enjoy the universe as if it were his own estate; and help the man to whom he lends a hand to enjoy it with him."You might ahve troubles. Yet, should you focus on them you only compound and give them added intensity.
So as you dip off to sleep, feed a constant steady copious charge of beauty-filled pictures into consciousness. To put this very realm to use in each of our lives with deeper urgency is what i suggest. In a conscious and all-aware manner, lovingly, still the wheels of your mind. Slowing the movement, within. In Stevenson's case he would enthusiastically convey a positive command image to his deeper mind to evolve for him a bestselling story.In his story, 'Across The Plains,' Stevenson, revealed: "These little brownies can tell me a story piece by piece, like a serial."
Contemplate this method and you will realize most of us often do the reverse. Instead taking cherished hybrid seed-thoughts of idea-fulfillment, we water-down, curtail, and shoot-down our own best ideas. That, is to say we invite worries and dificulties, merely, by focussing on them with added vigour. Marie Curie re-awakens me; "life is not easy for any of us. But what of that. We must persevere and above all have confidence in ourselves. We must believe we are gifted for something and that this thing at whatever cost must be attained."As we learn learn to "sleep on a problem" you will be absolutely delighted with the results you reap. Here is a balanced and most practical Way that you can inculcate here-now.
The usual thoughts we take to bed form deep-cut furrow channels; and these grow into tall persistent habit-forming trees in our lives. Ask yourself: "Do i follow a simple way?"What's simple adds gigantic power to become your ally. The age-old counsel to not take troubles to bed is a wise one. To allow the subconscious unhampered one must provide it with a rich source to work with.So begin to fall off to sleep with powerful thought-planets revolving inside your head. Ask lovingly for your subliminal to provide you a lead. Then watch the up-to-now locked doors swing wide-open.The greatest-ever dialogue you ever had, is, posibly the one you are having with yourself, now.
Remember, it is never just a great book, or article that speaks. It IS the corresponding wave of insight, that a-rises from your own heart that is more meaningful.
In such a state awareness, rises clear as a stream. Live as blazing embers.
During such "Awakened" states energy flows unimpeded. Of its own accord. Unrestricted. Copiously. EffortleslyLike a meandering river, your thoughts, move to a flow-pattern and life-rhythym all their own.
Tap-in to your inner mountain-fed, pure spring Source.
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
AUM SAINATH:INSPIRATIONS IN-COMING OUT-FLOWING TIDE
Imagine, yourself at a sea-shore. Silent. Quiet. The shore waits. The high-tide and surf have long back to sea. Yet, the shore "knows" the in-coming tide must inevitably re-return. Of its own accord. To lap re-assuringly the expectant shore-line. Waitings, which ripen hopes must NOT be seen as delays.
So it is from this in-coming high-tide that your boat's sail billows best.
You, become a voice-box, a conduict to a far superior power. And the out-going, flow, is the influence you exert. What others instantly "sense."
At this in-coming and out-flowing, is a sacred confluence.From, that link is a YOG born. During any such moment, of intense attunement, you are engaged in a Yoga most fluid. Your audience, might be in rapture.
The performer is entirely, unaffected.
Sudden self-illumination is one thing. Years, of impassioned practise and re-practise with dedicated one-pointedness trained to "ONE" pursuit, is quite another. And so prodigy, or those referred to as being God-gifted, comes to mind. For genius, divine inspiration, is something they seem to possess a super-abundance of. Yet, genius is a mis-used term.Genius, has learnt to perfect, superbly, with whatever they have. Some, might show this acumen, this superior prowess for riding, another for sketching. You, must use your key talent as no-onee else can. Re-focus your energy on one, and ONLY one exceptional super-gift.
One super-cause that means no less than life itself. THAT, must remain the ONE universe to absorb you like nothing else. Genius such as his does not come cheap.No mental distraction, not even the minutest, must be permitted to come in your way. Where others may disperse their in-dwelling super-focus on diverse activity, those who ascend the supra plane of accomplishment concentrate, solely, singularly on one key field.You cannot afford the luxury to fritter, leak or dilute even a drop of concentration. Select one endeavour. And se it through. Ones of such exceptional ilk train and make their inner being readily "available" to invoke, chanel and "receive" a copious in-flow of conducive currents, directly from the ever-flowing stream of inner consciousness.
Masters, learn gradually to so cultivate their interior resources, such to evoke awe. They, recognize the river of concentration, that springs, and meanders as a self-evolving chanel deep inside their being.Into this river's torrent, they master the method to slip in, and the river, superbly does the rest. This, in-flow they use optimally. Once, into the full stream and flow of this superior force, nothing, is allowed to swerve their flow. This, inner path paves and elicits a stupendous, unparalleled performance each time. Gradually, they are able to tune-in to this all-creative self-operative station, within, at will.
A mere command uttered internally, and they ascend levels that astonish and leave others spell-bound.Great tides of insight, and timely inspiration move freely past our inner self. Such, doers, possess the wherewithall, via that deeper inward-focussed reverance, that instantly puts them in "direct" touch with the Masters who aid in evolving Higher, Superior work. It is through flowing along, and accessing these tides of inward-felt inspiration that they makes them available to receive succour and strength that to some seems, almost magical.They learn to access, regulate this in-coming tide of creativity.
From this constant connection work prospers with a glitter that othewise, would be unattainable.Renaining 'yoked' to the Source from where this energy flows un-impeded is what they have mastered, most adroitly. It is from here that they are ceselessly, replenished, with this unspeakable power.
Beyond, this you, too must be acutely aware, that you, can call upon and summon forth this secret power, especially when you MOST need to access it. To know that it WILL be made available, even as you fervently call upon it is fundamental and of the esence.Remain in touch with your great cosmic river. It is from its liquid and rippling chanel that you will obtain masterely, super-touch.Like a cord-string resonates in unision from a harp. The strum-note and You, inter-twine. All melt into a one-ness... You forget yourself, completely. In this sublime all-too-brief g-a-ap, you find yourself...I see this as dusks mystic hour just before to sunset. As it dips. Vanishes, inside you, there is a brief pregnant, g-a-p.
Everything merges into you during such a moment... Once in this pitch you vibrate at asublime level.During one of Motzart's early concerts a genuis proclaimed: "Others may go to heaven through their works, but Motzart! He comes from there."
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
So it is from this in-coming high-tide that your boat's sail billows best.
You, become a voice-box, a conduict to a far superior power. And the out-going, flow, is the influence you exert. What others instantly "sense."
At this in-coming and out-flowing, is a sacred confluence.From, that link is a YOG born. During any such moment, of intense attunement, you are engaged in a Yoga most fluid. Your audience, might be in rapture.
The performer is entirely, unaffected.
Sudden self-illumination is one thing. Years, of impassioned practise and re-practise with dedicated one-pointedness trained to "ONE" pursuit, is quite another. And so prodigy, or those referred to as being God-gifted, comes to mind. For genius, divine inspiration, is something they seem to possess a super-abundance of. Yet, genius is a mis-used term.Genius, has learnt to perfect, superbly, with whatever they have. Some, might show this acumen, this superior prowess for riding, another for sketching. You, must use your key talent as no-onee else can. Re-focus your energy on one, and ONLY one exceptional super-gift.
One super-cause that means no less than life itself. THAT, must remain the ONE universe to absorb you like nothing else. Genius such as his does not come cheap.No mental distraction, not even the minutest, must be permitted to come in your way. Where others may disperse their in-dwelling super-focus on diverse activity, those who ascend the supra plane of accomplishment concentrate, solely, singularly on one key field.You cannot afford the luxury to fritter, leak or dilute even a drop of concentration. Select one endeavour. And se it through. Ones of such exceptional ilk train and make their inner being readily "available" to invoke, chanel and "receive" a copious in-flow of conducive currents, directly from the ever-flowing stream of inner consciousness.
Masters, learn gradually to so cultivate their interior resources, such to evoke awe. They, recognize the river of concentration, that springs, and meanders as a self-evolving chanel deep inside their being.Into this river's torrent, they master the method to slip in, and the river, superbly does the rest. This, in-flow they use optimally. Once, into the full stream and flow of this superior force, nothing, is allowed to swerve their flow. This, inner path paves and elicits a stupendous, unparalleled performance each time. Gradually, they are able to tune-in to this all-creative self-operative station, within, at will.
A mere command uttered internally, and they ascend levels that astonish and leave others spell-bound.Great tides of insight, and timely inspiration move freely past our inner self. Such, doers, possess the wherewithall, via that deeper inward-focussed reverance, that instantly puts them in "direct" touch with the Masters who aid in evolving Higher, Superior work. It is through flowing along, and accessing these tides of inward-felt inspiration that they makes them available to receive succour and strength that to some seems, almost magical.They learn to access, regulate this in-coming tide of creativity.
From this constant connection work prospers with a glitter that othewise, would be unattainable.Renaining 'yoked' to the Source from where this energy flows un-impeded is what they have mastered, most adroitly. It is from here that they are ceselessly, replenished, with this unspeakable power.
Beyond, this you, too must be acutely aware, that you, can call upon and summon forth this secret power, especially when you MOST need to access it. To know that it WILL be made available, even as you fervently call upon it is fundamental and of the esence.Remain in touch with your great cosmic river. It is from its liquid and rippling chanel that you will obtain masterely, super-touch.Like a cord-string resonates in unision from a harp. The strum-note and You, inter-twine. All melt into a one-ness... You forget yourself, completely. In this sublime all-too-brief g-a-ap, you find yourself...I see this as dusks mystic hour just before to sunset. As it dips. Vanishes, inside you, there is a brief pregnant, g-a-p.
Everything merges into you during such a moment... Once in this pitch you vibrate at asublime level.During one of Motzart's early concerts a genuis proclaimed: "Others may go to heaven through their works, but Motzart! He comes from there."
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
AUM SAINATH: WEAVERS OF DESTINY
Your web-strand to life is continous. Ever-present. A single threadweaves through your tapestry. A web-strand, close-by as life to breath. As Alpha to Omega. As notes to a harp.Everyday, outwardly, ordinary moments hold poignant spirituall-charged, answers. Your "gift-wrapped" moment will arrive, unexpected. Anywhere.
At the barber's. Whilst watching your child play. Every spot is pre-saturated with spiritual chemistry of vatic significence. The flimsiest idea-strand once viewed with all-new eyes, becomes a lead. To something, else. You, pick up each golden thread-strands. Weaving, with diligence your own wicker-basket. With the time at hand.Until your nest is complete.
Then we begin all over again. How many countless strands go into making our world is an idea, staggering, and humbling enough.
A single spider-web holds, masterfully, together a few 1000 web-strands. A rainbow arching the heavens, is woven into subtler sanguine streams, wisps and light-plumes. Sharing the flmae of ideas reminds me of the startling ingenuity of 'baya,' weaver-birds.I cannot pass a field without being struck by their divinity. Not a single moment do they spend at school. No need to pursue scholarships.
Nor higher learning.Weaver-birds, naturally, stay attuned with the rare gift-rays they already, possess. A hand-finished painting by Vinci couldn't inspire me more. Their marvellous creations make me smile in wonder.
Great engineer's. Artist extra-ordinaire going about their day with astounding purpose.I witnessed a colony by a lake-shore build nests amongst thorny acasias.
One, bird in particular, held my un-divided, attention. A tiny strip of feather-grass, thin as a human-hair was the first strand it brought, and wrapped it securely around a firm branch. So flimsy a building-block did it seem. Yet, a feat of sublime engineering had commenced.Far, into fields he flew. Cheerfully, returning with another ordinary-looking dried-up strand. Each fragile strand in time garnered strength more than steel. Tantra, i could not help wonder, is related to the concept of weaving and its derivatives. Pointing, at the inter-woven-ness of moments. The interdependance of all that exists. The continuity in our spiritual progress, which like a thread-strand sutures its way into the very warp and weave of our individual earth lives. Realized yogis reach union with the 1000-petalled lotus, sahsara-chakra after deep inward, meditation. The, baya-bird, before me was already in a state of perennial bliss: At-one-ment. Wide-Awake, in super-conscious-ness.I gazed in wonderment at my newely-found friend. I returned for 2-weeks. As one under the influence of a gravitational field. Watching the progress of weave and inter-weave. suture and re-stitch of that solitary nest swinging pendulum-like. An impregnable, fortress.
What struck me sharply was once completed, its left, entirely up to the female to decide if it pleases her sufficiently. Heaven forbid should she decide to re-emerge, the message to the male is a curt and clear-cut: "Re-begin all over again."In this case, thankfully, she remained, inside. Look upon each idea-strand in your mind, no matter how flimy at first as a golden-tipped gift-ray from above.Dexterously, spin, and re-spin structures of solid-gold.
More than anything, it will gird and re-furbish your spirit with added resilience. Into impregnable bands of steel.
Austrian mystic-poet Rainer Rilke's insight is provocative, all-revealing: "Keep growing quietly and seriously throughout your whole development. You cannot disturb it more rudely than by looking outward and expecting from outside reples to questions that only your innermost felign in your hushed hour can answer."Cyrus jehangir Sataravalla
At the barber's. Whilst watching your child play. Every spot is pre-saturated with spiritual chemistry of vatic significence. The flimsiest idea-strand once viewed with all-new eyes, becomes a lead. To something, else. You, pick up each golden thread-strands. Weaving, with diligence your own wicker-basket. With the time at hand.Until your nest is complete.
Then we begin all over again. How many countless strands go into making our world is an idea, staggering, and humbling enough.
A single spider-web holds, masterfully, together a few 1000 web-strands. A rainbow arching the heavens, is woven into subtler sanguine streams, wisps and light-plumes. Sharing the flmae of ideas reminds me of the startling ingenuity of 'baya,' weaver-birds.I cannot pass a field without being struck by their divinity. Not a single moment do they spend at school. No need to pursue scholarships.
Nor higher learning.Weaver-birds, naturally, stay attuned with the rare gift-rays they already, possess. A hand-finished painting by Vinci couldn't inspire me more. Their marvellous creations make me smile in wonder.
Great engineer's. Artist extra-ordinaire going about their day with astounding purpose.I witnessed a colony by a lake-shore build nests amongst thorny acasias.
One, bird in particular, held my un-divided, attention. A tiny strip of feather-grass, thin as a human-hair was the first strand it brought, and wrapped it securely around a firm branch. So flimsy a building-block did it seem. Yet, a feat of sublime engineering had commenced.Far, into fields he flew. Cheerfully, returning with another ordinary-looking dried-up strand. Each fragile strand in time garnered strength more than steel. Tantra, i could not help wonder, is related to the concept of weaving and its derivatives. Pointing, at the inter-woven-ness of moments. The interdependance of all that exists. The continuity in our spiritual progress, which like a thread-strand sutures its way into the very warp and weave of our individual earth lives. Realized yogis reach union with the 1000-petalled lotus, sahsara-chakra after deep inward, meditation. The, baya-bird, before me was already in a state of perennial bliss: At-one-ment. Wide-Awake, in super-conscious-ness.I gazed in wonderment at my newely-found friend. I returned for 2-weeks. As one under the influence of a gravitational field. Watching the progress of weave and inter-weave. suture and re-stitch of that solitary nest swinging pendulum-like. An impregnable, fortress.
What struck me sharply was once completed, its left, entirely up to the female to decide if it pleases her sufficiently. Heaven forbid should she decide to re-emerge, the message to the male is a curt and clear-cut: "Re-begin all over again."In this case, thankfully, she remained, inside. Look upon each idea-strand in your mind, no matter how flimy at first as a golden-tipped gift-ray from above.Dexterously, spin, and re-spin structures of solid-gold.
More than anything, it will gird and re-furbish your spirit with added resilience. Into impregnable bands of steel.
Austrian mystic-poet Rainer Rilke's insight is provocative, all-revealing: "Keep growing quietly and seriously throughout your whole development. You cannot disturb it more rudely than by looking outward and expecting from outside reples to questions that only your innermost felign in your hushed hour can answer."Cyrus jehangir Sataravalla
Thursday, May 29, 2008
AUM SAINATH: HIGH-DETAIL IN PASSION
When passion is present you are unstoppable. It creates within you, a certain mood, an uncanny far-carrying drive that is inexplicable.
With it all becomes attainable.
One migh have myriad other traits, yet, without, passion all other traits become meaningless. Defunct.To me, pasion trnscends the spirit to the rarerst plane of prayer. This single quality, will , set apart your work from any. It reveals everything about you. When, nothing short of the magnificent is expected from you.
The result is mesmerising and felt by all who gaze in rapture, wonder-struck at its beauty.Passion, hurtles you past barriers and puts you in touch with a force entirely magical. Supernatural sparkle arises from you.When the statue of Liberty was built, and presented to America by Bartholdi on 28th Oct 1886, minutest attention to each strand-strand atop her head was lavished, painstakingly.
Years later Oscar Hammestein, from his helcopter could not help but notice the lady's coiffure. Every strand of hair perfectly "in" place. How many would bother and focus with such fastidious high-detail and super-fervour as did Bartholdi, its creator? On what outwardly appears so minute. In Bartholdi's day only, a soaring seagull could, possibly, have known about the perfectly-created hair on the statues sky-high head.
Yet, to Barthold's mind this, was the "very" to lavish super-perfection to.
This, then is the one "touch" that always "touches."To the artists mind this touch meant more than life itself. Remember, then, to always flow-out your total focus and pay closest attention to tiny detail. Thereby, your work attains a nature of charm. Your, creations can speak, only, and only, after they "speak" with you. I find a spiritual dimension pervade such work. As you "sense" this spirit of high-detail move in you, during each master-stroke of creation, then THAT is the area to revere and continually remain devoted to. You, cast aside the outer garment. A parallel, you arises.
Picasso, whenever he came to paint, left his shoes outside. "I carry, only spirit, when i paint or create." These,a re the forces to trust entirely as you create. From here the searching mind contacts that Higher plane of Creation. It is worth devoting an entire lifetime, to invoke this depth-of-awareness. Even, if just one task of yours attains this sparkling, illumination of inward-arising transcendence.With, this trait work is re-remembered centuries later. Evokes a sense of being awe-struck. Every stroke and contour of such creations speak for itself. Work of this order is a prayer, to creation. This is the mind-set that evokes reverance. Nothing is left to the vagaries or winds of chance.
Such a mindset is ablaze. It knows and seeks, only, a level supreme.Endearing, key-touches such as these fascinate me. They, inspire me deeper inwards. To uphold, and re-spread such minutest attention to supra-detail. Only, such work will ensure true forward-seeing progress.When soul-search not only keenly desires, but also wills to see such high-detail inculcated in everything we attempt.
That, becomes the sacred socket in which your diamond attains unspeakable, brightness.In the steady attention to such matters of detail does the fulfillment of human progress gain true worth. These "little" acts, become momentous way-markers. Lets re-awaken to more such "little" acts of repitition. More such conscious acts. Ultimately, they not only determine the character of the individual, but, also that of a nation. Take on work of such monumental immensity, that you, have to call upon a HigherForce to inspire you.
When Michelangelo finished creating the superb, timelessly magnificent statue of Moses he uttered in disdain, and deep frustration: "Why doest thou not speak to me." To this day there is a chip on the knee, of this stellar creation. Makes one shudder at the sheer magnitude of the genious he expected from himself.
Not merely wanting but also expecting the marble creation to speak and commune. But, it is, speaking even as we think about it this moment. Centuries later...Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
With it all becomes attainable.
One migh have myriad other traits, yet, without, passion all other traits become meaningless. Defunct.To me, pasion trnscends the spirit to the rarerst plane of prayer. This single quality, will , set apart your work from any. It reveals everything about you. When, nothing short of the magnificent is expected from you.
The result is mesmerising and felt by all who gaze in rapture, wonder-struck at its beauty.Passion, hurtles you past barriers and puts you in touch with a force entirely magical. Supernatural sparkle arises from you.When the statue of Liberty was built, and presented to America by Bartholdi on 28th Oct 1886, minutest attention to each strand-strand atop her head was lavished, painstakingly.
Years later Oscar Hammestein, from his helcopter could not help but notice the lady's coiffure. Every strand of hair perfectly "in" place. How many would bother and focus with such fastidious high-detail and super-fervour as did Bartholdi, its creator? On what outwardly appears so minute. In Bartholdi's day only, a soaring seagull could, possibly, have known about the perfectly-created hair on the statues sky-high head.
Yet, to Barthold's mind this, was the "very" to lavish super-perfection to.
This, then is the one "touch" that always "touches."To the artists mind this touch meant more than life itself. Remember, then, to always flow-out your total focus and pay closest attention to tiny detail. Thereby, your work attains a nature of charm. Your, creations can speak, only, and only, after they "speak" with you. I find a spiritual dimension pervade such work. As you "sense" this spirit of high-detail move in you, during each master-stroke of creation, then THAT is the area to revere and continually remain devoted to. You, cast aside the outer garment. A parallel, you arises.
Picasso, whenever he came to paint, left his shoes outside. "I carry, only spirit, when i paint or create." These,a re the forces to trust entirely as you create. From here the searching mind contacts that Higher plane of Creation. It is worth devoting an entire lifetime, to invoke this depth-of-awareness. Even, if just one task of yours attains this sparkling, illumination of inward-arising transcendence.With, this trait work is re-remembered centuries later. Evokes a sense of being awe-struck. Every stroke and contour of such creations speak for itself. Work of this order is a prayer, to creation. This is the mind-set that evokes reverance. Nothing is left to the vagaries or winds of chance.
Such a mindset is ablaze. It knows and seeks, only, a level supreme.Endearing, key-touches such as these fascinate me. They, inspire me deeper inwards. To uphold, and re-spread such minutest attention to supra-detail. Only, such work will ensure true forward-seeing progress.When soul-search not only keenly desires, but also wills to see such high-detail inculcated in everything we attempt.
That, becomes the sacred socket in which your diamond attains unspeakable, brightness.In the steady attention to such matters of detail does the fulfillment of human progress gain true worth. These "little" acts, become momentous way-markers. Lets re-awaken to more such "little" acts of repitition. More such conscious acts. Ultimately, they not only determine the character of the individual, but, also that of a nation. Take on work of such monumental immensity, that you, have to call upon a HigherForce to inspire you.
When Michelangelo finished creating the superb, timelessly magnificent statue of Moses he uttered in disdain, and deep frustration: "Why doest thou not speak to me." To this day there is a chip on the knee, of this stellar creation. Makes one shudder at the sheer magnitude of the genious he expected from himself.
Not merely wanting but also expecting the marble creation to speak and commune. But, it is, speaking even as we think about it this moment. Centuries later...Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
AUM SAINATH:THOUGHT INCUBATION IDEA ILLUMINATION
We use ex-pressions such as 'a thought pops up, 'an idea appeared out of the blue,' 'it came to me.'
These describe the exuberant creative process by which path-breaking break-throughs and novel ideas from our deeper depths, beneath the surface consciousness, suddenly self-arise.
Thought, must be left to incubate, ripen, to super-perfection in the silent, vats of your mind.
Lets explore the creative pre-process, of bringing something new into being. Examine, keenly, what actually transpires during the creative act. An understanding of the all-essential subtlest, fluids, that birth work of an order absolutely breath-taking.
The first, stage, we notice during a creative encounter is it is a passion-filled, encounter. The essential key-ingredient during this fusion is the degree of "self-absorbtion." What we know as being entirely immersed, saturated, enwarapped, consumed in. Wherein, there must be a specific supra-commitment of total and utter "engagement". An engagement whereby one is so completely caught up in; or wholly involved, with that all-enveloping idea, that nothing else is allowrd to contaminate, consciousness. Every other idea-flicker is momentarily self-extinguished. So deeply consuming is concentration that we are become oblivious to things around. Any distraction. Or the passing of time, dissolves. The neddle-pointed probiscis of creation, is immersed so deep into the fragrance of creation that all else, evaporates. Just, the encounter gets magnified a million-fold.During an intense creative encounter we experience enhanced intensity of eagle-eyed vision.
Genuine creativity, is characterised by an intensity of super-heightened self-aware-ness. Heightened consciousness. Vibrant vitality and total committed purpose, whereby you and your incubating idea "fuse" into a sacred "At-One-Ness." Like, a marshmellow's being slow-turned to perfection over a flame; thought-incubation must attain a certain key temperature, whereby its baked to perfection. These are some of the emotions that accompany heightened awareness, which culminate in the actual experience of self-actualizing our peak potentialities.You cannot will creativity, or force valuable insights.
We can only will to give ourselves totally to the superior-most encounter, with intensity of purpose, self-flowering into fervour.
Allowing the proces by which pertinent well-incubated seed-ideas arise from the deeper abyss, and present themselves in the agile surface mind. Whereby you recognize and seize that idea as it reveals it's luminous, lightening-flash. This must be facilitated with razor-keen alertness.Once the subconscious provides you wit its unique insights, it is imperative and of the essence to follow through on those ideas instantly with abiding conviction and ever-evolving diligince. Even though at times, they might appear, to your conscious mind as being hair-brained. Or, having no special significence; nor any logical rational connection, or any enduring appeal. Remember, then to pursue those very ideas with a boldness such as never exerted before.
Crick and Watson received the Nobel prize for their startling discovery of DNA after a decade-long search. They, revealed what at first might seem like a never-ending wild goose chase, must not lead you off-track. Or, Marie Curie's undying devotion, and lifelong persistent self-belief that ultimately revealed to her the deeply-glowing joy through the discovery of radium.
We, often, unfortunately shy away from our own jewel-bright ideas, and insights.
Many brilliant ideas go still-born this way. IBM founder Thomas Watson revealed "To succeed double your failure rate." just don't reapeat the same mistake twice i might add. Creative flashes and rare insights do not come unsought. Thge first step always points towards a long ardous conscious mental struggle to organize a logical body of ideas to solve a problem. If after an exhaustive, tedious most frustrating search in consciousness, your solution has not arrived, do not despair. Every genius has traverssed that mandatory all-dark period.
After, the firefly of insight will pulse its glow in you. So, as you relax and turn your mind to other things, a sparkling solution illuminates and leaps into consciousness, with devastating, suddenness. For the insight to be born the conscious tension and application must be relaxed. Intermittent self-birthing periods of solitude, stillness, and contemplation are essential. After intense application with the problem, thinking about it, strugling, and juggling it inside, it becomes imperative to entertain periods of tranqullity, quisence, inside. Whereby, you switch-off.
Or, engage in something completely different.Einstein at Princeton once asked a friend, "Why is it i get my best ideas in the morning while I'm shaving?" The optimal mood for novel solutions is the an intuitive, concentration, of being outwardly shut. An inward-turned state. Outer focus, drops of. A sun-up of relevant illumunation, ideation arises.To enable break-throughs start looking at every dead-end as a sure-fire all-new beginning. Alternate periods of commitment must be combined with phases of complete relaxation. This, allows the creative insight to emerge at a moment where of transition betwen intense work and relaxation. During the all-vital phase of thought-incubation, which may be from moments, months, or years, fruitful pertinent novelties are generated by the conscious mind when engaged elesewhere.
Yet, below the level of consciousness, useful most beautiful ideas are being continually tabulated, re-arranged and combined by the subliminal. As their resultant spark ignites, in a ready receptive surface mind, you catch with instantly.Such insights never come hit and miss, but in acordance with a pattern of which one esential ingredient is our own willing commitment.Ingight is born, only, from the area to which we are most intensely committed.
During such moments there is a "click" in your mind. A conviction, or immediate certainty. Consciousness is able to single out immediately certain harmoniuos insights that are useful, only, to you.Such, the tool-kit, you carry in consciousness
There is nothing it cannot fix, except the persistent thought that you can't. Fix that and you are well on the way to idea re-illumination...
Cyrus jehangir Sataravalla
These describe the exuberant creative process by which path-breaking break-throughs and novel ideas from our deeper depths, beneath the surface consciousness, suddenly self-arise.
Thought, must be left to incubate, ripen, to super-perfection in the silent, vats of your mind.
Lets explore the creative pre-process, of bringing something new into being. Examine, keenly, what actually transpires during the creative act. An understanding of the all-essential subtlest, fluids, that birth work of an order absolutely breath-taking.
The first, stage, we notice during a creative encounter is it is a passion-filled, encounter. The essential key-ingredient during this fusion is the degree of "self-absorbtion." What we know as being entirely immersed, saturated, enwarapped, consumed in. Wherein, there must be a specific supra-commitment of total and utter "engagement". An engagement whereby one is so completely caught up in; or wholly involved, with that all-enveloping idea, that nothing else is allowrd to contaminate, consciousness. Every other idea-flicker is momentarily self-extinguished. So deeply consuming is concentration that we are become oblivious to things around. Any distraction. Or the passing of time, dissolves. The neddle-pointed probiscis of creation, is immersed so deep into the fragrance of creation that all else, evaporates. Just, the encounter gets magnified a million-fold.During an intense creative encounter we experience enhanced intensity of eagle-eyed vision.
Genuine creativity, is characterised by an intensity of super-heightened self-aware-ness. Heightened consciousness. Vibrant vitality and total committed purpose, whereby you and your incubating idea "fuse" into a sacred "At-One-Ness." Like, a marshmellow's being slow-turned to perfection over a flame; thought-incubation must attain a certain key temperature, whereby its baked to perfection. These are some of the emotions that accompany heightened awareness, which culminate in the actual experience of self-actualizing our peak potentialities.You cannot will creativity, or force valuable insights.
We can only will to give ourselves totally to the superior-most encounter, with intensity of purpose, self-flowering into fervour.
Allowing the proces by which pertinent well-incubated seed-ideas arise from the deeper abyss, and present themselves in the agile surface mind. Whereby you recognize and seize that idea as it reveals it's luminous, lightening-flash. This must be facilitated with razor-keen alertness.Once the subconscious provides you wit its unique insights, it is imperative and of the essence to follow through on those ideas instantly with abiding conviction and ever-evolving diligince. Even though at times, they might appear, to your conscious mind as being hair-brained. Or, having no special significence; nor any logical rational connection, or any enduring appeal. Remember, then to pursue those very ideas with a boldness such as never exerted before.
Crick and Watson received the Nobel prize for their startling discovery of DNA after a decade-long search. They, revealed what at first might seem like a never-ending wild goose chase, must not lead you off-track. Or, Marie Curie's undying devotion, and lifelong persistent self-belief that ultimately revealed to her the deeply-glowing joy through the discovery of radium.
We, often, unfortunately shy away from our own jewel-bright ideas, and insights.
Many brilliant ideas go still-born this way. IBM founder Thomas Watson revealed "To succeed double your failure rate." just don't reapeat the same mistake twice i might add. Creative flashes and rare insights do not come unsought. Thge first step always points towards a long ardous conscious mental struggle to organize a logical body of ideas to solve a problem. If after an exhaustive, tedious most frustrating search in consciousness, your solution has not arrived, do not despair. Every genius has traverssed that mandatory all-dark period.
After, the firefly of insight will pulse its glow in you. So, as you relax and turn your mind to other things, a sparkling solution illuminates and leaps into consciousness, with devastating, suddenness. For the insight to be born the conscious tension and application must be relaxed. Intermittent self-birthing periods of solitude, stillness, and contemplation are essential. After intense application with the problem, thinking about it, strugling, and juggling it inside, it becomes imperative to entertain periods of tranqullity, quisence, inside. Whereby, you switch-off.
Or, engage in something completely different.Einstein at Princeton once asked a friend, "Why is it i get my best ideas in the morning while I'm shaving?" The optimal mood for novel solutions is the an intuitive, concentration, of being outwardly shut. An inward-turned state. Outer focus, drops of. A sun-up of relevant illumunation, ideation arises.To enable break-throughs start looking at every dead-end as a sure-fire all-new beginning. Alternate periods of commitment must be combined with phases of complete relaxation. This, allows the creative insight to emerge at a moment where of transition betwen intense work and relaxation. During the all-vital phase of thought-incubation, which may be from moments, months, or years, fruitful pertinent novelties are generated by the conscious mind when engaged elesewhere.
Yet, below the level of consciousness, useful most beautiful ideas are being continually tabulated, re-arranged and combined by the subliminal. As their resultant spark ignites, in a ready receptive surface mind, you catch with instantly.Such insights never come hit and miss, but in acordance with a pattern of which one esential ingredient is our own willing commitment.Ingight is born, only, from the area to which we are most intensely committed.
During such moments there is a "click" in your mind. A conviction, or immediate certainty. Consciousness is able to single out immediately certain harmoniuos insights that are useful, only, to you.Such, the tool-kit, you carry in consciousness
There is nothing it cannot fix, except the persistent thought that you can't. Fix that and you are well on the way to idea re-illumination...
Cyrus jehangir Sataravalla
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
AUM SAINATH: CENTERING + AT-ONE-MENT
As you re-relishmeaningful moments, Nature unfolds, wonder-work for you. It can be self-triggered, anywhere you feel an "at-one-ment" with the self, and surroundings.
None, can provide a formal list of where to contact the self. Yet, some places help immeasurably, to contact with spirit. Impulse and the chanel to being-ness is arich source. That stirs the depths. What's pertinent will a-rise. A mystical experience where whats in the heart, pours, out.
The lower self once out of the way; you place yourelf full in the stream of a Greater Voice: "Be still," it exhorts. Nature points out the Way-Stations. And the Way takes hold of you, fully, irrevocably.That, self-chosen path, you must traverse. A Sanctum Sanctorum.
Out in nature beside a murmuring stream. Near bull-rush beds sit, quiet, to hear the rivulet sing. Watch tiny fish with scales mercury-tinged scales glint in gin-clear pools. Watch a kingfisher's persistent, dives. or, weaver-birds weave fluted tunnel-shaped, super-structures. Nature's lessons are eternal. Agreater full-time calss i cannot imagine. A Teacher more patient i know not of.
For, me, such centering and the resultant mind-ful-ness, could arrive anywhere.
My own response inside, is, the constant link. All, meaning is derived, here. My connection to the single sweet-spot, inside, remains an index to the unfurling magic around.
Out in the open breathing, slows, muscles uncleanch. Spirit emerges. Naturally, to roam, free. Like a desert Bedouin. My senses are not limited to five. They spread along the latitudes of my being, the escarpments of my mind like ganglia. They pass freely through me. As an eagle thermal-soaring through the ether.
In Nature-worship we need no conscious breath control. The mysterious breeze reveals the Way. Stress management courtesy, Mother Nature is like no other. Formal outer techniques, drop. Dissolve. The peel falls. Your core is revealed.
In The out-of-doors you imbibe "Yog" with the Wind. Breathe air that is fresher, cooler and theres an abundance of it.
Here one takes deep-felt breaths naturally, involuntarily, as the secret beats of ones heart. Time slows with each full in-take. Oxygen enters the lungs in full masure an into the blood-steram. Bringing renewed, super-vitality. You feel woven-in to a Greater scheme at work.In Nature you are reminded the landscape is set to a music. A rhythym, linked to a deep-centerd, silently-evolving, slow dance. The answers i searched, elswhere for slip through an azure sky, to appear of their own. When i drive a deserted stretch unfimiliar stretch of hypnotic highway during twilights magic hour, i slip, intuitively into alpha-waves, almost without being aware of it.
Those, long slow-timed brain-waves signal relaxation. There are a million self-operative alpha triggers. To attempt to list them is to miss the beauty. Select, the ones that touch you the most. The memory of smoky potatoes drawn from glowing embers. The taste of salted butter somewhere-out-there always remains. I curl content in fire-light's intimate glow. Cicadas sing me to sleep. Fresh-scented grass my sleeping-bag. The smell of earth my most fragrant memory.One of the simplest keys to the secret doorway is still a bit of solitude. A quiet spot you can call your own.Here, my mind takes-off. Sails like a hawk.Embrace, the ordinary. The fleeting little everyday moments. The boundless, awaits you, here. Re-discovery, your new-born child. Touch, yourself, here, and you will "see" life's myriad inter-woven conduits with countless all-new eyes.
Thus, you will not miss the cherubic chirrip-chirps of a sunbird, near-by. Or, the blue-black sheen on a raven-wing.Only, when you have held a leaf-blade in your hands: Examined all of it, the in-curling of a flower-petal, noted with mounting delight the notch along serrated leaf-tips, and its turning. Marked the the shpae of stigma, the fringe of stamen. Immersed, your being and breathed in that other-world, scent. Or, seen rapt bees pollinate anemones. Their pollen-laden feather weight too heavy, for the slender stems of daintly-clad flowers. Only, then do you begin, to know, more about yourself.I once saw a spider's-web in late afternoon sun. It's sparkling crystals like a diadem in the filament strands. Each, droplet reflects a shimmering iridescence in its miniature globe. I saw the surroundings, and myself, reflected jewel-bright in each planet-like supsended, drop. Im caught up in the warm web-work of Nature. The web-of-life, astounds.I once drove past a sea of orche-attired marigold, fields for as far as the eye saw. Stained maroon and gold.
The scent of marigold, remains. It comes in persistant, wave-crests. Lash, softly a palm-fringed shore-line somewhere in my mind.
That, i carry this marigold field, inside, being one part. It's atwo-way, communion.
My spirit-essence, hovers, lingers amidst those beckoning fields.A well-balanced, meaningful exchange. Such are my meditative, contemplations with Kudrat. Merely, re-opening myself to the sacred gifts around.
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
None, can provide a formal list of where to contact the self. Yet, some places help immeasurably, to contact with spirit. Impulse and the chanel to being-ness is arich source. That stirs the depths. What's pertinent will a-rise. A mystical experience where whats in the heart, pours, out.
The lower self once out of the way; you place yourelf full in the stream of a Greater Voice: "Be still," it exhorts. Nature points out the Way-Stations. And the Way takes hold of you, fully, irrevocably.That, self-chosen path, you must traverse. A Sanctum Sanctorum.
Out in nature beside a murmuring stream. Near bull-rush beds sit, quiet, to hear the rivulet sing. Watch tiny fish with scales mercury-tinged scales glint in gin-clear pools. Watch a kingfisher's persistent, dives. or, weaver-birds weave fluted tunnel-shaped, super-structures. Nature's lessons are eternal. Agreater full-time calss i cannot imagine. A Teacher more patient i know not of.
For, me, such centering and the resultant mind-ful-ness, could arrive anywhere.
My own response inside, is, the constant link. All, meaning is derived, here. My connection to the single sweet-spot, inside, remains an index to the unfurling magic around.
Out in the open breathing, slows, muscles uncleanch. Spirit emerges. Naturally, to roam, free. Like a desert Bedouin. My senses are not limited to five. They spread along the latitudes of my being, the escarpments of my mind like ganglia. They pass freely through me. As an eagle thermal-soaring through the ether.
In Nature-worship we need no conscious breath control. The mysterious breeze reveals the Way. Stress management courtesy, Mother Nature is like no other. Formal outer techniques, drop. Dissolve. The peel falls. Your core is revealed.
In The out-of-doors you imbibe "Yog" with the Wind. Breathe air that is fresher, cooler and theres an abundance of it.
Here one takes deep-felt breaths naturally, involuntarily, as the secret beats of ones heart. Time slows with each full in-take. Oxygen enters the lungs in full masure an into the blood-steram. Bringing renewed, super-vitality. You feel woven-in to a Greater scheme at work.In Nature you are reminded the landscape is set to a music. A rhythym, linked to a deep-centerd, silently-evolving, slow dance. The answers i searched, elswhere for slip through an azure sky, to appear of their own. When i drive a deserted stretch unfimiliar stretch of hypnotic highway during twilights magic hour, i slip, intuitively into alpha-waves, almost without being aware of it.
Those, long slow-timed brain-waves signal relaxation. There are a million self-operative alpha triggers. To attempt to list them is to miss the beauty. Select, the ones that touch you the most. The memory of smoky potatoes drawn from glowing embers. The taste of salted butter somewhere-out-there always remains. I curl content in fire-light's intimate glow. Cicadas sing me to sleep. Fresh-scented grass my sleeping-bag. The smell of earth my most fragrant memory.One of the simplest keys to the secret doorway is still a bit of solitude. A quiet spot you can call your own.Here, my mind takes-off. Sails like a hawk.Embrace, the ordinary. The fleeting little everyday moments. The boundless, awaits you, here. Re-discovery, your new-born child. Touch, yourself, here, and you will "see" life's myriad inter-woven conduits with countless all-new eyes.
Thus, you will not miss the cherubic chirrip-chirps of a sunbird, near-by. Or, the blue-black sheen on a raven-wing.Only, when you have held a leaf-blade in your hands: Examined all of it, the in-curling of a flower-petal, noted with mounting delight the notch along serrated leaf-tips, and its turning. Marked the the shpae of stigma, the fringe of stamen. Immersed, your being and breathed in that other-world, scent. Or, seen rapt bees pollinate anemones. Their pollen-laden feather weight too heavy, for the slender stems of daintly-clad flowers. Only, then do you begin, to know, more about yourself.I once saw a spider's-web in late afternoon sun. It's sparkling crystals like a diadem in the filament strands. Each, droplet reflects a shimmering iridescence in its miniature globe. I saw the surroundings, and myself, reflected jewel-bright in each planet-like supsended, drop. Im caught up in the warm web-work of Nature. The web-of-life, astounds.I once drove past a sea of orche-attired marigold, fields for as far as the eye saw. Stained maroon and gold.
The scent of marigold, remains. It comes in persistant, wave-crests. Lash, softly a palm-fringed shore-line somewhere in my mind.
That, i carry this marigold field, inside, being one part. It's atwo-way, communion.
My spirit-essence, hovers, lingers amidst those beckoning fields.A well-balanced, meaningful exchange. Such are my meditative, contemplations with Kudrat. Merely, re-opening myself to the sacred gifts around.
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
AUM SAINATH; THOUGHT ON FIRE
Marcel Proust revealed: "If a little dreaming is dangerous, the cure for it is not to dream less, but to dream more, to dream all the time."
Mt Everest's summit-crest towers to a sky-caressing 29,000-ft. The Mariana Trench plunges to a mind-numbing 13-km. A shallow puddle is merly a few inches deep.
Inspiration, too, has unimaginable, startling depths. One must dive to those untrammeled, perilous depths to enable the light-emmiting insight of inspiration to burn with added sparkle. To such unspeakable, staggering depths will star-bright doers willingly go. plumbing the sacred fluids that beyond astounding results birth, immortality. A bench-mark of excellence that continues to beckon and glow long after they have gone. As a tribute and memory to their immortalized deeds, i engage your mind.
What strike me most, while studying these great achievers is primarily they were just like you and me. They breathed the same air. Had, the very responsibilites, families, and everyday problems and pleasures such as we witness. They, passed through the very day we pass through. They, as well had the rent to pay. They, were not chosen ones. They choose to rise over present tribulations to an exalted plane of consciousness. A forth-dimensional view.
Yet, in spite of their share of difficulties, they devoted their life-time to a cause they considered super-sacred. Nothing, could swerve their ship's course. This works a subtler alchemy that is absolutely, irresistable. Unstoppable.
Once the compass-needle of "thought," was set, they, were willing, in fact happy to face the most intimidating consequences.This trait of forebearance made them turn bile-bitter times into melon-like, sweetness. Ultimately, reap the reward, of immortality.
I was half-awed, struck dumb and enchanted to learn, in Cuba, in 1898 when American troops were fighting, the great soul Dr. William C. Gorgas was operating on a soldier when his light in the make-shift theatre went out. Not one to be intimated or put off-balance he instructed that a bottle-full of the deep-glowing "cuckyo" fire-flies be brought instantly. By the self-luminous sparkle of those light-pulsing creatures he executed a superb surgery. Is it any wonder that some bare-foot natives, in the West Indies tie the super-dazzling "cuckyo" fire-fly to their big-toe?
The light guiding them, safely, past the darkest night. Is not your own attitude, your doggedness, and courage a fire-fly of even greater light-throwing ability? Recognize the self-luminous fire-flies that roam in the vicinity of your own mind. Be patient. Super-alert to the secret self-mastery of your own lantern-producing, light. This extra-ordinary, self-illuminating fire-fly, is found in your day-to-day ordinary, moments. As you flow with the adrenaline i present you another object-lesson. Francois Blondin the first-ever, and only, man with the exemplary dare-devil courage to cross the death-defying Niagra Falls. In tight-rope walking the name Blondin stands unrivalled, to this moment. None, surpassed the record-setting Frenchman, the Great Blondin. On Jun 30th 1859 a wire no more than the width of 2 fingers was stretched above the roaring Falls. It was two thirds of a mile long. As Blondin started the history-making trip, over the wind-whipped waters and a darkening sky, he commenced his terrifying ascent towards the Canadian shoreline, with charasteristic bravado and flamboyance he suddenly executed a back somersault. The crowd gasped.Never content to merely repeat his last performance Blondin crossed his rope on a bicycle, walked blind-folded, evn pushed a whel-barrow and, as if that wasn't proof sufficient of his incredible super-prowess went on to cook an omelete in the centre. Blondin was already more than a legend.Even these failed to satisfy his urge to excel and re-test himself. On Aug 19 1859 Blondin proclaimed he would cross the gorge carrying someone. During the walk he sent out a chilling challenge to the spectators. Would any be willing to be the first-ever human in living history to cross over with him?A hush descended. Finally, a little boy volunteered to go across. Yes, Blondin took the faith-filled boy, safely across the foaming-filled Niagara Fall. In life's arena the rewards are for those who dare make a "wee" diference. The little difference is momentous, miraculous, and something that time never can erase. Such, a difference, produces its own light of courage. This slight diamond-tipped, edge, helps distinguish a leader from the rest.It is not just talent, brains or resources.
Neither is it a fairy God-Mother, up there, sprinkling luck-orchestrating star-dust. It's an icy, steely dogged determination attitude in-grained deep in the DNA, of such super-achievers. Re-phrase that to re-read super-doers to be a highly specific force who know their mind. It is an indomitable and indefatigable super-will that births such super-natural prowess in you.What you draw into experience is entirely up-to-you.
How deep will you dive into the sea of courage be? Find out in the crystal quiescence of your own private heart.
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
Mt Everest's summit-crest towers to a sky-caressing 29,000-ft. The Mariana Trench plunges to a mind-numbing 13-km. A shallow puddle is merly a few inches deep.
Inspiration, too, has unimaginable, startling depths. One must dive to those untrammeled, perilous depths to enable the light-emmiting insight of inspiration to burn with added sparkle. To such unspeakable, staggering depths will star-bright doers willingly go. plumbing the sacred fluids that beyond astounding results birth, immortality. A bench-mark of excellence that continues to beckon and glow long after they have gone. As a tribute and memory to their immortalized deeds, i engage your mind.
What strike me most, while studying these great achievers is primarily they were just like you and me. They breathed the same air. Had, the very responsibilites, families, and everyday problems and pleasures such as we witness. They, passed through the very day we pass through. They, as well had the rent to pay. They, were not chosen ones. They choose to rise over present tribulations to an exalted plane of consciousness. A forth-dimensional view.
Yet, in spite of their share of difficulties, they devoted their life-time to a cause they considered super-sacred. Nothing, could swerve their ship's course. This works a subtler alchemy that is absolutely, irresistable. Unstoppable.
Once the compass-needle of "thought," was set, they, were willing, in fact happy to face the most intimidating consequences.This trait of forebearance made them turn bile-bitter times into melon-like, sweetness. Ultimately, reap the reward, of immortality.
I was half-awed, struck dumb and enchanted to learn, in Cuba, in 1898 when American troops were fighting, the great soul Dr. William C. Gorgas was operating on a soldier when his light in the make-shift theatre went out. Not one to be intimated or put off-balance he instructed that a bottle-full of the deep-glowing "cuckyo" fire-flies be brought instantly. By the self-luminous sparkle of those light-pulsing creatures he executed a superb surgery. Is it any wonder that some bare-foot natives, in the West Indies tie the super-dazzling "cuckyo" fire-fly to their big-toe?
The light guiding them, safely, past the darkest night. Is not your own attitude, your doggedness, and courage a fire-fly of even greater light-throwing ability? Recognize the self-luminous fire-flies that roam in the vicinity of your own mind. Be patient. Super-alert to the secret self-mastery of your own lantern-producing, light. This extra-ordinary, self-illuminating fire-fly, is found in your day-to-day ordinary, moments. As you flow with the adrenaline i present you another object-lesson. Francois Blondin the first-ever, and only, man with the exemplary dare-devil courage to cross the death-defying Niagra Falls. In tight-rope walking the name Blondin stands unrivalled, to this moment. None, surpassed the record-setting Frenchman, the Great Blondin. On Jun 30th 1859 a wire no more than the width of 2 fingers was stretched above the roaring Falls. It was two thirds of a mile long. As Blondin started the history-making trip, over the wind-whipped waters and a darkening sky, he commenced his terrifying ascent towards the Canadian shoreline, with charasteristic bravado and flamboyance he suddenly executed a back somersault. The crowd gasped.Never content to merely repeat his last performance Blondin crossed his rope on a bicycle, walked blind-folded, evn pushed a whel-barrow and, as if that wasn't proof sufficient of his incredible super-prowess went on to cook an omelete in the centre. Blondin was already more than a legend.Even these failed to satisfy his urge to excel and re-test himself. On Aug 19 1859 Blondin proclaimed he would cross the gorge carrying someone. During the walk he sent out a chilling challenge to the spectators. Would any be willing to be the first-ever human in living history to cross over with him?A hush descended. Finally, a little boy volunteered to go across. Yes, Blondin took the faith-filled boy, safely across the foaming-filled Niagara Fall. In life's arena the rewards are for those who dare make a "wee" diference. The little difference is momentous, miraculous, and something that time never can erase. Such, a difference, produces its own light of courage. This slight diamond-tipped, edge, helps distinguish a leader from the rest.It is not just talent, brains or resources.
Neither is it a fairy God-Mother, up there, sprinkling luck-orchestrating star-dust. It's an icy, steely dogged determination attitude in-grained deep in the DNA, of such super-achievers. Re-phrase that to re-read super-doers to be a highly specific force who know their mind. It is an indomitable and indefatigable super-will that births such super-natural prowess in you.What you draw into experience is entirely up-to-you.
How deep will you dive into the sea of courage be? Find out in the crystal quiescence of your own private heart.
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
AUM SAINATH: TAP-TAP-TAP
When world-acclaimed lensman Yousuf Karsh met Dr. Einstein in Feb 1948, he inquired of the legandary thinker, to what source should we look for the advancement of the world's future? "To ourselves" replied Einstein.
It's the super-steady woodpecker-like "tap-tap-tap" of a One-pointed all-consuming, dominant thought that plunges it deeper down into your ever-receptive subconscious. The initial taps on a nail, re-position it in place on a Rawl-plug. Yet, the final decisive whack! of a sledge hammer wedges it secure, sending it home. Thought, too, starts, its work and is activated, ONLY, after it establishes contact with your untrammeled in-most depths.The images nurtured in the studio of consciousness, are the mountain-fed source-origin from which experiences, self-emerge. All that we experience outside, has been self-fashioned, inside.Tjr inner unseen world is the self-creative universe.
Little, can occur outside that has not been invited, intended, from inside.
Yes. Each thought forms its own strand and becomes part of a greater filigreed web-work. We, self-stitch and spin each moment. Situations, have no hold over you. Thought, is your faithful boomerang.One message, that life breathes, more than any other: "What you focus on with all-out ardour and constancy your mind magnifies; and re-creates, and multiplies more of. It does so with exuberance and abundance. Let me demonstrate a staggering truth. In reality you create everything 'twice.' Before you materialized, manifested, any cherished desire, you had birthed it, mentally. So whatever, you point a thought-ray upon, MORE of that in-flows to you.As in any field, what aids one immeasurably is a greater receptivity.Benifits, will percolate of their own.
Think of a Hollywood classic that has captured your, imagination. Yet, ponder upon a far greater epic that determines the quality and course of your own life. These, are the life-determining pictures you view in inner-space.
No need to globe-trot to far-away Cannes for a Premier.
Produce, direct, act, and yes release your own block-buster epoch-making reality, within. Each word, or feeling registers as a mental-photograph. Even a best-loved family photo album over time yellow's and fades. The pictures in my heart have lost none of their initial lustrs, sparkle, sharpness or tone. Imagine, a movie that is life itself, whirr in the far-seeing space of your own mind. You can rely on yourself, and view results at a moments notice. The mind's sky-stretching canvas, towers beyond an Imax-screen. Making, the latter appear as a postage-stamp. Know that the minutest sights, fragrances, or sounds have been recorded in the soul.
Each such "thought-recording" is devotedly re-played, to you. These, pictures first begin to whirr-flash in the soft blue realm of a sacred womb-world.The after-glow tinge of dawn's blush paints equally the sky-line in Vancouver, Tangiers, Prayag or Shirdi. The power to change characters or the entire story, at any moment rests solely with you. Stars do not alter your destiny. Your inner-most thought hold that divine privilige. Emphatic thought flashes a powerful message, that magnetizes a paved pathway right to your goal. Your GOAL-MIND is your GOLD-MINE.
Thought, when charged in a "Special Way" is a self-guiding, self-fulfilling locked-on laser photon with One all-compelling purpose: To dock and fuse with your objective with mind-bending accuracy. The human secret Will bursts forth from a point mid-way between the eye-brows. This, is your "transmitting-station" via which you commune with all points of the cosmos. The heart is your "receiving-station." Along these two all-compelling frequency stations we experience and self-witness reality. The space that fills our cosmos is the all-knowning, self-creating ether. Thought, travels as a pre-programmed ripple-wave of UNBENDING-INTENT, along the super-sensitive ether. Light travels at 186,300-miles-persecond.
Thought, IS the light-essence itself. You are a golden-balled being of light.Einstein's theory of relativity fascinates. Years, spent self-absorbed in a pursuit of love, evaporate into unspeakable, joy. On the other hand moments spent in a work that you detest seem like tedious un-ending lifetimes. Upon these gift-rays of thought(light), have you and i travelled since aeons. Cyrus Jehangir sataravalla
It's the super-steady woodpecker-like "tap-tap-tap" of a One-pointed all-consuming, dominant thought that plunges it deeper down into your ever-receptive subconscious. The initial taps on a nail, re-position it in place on a Rawl-plug. Yet, the final decisive whack! of a sledge hammer wedges it secure, sending it home. Thought, too, starts, its work and is activated, ONLY, after it establishes contact with your untrammeled in-most depths.The images nurtured in the studio of consciousness, are the mountain-fed source-origin from which experiences, self-emerge. All that we experience outside, has been self-fashioned, inside.Tjr inner unseen world is the self-creative universe.
Little, can occur outside that has not been invited, intended, from inside.
Yes. Each thought forms its own strand and becomes part of a greater filigreed web-work. We, self-stitch and spin each moment. Situations, have no hold over you. Thought, is your faithful boomerang.One message, that life breathes, more than any other: "What you focus on with all-out ardour and constancy your mind magnifies; and re-creates, and multiplies more of. It does so with exuberance and abundance. Let me demonstrate a staggering truth. In reality you create everything 'twice.' Before you materialized, manifested, any cherished desire, you had birthed it, mentally. So whatever, you point a thought-ray upon, MORE of that in-flows to you.As in any field, what aids one immeasurably is a greater receptivity.Benifits, will percolate of their own.
Think of a Hollywood classic that has captured your, imagination. Yet, ponder upon a far greater epic that determines the quality and course of your own life. These, are the life-determining pictures you view in inner-space.
No need to globe-trot to far-away Cannes for a Premier.
Produce, direct, act, and yes release your own block-buster epoch-making reality, within. Each word, or feeling registers as a mental-photograph. Even a best-loved family photo album over time yellow's and fades. The pictures in my heart have lost none of their initial lustrs, sparkle, sharpness or tone. Imagine, a movie that is life itself, whirr in the far-seeing space of your own mind. You can rely on yourself, and view results at a moments notice. The mind's sky-stretching canvas, towers beyond an Imax-screen. Making, the latter appear as a postage-stamp. Know that the minutest sights, fragrances, or sounds have been recorded in the soul.
Each such "thought-recording" is devotedly re-played, to you. These, pictures first begin to whirr-flash in the soft blue realm of a sacred womb-world.The after-glow tinge of dawn's blush paints equally the sky-line in Vancouver, Tangiers, Prayag or Shirdi. The power to change characters or the entire story, at any moment rests solely with you. Stars do not alter your destiny. Your inner-most thought hold that divine privilige. Emphatic thought flashes a powerful message, that magnetizes a paved pathway right to your goal. Your GOAL-MIND is your GOLD-MINE.
Thought, when charged in a "Special Way" is a self-guiding, self-fulfilling locked-on laser photon with One all-compelling purpose: To dock and fuse with your objective with mind-bending accuracy. The human secret Will bursts forth from a point mid-way between the eye-brows. This, is your "transmitting-station" via which you commune with all points of the cosmos. The heart is your "receiving-station." Along these two all-compelling frequency stations we experience and self-witness reality. The space that fills our cosmos is the all-knowning, self-creating ether. Thought, travels as a pre-programmed ripple-wave of UNBENDING-INTENT, along the super-sensitive ether. Light travels at 186,300-miles-persecond.
Thought, IS the light-essence itself. You are a golden-balled being of light.Einstein's theory of relativity fascinates. Years, spent self-absorbed in a pursuit of love, evaporate into unspeakable, joy. On the other hand moments spent in a work that you detest seem like tedious un-ending lifetimes. Upon these gift-rays of thought(light), have you and i travelled since aeons. Cyrus Jehangir sataravalla
AUM SAINATH: SECRET OF SUNBIRDS
Divinity, is ebmbedded in you. An indescribable iredescence as in mother-of-pearl. You, carry it wherever you go. As you do D.N.A. As a coconut carries its kernel. As pollen 'clings' to nectar-gathering bee's.
Might one search, a-far, for ones finger-print, pattern? Like a bull yoked to a plough-share, from moment-to-moment you are self-saturated, intimately, by that Force hidden, within. Like the glitter in a dragon-fly wing, the sparkle of certain moments is, immeasurable.
On the wing-breath of deja vu, you, instinctively recall your most stunning, spiritually-loaded memories. Thought, is your probiscus. Through it you sip, lustily off your happily-ever-after, moments.
Sunbirds, i will always adore. Intesely active in the ever-evolving fury of their flight, they put out more enrgy, for their teeney-weeny size, than any creature that i know. For me, this avian wonder-bird, brings something all-new. Their dulcet calls as they plunge deeper, yet, into fructose-loaded fuschia blossoms; half-hidden from view.As i marvel at the exuberance of their whirr-buzz, and forawrd-aft flight im reminded of an astonishing truth, that they have adapted to with praise-worthy prowess. Remarkable aplomb. A feat that these birds of arresting, most enviable plumage so valiantly, stoically must face up to.
For sustenance, this prodigious, pint-sized dynamo must, daily, sip a required amount of nectar from the honey-saturated flower-shrubs. Or, drop dead.
The "hummer" is acutely aware of this nectar-gathering, life-determining need. To fuel their miniature but super-efficient furnaces, some sun-birds eat half their weight in sugar daily, along with vital proteins in the form of of speck-sized insects, and the odd aperetif of, a fruit-fly. Measured in human terms, this food in-take is the equivalent of 285-pounds a day. So this fiesty sun-adoring creature sets about to meet its challenge with characteristic, self-reliance, and inherent resplendence. Precious, moisture is drawn from the all-valuable half-moment at hand.
The very reason they "decide" to hover, and stay all-close to those life-enhansing blossoms. The Cuban bee hummingbird is often mistaken for a bumble-bee. The smallest of the small. Its weight a mere 2-grams. It behoves and speaks of an intilligence that is not just a-blaze. Its in-dwelling self-aware-ness demonstrates a force beyond super-focus, to a realm we humans, speak about, in whispers: Satori or En-light-en-ment.As i marvel at them dive-bomb, effortlessly in and out flower's, i shudder runs down my spine. No text-book, or out-of-the-box method do they need, to study. They, are self-absorded, Naturally. Their point of focus, is concentrated ONLY, at what they are MEANT, to do.
Its truth is a poignent reminder most of all, to, me. It is geared for superb flight, ONLY. Never in my own life-time have i seen a sunbird sit, or walk on the ground. Never ever. But, just look at how adroitly, they have compensated this shortfall, of being denied to hop-about; as other birds do. So, they learnt to make up for it. They rechanneled their super-abundance, elsewhere. Making, the never-ending sky their home-sweet-home.
They demonstrate to thrive and flourish and re-sound with whatever you have.A trait i deeply revere and so admire. Something in the bird's honeyed chirp exhorts: "Who cares if i can't hop, just watch me fly." A promise they have lived upto entirely. They are, for instance, the only birds that can fly back-wards, side-ways. Self-balance, and hover motionless, in mid-air like a miniature helicopter for indefinite, periods.
Their wing-beats accomplish double duty. Most birds derive power only on the down-stroke of the wing. Humming-birds derive it on the up-stroke as well. Hummers have self-adapted themselves to remain ever-happy, withstanding, the rigours of high-G flight manoeuvers.They are exceptionally fiesty birds and dive-bomb menacing hawks, 100-times their size. You, need not wander or search far for what already is in you. Outward, search only takes you further away, from home. Home, is where your heart is gathered. Your ability to immerse the needle-point of focus, far and deep into the heart of your moments, is where you can suck deep-felt lung-fulls of an ambrosia utterly divine...Drink deep draughts from the flower-moments around you.
Hover atop, ONLY those moments that are spiritually-loaded. Which hold deeper spiritual significence to you. Such are your cherished Haiku-like moments. Ones, you will find yourself returning to time and again. As a bird, must, to its nest.
A Zen Garden such as this of over-flowing simplicity you have carried since you where born. Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
Might one search, a-far, for ones finger-print, pattern? Like a bull yoked to a plough-share, from moment-to-moment you are self-saturated, intimately, by that Force hidden, within. Like the glitter in a dragon-fly wing, the sparkle of certain moments is, immeasurable.
On the wing-breath of deja vu, you, instinctively recall your most stunning, spiritually-loaded memories. Thought, is your probiscus. Through it you sip, lustily off your happily-ever-after, moments.
Sunbirds, i will always adore. Intesely active in the ever-evolving fury of their flight, they put out more enrgy, for their teeney-weeny size, than any creature that i know. For me, this avian wonder-bird, brings something all-new. Their dulcet calls as they plunge deeper, yet, into fructose-loaded fuschia blossoms; half-hidden from view.As i marvel at the exuberance of their whirr-buzz, and forawrd-aft flight im reminded of an astonishing truth, that they have adapted to with praise-worthy prowess. Remarkable aplomb. A feat that these birds of arresting, most enviable plumage so valiantly, stoically must face up to.
For sustenance, this prodigious, pint-sized dynamo must, daily, sip a required amount of nectar from the honey-saturated flower-shrubs. Or, drop dead.
The "hummer" is acutely aware of this nectar-gathering, life-determining need. To fuel their miniature but super-efficient furnaces, some sun-birds eat half their weight in sugar daily, along with vital proteins in the form of of speck-sized insects, and the odd aperetif of, a fruit-fly. Measured in human terms, this food in-take is the equivalent of 285-pounds a day. So this fiesty sun-adoring creature sets about to meet its challenge with characteristic, self-reliance, and inherent resplendence. Precious, moisture is drawn from the all-valuable half-moment at hand.
The very reason they "decide" to hover, and stay all-close to those life-enhansing blossoms. The Cuban bee hummingbird is often mistaken for a bumble-bee. The smallest of the small. Its weight a mere 2-grams. It behoves and speaks of an intilligence that is not just a-blaze. Its in-dwelling self-aware-ness demonstrates a force beyond super-focus, to a realm we humans, speak about, in whispers: Satori or En-light-en-ment.As i marvel at them dive-bomb, effortlessly in and out flower's, i shudder runs down my spine. No text-book, or out-of-the-box method do they need, to study. They, are self-absorded, Naturally. Their point of focus, is concentrated ONLY, at what they are MEANT, to do.
Its truth is a poignent reminder most of all, to, me. It is geared for superb flight, ONLY. Never in my own life-time have i seen a sunbird sit, or walk on the ground. Never ever. But, just look at how adroitly, they have compensated this shortfall, of being denied to hop-about; as other birds do. So, they learnt to make up for it. They rechanneled their super-abundance, elsewhere. Making, the never-ending sky their home-sweet-home.
They demonstrate to thrive and flourish and re-sound with whatever you have.A trait i deeply revere and so admire. Something in the bird's honeyed chirp exhorts: "Who cares if i can't hop, just watch me fly." A promise they have lived upto entirely. They are, for instance, the only birds that can fly back-wards, side-ways. Self-balance, and hover motionless, in mid-air like a miniature helicopter for indefinite, periods.
Their wing-beats accomplish double duty. Most birds derive power only on the down-stroke of the wing. Humming-birds derive it on the up-stroke as well. Hummers have self-adapted themselves to remain ever-happy, withstanding, the rigours of high-G flight manoeuvers.They are exceptionally fiesty birds and dive-bomb menacing hawks, 100-times their size. You, need not wander or search far for what already is in you. Outward, search only takes you further away, from home. Home, is where your heart is gathered. Your ability to immerse the needle-point of focus, far and deep into the heart of your moments, is where you can suck deep-felt lung-fulls of an ambrosia utterly divine...Drink deep draughts from the flower-moments around you.
Hover atop, ONLY those moments that are spiritually-loaded. Which hold deeper spiritual significence to you. Such are your cherished Haiku-like moments. Ones, you will find yourself returning to time and again. As a bird, must, to its nest.
A Zen Garden such as this of over-flowing simplicity you have carried since you where born. Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
AUM SAINATH; IRRESISTIBLE HIGH-G PULL OF GREAT A DREAM
"...There's more to us than surgeons can remove. So much more that we were born to do... On a Clear Day rise and look around you and the glow of your being out-shines every star..." This one-liner from Frank Sinatra's 'On a Clear Day" holds incalculabe encouragemet, and breathes unparalled meaning, to me. In-between the lines is a parallel universe...
There is a loving Source, a sower of dreams, just waiting to be asked to guide and aid you make your impossible dreams true.When you ask the Creator for any gift ensure it is of superb magnificence. High-minded and most worthy. From dreams of such magnitude you develop a mighty all-compelling prowess. Of such such a heavenly latitude must be the immensity of your dream, that you, instinctly need to call upon the aid of THAT Higher Force. Let not just man be witness to the magnitude of your dream. Permit, far-flung stars to half-blink and acknowledge in awe your after-glow.Over and above the human super-will, incesantly, self-operates the Divine Supernal Will.
To activate the all-compelling super-conscious Law of accomplishment seek divine aid and insight in all you do.In such a fervent call, arrives a gravity-defying, utterly devastating cosmic voltage. It is such a two-way chanel's Presence that you make yourself completely, available. In all moments, be entirely aware, that it is never you, who can use THAT power, as making yourself available and in-tune, to permitting THAT power to "use you." If you believe then with a faith-filled heart go-ahaed and ask. The devotion, with which you ask the all-listening Infinite is the receiving-line upon which God Answers, Directly.
Remember, it is certain, especially when it seems impossible. Just as we dream dreams, life is also a dream dreaming us.
Shakespeare says it well: "We are such stuff, As dreams are made of, And our little life, Is rounded with a sleep." You are in possession of an unfathomable, superior-most, lightening rod of human progress, when your dream crackles with the secret cosmic charge to benifit all life. Little dreams are the dreams that people have about their own lives. Great dreams are the gravity-defying, epoch-making dreams that powerfully influence and meaningfully impact the lives of, "all" people.Deep-felt dreams are too powerful to ignore. They, come into consciousness with a stark, suddenness that can take one completely off-balance by surprise. At first, it might seem the dream is far-flung, in the back-of-beyond, half-hideden hazy distance. Yet, they can loom up and jolt you with uncanny super-Natural swiftness.
A flickering spark on the distant horizon, till its deeply-glowing jewel-bright luminescence gets brighter each moment, before an eye-blink it is upon you.Dreams, can, at times self-spring as if from out of nowhere. The, element of surprise is never far. Dreams, of such intensity leap upon you with the fierceness, vitality and certitude of a tiger.Deeply-orchestrated dreams are jewel-bright and magnetize, self-illumine, instantly. Similar to the irresistable, ferocious, pull a deep-sea angler senses when a 1500-lb Blue Marlin takes hold of the lure.
So powerful is the "pull" of a marlin that it can easily wrench the angler right out from his strapped-in chair. When you have a dream no less momentous and life-touching at the other end of your "Thought-Line", trust me, for you will know most certainly. Such are the kind of dreams to fervently cast for with devout diligence, and supreme faith. In the vastness of the ocean of consciousness.
Remember, you cast, ONLY, for that one all-compellign dream. The sea of thoughts hold an array of dreams. You, must be in a deed-centered accord with th specific, thought you wish to hook-in to.In shallow mind's the fingerlings of small thoughts are prone to create commotion. In oceanic mind's the whales of insight cause not even a ripple-crest....
Find out what long-overdue promises to yourself are gathering cobwebs in some long-forgotten corridor of your mind. Bring those seed-dreams out into the diamond-bright sun-dazzle of "intention" through "i-can i-will" consciousness.
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
There is a loving Source, a sower of dreams, just waiting to be asked to guide and aid you make your impossible dreams true.When you ask the Creator for any gift ensure it is of superb magnificence. High-minded and most worthy. From dreams of such magnitude you develop a mighty all-compelling prowess. Of such such a heavenly latitude must be the immensity of your dream, that you, instinctly need to call upon the aid of THAT Higher Force. Let not just man be witness to the magnitude of your dream. Permit, far-flung stars to half-blink and acknowledge in awe your after-glow.Over and above the human super-will, incesantly, self-operates the Divine Supernal Will.
To activate the all-compelling super-conscious Law of accomplishment seek divine aid and insight in all you do.In such a fervent call, arrives a gravity-defying, utterly devastating cosmic voltage. It is such a two-way chanel's Presence that you make yourself completely, available. In all moments, be entirely aware, that it is never you, who can use THAT power, as making yourself available and in-tune, to permitting THAT power to "use you." If you believe then with a faith-filled heart go-ahaed and ask. The devotion, with which you ask the all-listening Infinite is the receiving-line upon which God Answers, Directly.
Remember, it is certain, especially when it seems impossible. Just as we dream dreams, life is also a dream dreaming us.
Shakespeare says it well: "We are such stuff, As dreams are made of, And our little life, Is rounded with a sleep." You are in possession of an unfathomable, superior-most, lightening rod of human progress, when your dream crackles with the secret cosmic charge to benifit all life. Little dreams are the dreams that people have about their own lives. Great dreams are the gravity-defying, epoch-making dreams that powerfully influence and meaningfully impact the lives of, "all" people.Deep-felt dreams are too powerful to ignore. They, come into consciousness with a stark, suddenness that can take one completely off-balance by surprise. At first, it might seem the dream is far-flung, in the back-of-beyond, half-hideden hazy distance. Yet, they can loom up and jolt you with uncanny super-Natural swiftness.
A flickering spark on the distant horizon, till its deeply-glowing jewel-bright luminescence gets brighter each moment, before an eye-blink it is upon you.Dreams, can, at times self-spring as if from out of nowhere. The, element of surprise is never far. Dreams, of such intensity leap upon you with the fierceness, vitality and certitude of a tiger.Deeply-orchestrated dreams are jewel-bright and magnetize, self-illumine, instantly. Similar to the irresistable, ferocious, pull a deep-sea angler senses when a 1500-lb Blue Marlin takes hold of the lure.
So powerful is the "pull" of a marlin that it can easily wrench the angler right out from his strapped-in chair. When you have a dream no less momentous and life-touching at the other end of your "Thought-Line", trust me, for you will know most certainly. Such are the kind of dreams to fervently cast for with devout diligence, and supreme faith. In the vastness of the ocean of consciousness.
Remember, you cast, ONLY, for that one all-compellign dream. The sea of thoughts hold an array of dreams. You, must be in a deed-centered accord with th specific, thought you wish to hook-in to.In shallow mind's the fingerlings of small thoughts are prone to create commotion. In oceanic mind's the whales of insight cause not even a ripple-crest....
Find out what long-overdue promises to yourself are gathering cobwebs in some long-forgotten corridor of your mind. Bring those seed-dreams out into the diamond-bright sun-dazzle of "intention" through "i-can i-will" consciousness.
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
Monday, May 26, 2008
AUM SAINATH: SOUL DESTINY
To re-discover soul destiny and make a life in accord with nthe deep-centered rhythm of the cosmos, brings meaning to our journeys. During self-discovery you intuitively re-call with super-clarity, your true place in the vast scheme of things.
Let is not be the thought that carries, you away. At all times, it must be you who are in charge of thought's trajectory. Like eagles, instinctively select, specific, thermals to thermal-glide at astonishing velocity. This prowess, to self-steer, via specific thermals, only, is their secret to exuberant, effortless flight.
You, too must master, how to 'ride' conducive forward-propelling thought-currents.On the celestial self-steering path to soul destiny, certain thought-thermals, only, keep you on lock-on mode.
Such an eagle patrols, the secret thermals that traverse the hidden currents of your mind.Our lives are structured with one truth, beyond, any other: The 'means' to self-fulfill our destiny. You, carry the seed-spawn to make things happen. So, seize what you have this moment. There are infinite wheels within wheels, that churn to an outwardly slow, but surely-evolving sequence. Into such a self-balancing structure are you a vital cog.You, are the one person in the universe who must "know" what you cherish, most. There is none best suited to write your life's story, than, you. Might another do justice to what you arte destined to reveal, and at last un-veil? Each has a saga utterly individual. What will your story be? Your moment has self-arrived. Go where you will, do what you may, yet soul destiny's pull will be unmistakable. Should, you for some time wander off-course aimlessly, during a sand-storm, feel not overly bereft, or crest-fallen.
That you wandered off-course for a moment must not be seen as being out-of-place. no matter how dismal or glowering the present hour, keep your composure. View it in deep accord with something 'more' you "intended" to learn. The oceans, or a water-puddle must fall equally under the gravitational grip of the moon. Such is the field of forces at work in you. The gravitational force of your destiny will re-aligh and bring you back on-track.I watch the quiet stars, suspended motionless, and sense this truth with staggering, impact. Each, star glitters exactly where it must.
The universe is beyond any need of man-made intervention. Planets, whirl to a clock-work plan, and are kept bang-on course. In accordance with a Will and Sacred Plan beyond the ken of the wisest man.Into the centre of a constellation no less hallowed, are, you propitiously positioned. The wisdom encoded in our Yoga Vashishta helps immeasurable to keep things in perspective: "Vast worlds lie hidden within the hollows of each atom, multifarious as the motes in a sunbeam." I see soul destiny as the single most sacred task, the universe entrusts us with to self-fulfill. There is a delicate balance beyond endless analysis. To know, that each particle follows a tailored perfectly-structured plan, in accord with its inherent place in the infinity that is the cosmos, is on the one hand mind-bending. Yet, on the other it is poignant, all-revealing, and humbling.
You, already are a master-of-the-impossible.Once, you taste the potency of the taming the impossible othe roads appear, timid, docile and bland.In such enlightened company your spirit ascends to an invincible, unstoppable crescendo. From the many notes in consciousness, one chime is unmistakable. Its music to you. As it chimes, yoiu are reminded ONLY of you all-unique soul-destiny.
Myriad celestial gift-rays, converge into one all-sharp point. In a half-flash you recognize the half-moment. Your soul-destiny has at lasts found, you. In the quiet of your heart, attune yourself with your life's ultimate purpose. Then, do the one thing in the world you most love.
Make your credo: "I believe, because it is impossible."A 6-day-old zebra foal out of a shimmering sea of 1000 black-and-white stripes, is able instantly to recognize and find its Mother.
Destiny, is calling out your name... listen-in now..
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
Let is not be the thought that carries, you away. At all times, it must be you who are in charge of thought's trajectory. Like eagles, instinctively select, specific, thermals to thermal-glide at astonishing velocity. This prowess, to self-steer, via specific thermals, only, is their secret to exuberant, effortless flight.
You, too must master, how to 'ride' conducive forward-propelling thought-currents.On the celestial self-steering path to soul destiny, certain thought-thermals, only, keep you on lock-on mode.
Such an eagle patrols, the secret thermals that traverse the hidden currents of your mind.Our lives are structured with one truth, beyond, any other: The 'means' to self-fulfill our destiny. You, carry the seed-spawn to make things happen. So, seize what you have this moment. There are infinite wheels within wheels, that churn to an outwardly slow, but surely-evolving sequence. Into such a self-balancing structure are you a vital cog.You, are the one person in the universe who must "know" what you cherish, most. There is none best suited to write your life's story, than, you. Might another do justice to what you arte destined to reveal, and at last un-veil? Each has a saga utterly individual. What will your story be? Your moment has self-arrived. Go where you will, do what you may, yet soul destiny's pull will be unmistakable. Should, you for some time wander off-course aimlessly, during a sand-storm, feel not overly bereft, or crest-fallen.
That you wandered off-course for a moment must not be seen as being out-of-place. no matter how dismal or glowering the present hour, keep your composure. View it in deep accord with something 'more' you "intended" to learn. The oceans, or a water-puddle must fall equally under the gravitational grip of the moon. Such is the field of forces at work in you. The gravitational force of your destiny will re-aligh and bring you back on-track.I watch the quiet stars, suspended motionless, and sense this truth with staggering, impact. Each, star glitters exactly where it must.
The universe is beyond any need of man-made intervention. Planets, whirl to a clock-work plan, and are kept bang-on course. In accordance with a Will and Sacred Plan beyond the ken of the wisest man.Into the centre of a constellation no less hallowed, are, you propitiously positioned. The wisdom encoded in our Yoga Vashishta helps immeasurable to keep things in perspective: "Vast worlds lie hidden within the hollows of each atom, multifarious as the motes in a sunbeam." I see soul destiny as the single most sacred task, the universe entrusts us with to self-fulfill. There is a delicate balance beyond endless analysis. To know, that each particle follows a tailored perfectly-structured plan, in accord with its inherent place in the infinity that is the cosmos, is on the one hand mind-bending. Yet, on the other it is poignant, all-revealing, and humbling.
You, already are a master-of-the-impossible.Once, you taste the potency of the taming the impossible othe roads appear, timid, docile and bland.In such enlightened company your spirit ascends to an invincible, unstoppable crescendo. From the many notes in consciousness, one chime is unmistakable. Its music to you. As it chimes, yoiu are reminded ONLY of you all-unique soul-destiny.
Myriad celestial gift-rays, converge into one all-sharp point. In a half-flash you recognize the half-moment. Your soul-destiny has at lasts found, you. In the quiet of your heart, attune yourself with your life's ultimate purpose. Then, do the one thing in the world you most love.
Make your credo: "I believe, because it is impossible."A 6-day-old zebra foal out of a shimmering sea of 1000 black-and-white stripes, is able instantly to recognize and find its Mother.
Destiny, is calling out your name... listen-in now..
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
AUM SAINATH: FIELD-OF-AWARENESS
The web-structure of our world is stream-lined to a blazing Supra-intilligence. An all-orchestrating fusion of self-alighed particles engaged to a slow-revolving cosmic, ever-evolving dance: "Life."
Through, the in-dwelling force of will, and visualization, those in-tune with the light-essence, sacred order, of the universe can turn any desire to reality. Each thought-ray, is a neucleus of super-dazzling quantums of light-beams.
Self-belief, re-aligns these motes of light and sound-waves that flow un-impeded through stellar and inter-stellar space. Solidifying the un-seen inner intangible into outer tangible, reality.
Dr. Einstein's insight aids immeasurably in connecting me instantly with your mind frequency: "The most beautiful thing we can experience is the musterious. It is the source of all true art and science."
Mull in mind to eschew that the so-called un-known, already "knows" all. To call it un-known is a misnomer. View, instead the limited known as a pre-faculty to asscees wisdom and light from all-knowing, un-known. The faculties making up the myopic known are a pin-head before the un-seen. So readily we refer to the known to encompass, all.It holds not even a fraction of what already resides in the un-known.
Ultimately, we may even find, that what cannot be knowm, is infinitely more revealing than all that we know. The known is a speck-like star-ship, docked to the infinity-gazing Mother Galaxy of the "un-known." Yet, from the limited dimensions of the known we must continue to seek the un-known. This thought hit me with the sharpness of a thunder-clap. What lies, just beyond, the threshold of the un-familiar urges, and beckons you to re-discover. This must not be confused with being, "out-of-sight."atahrough an adrent inquisitive and all-dold search beyond the luxury of those all-too-familiar self-limiting pastures an all-bold search to the un-known, will make some of its well-kept secrets, known.
The poet-philosopher Novalis left us this intriguing, provocative, absolutely mind-bending, thought: "All that's visible clings to the invisible, the audible to the inaudible; the tangible to the intangible; perhaps, the thinkable to the un-thinkable."I wonder if Uri Geller is reading these thoughts. Spoon-twisting, and fork-bending, doubtless, is possible by the steady application of thought's kinetic energy.Yet, more crucial realms call out and need to be altered. Recognized, and used for the forward sacred progress of mankind.
To twist or contort spoons is one thing. To exert, instead, a benificial influence and re-align consciousness to something far more altruistic, is what i stress. Pre-conceived limitation, in thought, is an area which must be given a long, hard second look. On worthier, and higher-minded pursuits must, we steadily focus our combined mental gaze.
Let not the superior-most interior-dwelling resources be frittered, frivilously, on the mundane. Turn Novalis's thought which way you like, on the kaleidoscope of consciousness and it reflects unfathomed possibliities. Beyond anything, the un-known aticulates, elucidates the un-spoken. Views the un-seen. Listens-in to the un-heard.Out of the deeper silence, emerges a small voice. You hear and intuit what is applicalble and suitable ONLY to you.You, step into a self-sown, wild-growing, self-perpetuating field of consciousness.
Where self-aware-ness blooms. As you kneel to inhale deep the fragrance of a single purple-hued flower, a wave-crest of deja vu brings you back to your subtlest Higher Sense: Every single one of those sea of flowers your are immersed in "are" "thought-blooms" you once tended in the not-so-distant past ...
In a self-sown field of awareness such as this we stroll, happily-ever-after...
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
Through, the in-dwelling force of will, and visualization, those in-tune with the light-essence, sacred order, of the universe can turn any desire to reality. Each thought-ray, is a neucleus of super-dazzling quantums of light-beams.
Self-belief, re-aligns these motes of light and sound-waves that flow un-impeded through stellar and inter-stellar space. Solidifying the un-seen inner intangible into outer tangible, reality.
Dr. Einstein's insight aids immeasurably in connecting me instantly with your mind frequency: "The most beautiful thing we can experience is the musterious. It is the source of all true art and science."
Mull in mind to eschew that the so-called un-known, already "knows" all. To call it un-known is a misnomer. View, instead the limited known as a pre-faculty to asscees wisdom and light from all-knowing, un-known. The faculties making up the myopic known are a pin-head before the un-seen. So readily we refer to the known to encompass, all.It holds not even a fraction of what already resides in the un-known.
Ultimately, we may even find, that what cannot be knowm, is infinitely more revealing than all that we know. The known is a speck-like star-ship, docked to the infinity-gazing Mother Galaxy of the "un-known." Yet, from the limited dimensions of the known we must continue to seek the un-known. This thought hit me with the sharpness of a thunder-clap. What lies, just beyond, the threshold of the un-familiar urges, and beckons you to re-discover. This must not be confused with being, "out-of-sight."atahrough an adrent inquisitive and all-dold search beyond the luxury of those all-too-familiar self-limiting pastures an all-bold search to the un-known, will make some of its well-kept secrets, known.
The poet-philosopher Novalis left us this intriguing, provocative, absolutely mind-bending, thought: "All that's visible clings to the invisible, the audible to the inaudible; the tangible to the intangible; perhaps, the thinkable to the un-thinkable."I wonder if Uri Geller is reading these thoughts. Spoon-twisting, and fork-bending, doubtless, is possible by the steady application of thought's kinetic energy.Yet, more crucial realms call out and need to be altered. Recognized, and used for the forward sacred progress of mankind.
To twist or contort spoons is one thing. To exert, instead, a benificial influence and re-align consciousness to something far more altruistic, is what i stress. Pre-conceived limitation, in thought, is an area which must be given a long, hard second look. On worthier, and higher-minded pursuits must, we steadily focus our combined mental gaze.
Let not the superior-most interior-dwelling resources be frittered, frivilously, on the mundane. Turn Novalis's thought which way you like, on the kaleidoscope of consciousness and it reflects unfathomed possibliities. Beyond anything, the un-known aticulates, elucidates the un-spoken. Views the un-seen. Listens-in to the un-heard.Out of the deeper silence, emerges a small voice. You hear and intuit what is applicalble and suitable ONLY to you.You, step into a self-sown, wild-growing, self-perpetuating field of consciousness.
Where self-aware-ness blooms. As you kneel to inhale deep the fragrance of a single purple-hued flower, a wave-crest of deja vu brings you back to your subtlest Higher Sense: Every single one of those sea of flowers your are immersed in "are" "thought-blooms" you once tended in the not-so-distant past ...
In a self-sown field of awareness such as this we stroll, happily-ever-after...
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
Sunday, May 25, 2008
AUM SAINATH: RECALL OF BEAUTY-FILLED MOMENTS
Whatever you concentrate your attention one-pointedly upon your energy travels right there. The diamond-bright point of your focus, becomes your reality.
Conventionall, we think of "repetition" as mind-numbing. Deadening, but in a spiritual practise, repetition done with delight renews the freshness, the originality; bringing a gem-sharp brighteness of spontaneity. Doing some awareness work re-sharpens your point of perspective, immeasurably. Life, begins to fit together. The weaving becomes elegant. You, feel, the artistry moving through a web of hidden conduits.
Recall, or re-remembrance of beauty is something i have chosen, deliberately. We have become comfortable and used to the re-call of negative emotions. Zoomin-in and allowing them all-too-frequent access. Sift, through the patters that, emerge. Retain, and recognize worthwhile seed-memories. Discard, permanently unproductive thorn-seeds. Concentrate, and allow with un-divided attention your remembrance to settle upon seed-beds of faith, Grace, transcendence, or to endure. There are varied ornate Gate-Ways in consciousness. Trust that the right Gate, will, swing wide-open at a mere mental, touch.Life, stretches out from moment-to-moment, in stupendous infinitude.For me, it is from the fleeting and obvious, that the supra-transcendental, is witnessed with an all-new inner eye. I remind myself not to become complacent and take for granted, all that is mistaken for "repetition."
So each time im blessed to watch a sun-up, this truth makes its Presence felt, with enhanced intensity. We dwell in the orchard of our own actions. Each experience being the well-deserved harvest of our in-most thought.Does you consider the life-rhythym of your wave-breath or heart-beats, as monotonous, repetitive? No matter how namy times your name is repeated it will remain utterly sweet-sounding. Your heart-beats on an average 6,22,0800-tims in a single day.
Mundane or monotonous most certainly, is not a thought associated to the constant beating.
Each time i gaze upon a star-pricked heaven, it is the first. a sense of awe sweeps past me each time that i do. Listen-in to the encouragement from stars. It occurs countless times, yet, the richness, warmt and wonder-ment are only enhanced. When i see a wild-growing daisy grow out of the sidewalk cement, it impacts my senses, immeasurably.Your own appreciative "response" to the everyday ordainary sight creates a momentous difference in the quality of our earth lives. We, beauty-adoring beings, and need continually, to commune with the wonderment, within. The, "ONLY" repetition to curtail, and urgently 'drop' is the the one that shuts or blinds one to the ever-beckoning, wonders. Self-defeating worn-out imagery needs to be relegated, here-now. Drop, repeating what doesn't work for you.
The essence of real beauty may be gathered from the common-place.Such appreciation will ennoble you. The focus of a nectar-gathering bee, is never on honey, and is not honey-making the single task it performs with un-diminishing, aplomb. They hover, close-by, to flowers, naturally.Like a bee, precious half-moments, are the elixir from which we derive our deepest, meaning.
Our surface mind's tend to forget powerful memories. Most fragile its memory. Can you remember what you wore a week ago? The nine months in a Motherr' sacred womb-world we are prone to so easily, forget. Is it not strange that such a home as all-encompassing as this, that we were in-extricably attached to is forgotten so fast?
Yet, even now, listen inwardly to re-remember your most beautiful memories. Then, on the subtler wings of breath, soul-memories dulcet voice, returns, to remind you and bring to re-call the relavance and message of life-times.
A surreal field of deja vu, unbidden wafts its super-natural scent, your way. In a flash, you recall with sharp-sightedness, long-forgotten seed-memories. That field of flowers of such exceptional brightness and hues, you roam waist-deep in rapt wonder...
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
Conventionall, we think of "repetition" as mind-numbing. Deadening, but in a spiritual practise, repetition done with delight renews the freshness, the originality; bringing a gem-sharp brighteness of spontaneity. Doing some awareness work re-sharpens your point of perspective, immeasurably. Life, begins to fit together. The weaving becomes elegant. You, feel, the artistry moving through a web of hidden conduits.
Recall, or re-remembrance of beauty is something i have chosen, deliberately. We have become comfortable and used to the re-call of negative emotions. Zoomin-in and allowing them all-too-frequent access. Sift, through the patters that, emerge. Retain, and recognize worthwhile seed-memories. Discard, permanently unproductive thorn-seeds. Concentrate, and allow with un-divided attention your remembrance to settle upon seed-beds of faith, Grace, transcendence, or to endure. There are varied ornate Gate-Ways in consciousness. Trust that the right Gate, will, swing wide-open at a mere mental, touch.Life, stretches out from moment-to-moment, in stupendous infinitude.For me, it is from the fleeting and obvious, that the supra-transcendental, is witnessed with an all-new inner eye. I remind myself not to become complacent and take for granted, all that is mistaken for "repetition."
So each time im blessed to watch a sun-up, this truth makes its Presence felt, with enhanced intensity. We dwell in the orchard of our own actions. Each experience being the well-deserved harvest of our in-most thought.Does you consider the life-rhythym of your wave-breath or heart-beats, as monotonous, repetitive? No matter how namy times your name is repeated it will remain utterly sweet-sounding. Your heart-beats on an average 6,22,0800-tims in a single day.
Mundane or monotonous most certainly, is not a thought associated to the constant beating.
Each time i gaze upon a star-pricked heaven, it is the first. a sense of awe sweeps past me each time that i do. Listen-in to the encouragement from stars. It occurs countless times, yet, the richness, warmt and wonder-ment are only enhanced. When i see a wild-growing daisy grow out of the sidewalk cement, it impacts my senses, immeasurably.Your own appreciative "response" to the everyday ordainary sight creates a momentous difference in the quality of our earth lives. We, beauty-adoring beings, and need continually, to commune with the wonderment, within. The, "ONLY" repetition to curtail, and urgently 'drop' is the the one that shuts or blinds one to the ever-beckoning, wonders. Self-defeating worn-out imagery needs to be relegated, here-now. Drop, repeating what doesn't work for you.
The essence of real beauty may be gathered from the common-place.Such appreciation will ennoble you. The focus of a nectar-gathering bee, is never on honey, and is not honey-making the single task it performs with un-diminishing, aplomb. They hover, close-by, to flowers, naturally.Like a bee, precious half-moments, are the elixir from which we derive our deepest, meaning.
Our surface mind's tend to forget powerful memories. Most fragile its memory. Can you remember what you wore a week ago? The nine months in a Motherr' sacred womb-world we are prone to so easily, forget. Is it not strange that such a home as all-encompassing as this, that we were in-extricably attached to is forgotten so fast?
Yet, even now, listen inwardly to re-remember your most beautiful memories. Then, on the subtler wings of breath, soul-memories dulcet voice, returns, to remind you and bring to re-call the relavance and message of life-times.
A surreal field of deja vu, unbidden wafts its super-natural scent, your way. In a flash, you recall with sharp-sightedness, long-forgotten seed-memories. That field of flowers of such exceptional brightness and hues, you roam waist-deep in rapt wonder...
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
AUM SAINATH: THOUGHT-VIBRATIONS MIND-RAYS
"Vibrations," are the subtler mental-forces which pervade your world. Vibrations, ultimately, determine your just place in the grander scheme of things. Everything, falls with its gamut. It, is akin to a unfathomable, sacred hollow from which all that is beauty-filled can be commanded, and drawn irresistably to you. Knowingly, or un-knowingly, right up-to-now, you have, accesed every one of your experiences, directly from the sacred vibratory-field. That, you are drawn to this article, this moment, is also, through vibrations self-pulling gravitational, field.
Everything we perceive, or know is a direct result of how we access this field-of-vibrations. Should you desire, to be successful then stay close to success-minded people. If you intend to awaken the genius, inside you, keep in the vicinity with those in-tune with path-breaking ideas. Your field-of-awareness, constantly, makes you self-evolve and grow into a mirror-image of the company you keep. Thoughts, are visitors. Be-aware of your often-invited visitors. Call, only, ones that uplift. Those, that radiate untold delight, and an indescribable other-worldy fragrance.
My Father, Jangu, cited me another fascinating real-life example to demonstrate the incalculabe, utterly stupendous power that vibrations weild. Soldiers, are always required to march in-step. However, during an all-crucial occassion, a troop is categorically commanded to march "out-of-step." Should a company of troops marching even-paced over a bridge, move in perfectly step, their combined vibrational-tramp "vibe-wave" would produce apendulum swaying of the bridge. Resulting, in shaking the structure to pieces. During the building of the Bridge on the River Kwai, this was a well-documented fact. The miracle-working Biblical story about The Walls of Jerico, also, succiently reveals the magical powers in 'subtler' vibrations.Ultimately, crumbling to ruble an impregnable towering wall. Gideon, who with abiding faith had prayed to God for guidance. With concentrated unflagging super-intensity, in unision Gideon's men blew upon the shrill piercing ram's-horns; day-upon-day the combined reverberation of drums and horns wrought a "pitch" so sharp; the culminating stroke being the penetrating cry from the men. Making the walls crumble into powdery rubble.
Thought, must radiate a highly-charged frequency pitch. So thought becomes a sacred-most Mantra. That inner fervour becomes your magical incantation, ringing as a sonic-boom in-tune to the music of the spheres. This energy's in-flow and out-flow through you perennial. An all-attracting re-echo inwardly-produced, outwadly-projecting re-echo ring.
Moving, silent as a sound-wave out from your heart, to settle, into hearts near-by and a-far. Nature reveals this power of vibrations, everywhere.
A bee-hummingbird, no larger than a bumble-bee produces a breath-taking 3000 wing-beats a minute. The "whirr-humm" gives 'hummers' their name. Flying-foxes, emit low-pitched frequency beats. Sonar-waves during their all-night, far-flung navigational flights. Whales, who plumb to staggering 900-metre depths pulse soprano-like squeaks, that travel as communication signals in the subterranean abyss. Elephants produce a sound, inaudible to us, which travels over a mile. We live in an endless sea of consciousness. A universal library. A hook-up that responds, directly, to your specific thought, only. Your thought when clear, produces its own ripple-efect. Like a stone tossed into a pool. The pitch, depth, resonance, and "charge" in your thought, determine the velocity with which it reverberate and rolls like thunder across our universe.
You, were born with such collosal powers. We may not yet, be fully aware of the formidable vibrations and powers that we already self-possess. Concentrate, fully assimilate and fully re-ingest this sentence. Put the artice aside for a moment. Gaze, inward. Gradually it will self-dawn upon you. You, will 'know' how you are precisely 'where' you are. The, fact that the underlying import of this message means a great deal to you, points, to this same all-compelling domain: "VIBRATIONS". You, have self-tuned-in and brought these thoughts within your reach in a similar, manner.
It is no different to standing before your clear looking-glass mirror. It, instantly and faithfully reflects whatever is placed before it. Life, reflects a replica reality of the key thoughts you thought, up-to-now.Know, that long before we arrive at a destination, your combined quantum vibrational-field has already travelled first-class-first. Long before you even left. The crucial life-awakening, unseen, vibratory fluid, like bone-marrow is generated in you. Your own consent to each thought is paramount. Only, you have the power to accept, harbour, or veto a thought.The "outer" action is a trigger activated much later. The "cause," or self-arising thought is the key area to remain ever-vigilant with. Zoom-in to, your dominant thoughts. With a watch-ful-ness no less than a sharp-sighted falcon.
Yes, many thoughts flow-in and out. I speak of those ones that you are prone to hold on to most. Those, you repeatedly call to mind. It is from these "seeds-beds" that your future experiences will continue to take shape, evolve and an grow.
Situations, no matter how intimidating are of little consequence.Your "reaction," or dynamic "response" to them matters, most.
As surely as the self-spreading, ever-evolving rain-tree in my garden grows; from where i transmit you this message, on the subtler breath of breeze...
Cyrus jehangir Sataravalla
Everything we perceive, or know is a direct result of how we access this field-of-vibrations. Should you desire, to be successful then stay close to success-minded people. If you intend to awaken the genius, inside you, keep in the vicinity with those in-tune with path-breaking ideas. Your field-of-awareness, constantly, makes you self-evolve and grow into a mirror-image of the company you keep. Thoughts, are visitors. Be-aware of your often-invited visitors. Call, only, ones that uplift. Those, that radiate untold delight, and an indescribable other-worldy fragrance.
My Father, Jangu, cited me another fascinating real-life example to demonstrate the incalculabe, utterly stupendous power that vibrations weild. Soldiers, are always required to march in-step. However, during an all-crucial occassion, a troop is categorically commanded to march "out-of-step." Should a company of troops marching even-paced over a bridge, move in perfectly step, their combined vibrational-tramp "vibe-wave" would produce apendulum swaying of the bridge. Resulting, in shaking the structure to pieces. During the building of the Bridge on the River Kwai, this was a well-documented fact. The miracle-working Biblical story about The Walls of Jerico, also, succiently reveals the magical powers in 'subtler' vibrations.Ultimately, crumbling to ruble an impregnable towering wall. Gideon, who with abiding faith had prayed to God for guidance. With concentrated unflagging super-intensity, in unision Gideon's men blew upon the shrill piercing ram's-horns; day-upon-day the combined reverberation of drums and horns wrought a "pitch" so sharp; the culminating stroke being the penetrating cry from the men. Making the walls crumble into powdery rubble.
Thought, must radiate a highly-charged frequency pitch. So thought becomes a sacred-most Mantra. That inner fervour becomes your magical incantation, ringing as a sonic-boom in-tune to the music of the spheres. This energy's in-flow and out-flow through you perennial. An all-attracting re-echo inwardly-produced, outwadly-projecting re-echo ring.
Moving, silent as a sound-wave out from your heart, to settle, into hearts near-by and a-far. Nature reveals this power of vibrations, everywhere.
A bee-hummingbird, no larger than a bumble-bee produces a breath-taking 3000 wing-beats a minute. The "whirr-humm" gives 'hummers' their name. Flying-foxes, emit low-pitched frequency beats. Sonar-waves during their all-night, far-flung navigational flights. Whales, who plumb to staggering 900-metre depths pulse soprano-like squeaks, that travel as communication signals in the subterranean abyss. Elephants produce a sound, inaudible to us, which travels over a mile. We live in an endless sea of consciousness. A universal library. A hook-up that responds, directly, to your specific thought, only. Your thought when clear, produces its own ripple-efect. Like a stone tossed into a pool. The pitch, depth, resonance, and "charge" in your thought, determine the velocity with which it reverberate and rolls like thunder across our universe.
You, were born with such collosal powers. We may not yet, be fully aware of the formidable vibrations and powers that we already self-possess. Concentrate, fully assimilate and fully re-ingest this sentence. Put the artice aside for a moment. Gaze, inward. Gradually it will self-dawn upon you. You, will 'know' how you are precisely 'where' you are. The, fact that the underlying import of this message means a great deal to you, points, to this same all-compelling domain: "VIBRATIONS". You, have self-tuned-in and brought these thoughts within your reach in a similar, manner.
It is no different to standing before your clear looking-glass mirror. It, instantly and faithfully reflects whatever is placed before it. Life, reflects a replica reality of the key thoughts you thought, up-to-now.Know, that long before we arrive at a destination, your combined quantum vibrational-field has already travelled first-class-first. Long before you even left. The crucial life-awakening, unseen, vibratory fluid, like bone-marrow is generated in you. Your own consent to each thought is paramount. Only, you have the power to accept, harbour, or veto a thought.The "outer" action is a trigger activated much later. The "cause," or self-arising thought is the key area to remain ever-vigilant with. Zoom-in to, your dominant thoughts. With a watch-ful-ness no less than a sharp-sighted falcon.
Yes, many thoughts flow-in and out. I speak of those ones that you are prone to hold on to most. Those, you repeatedly call to mind. It is from these "seeds-beds" that your future experiences will continue to take shape, evolve and an grow.
Situations, no matter how intimidating are of little consequence.Your "reaction," or dynamic "response" to them matters, most.
As surely as the self-spreading, ever-evolving rain-tree in my garden grows; from where i transmit you this message, on the subtler breath of breeze...
Cyrus jehangir Sataravalla
AUM SAINATH: ACCORD AT AN ORCHARD
In open spaces i did nothing, as it were, yet i found wondeful worlds swing open, inside. A spark was lit.One that lead me further and deeper into Nature-worship. As i communed with aleaf-tip, or listened-in to a bird sing a voice inside, re-affirmed" Cyrus, this is God.
This, is where to this moment i explore life-forms, with undiminished relish.Each, sojourn, through flower-fields, or pasture-glade brought something new. There were colours, textures and sequences that never came twice. Each became the first-time ever. This, child-like fascination i will always remember. The greater my travels, outwards, still deeper, i plumbed a parallel orchard inwards.
A strange, yet self-balancing accord.When 8-years-old, by dusk, i would head towards an other-worldly mango orchard in Mathura. There were other orchards, around. nevertheless, this one, held a special place in my heart. It had an inexplainable soul-ful-ness to it. A womb-like serenity pervades tgis orchard.'Suspension,' in a velvet limbo. Floating, in a universe so intense, it has a smell, colour and taste all its own. A secretive walk through a guava-grove, brings me, to this paradise. The trees were not tall. As marvellously, rounded.I walk waist-dep through ripening mustard. The pollen-rich flowers leave some yolk-yellow dust on my shirt. I select one tree.
The lush turquoise-green tinged mangoes dangle tantalizingly from some branches. The pervasive symphony of myriad mynas surrounds.For long i have loved, the heart-felt salutation that birds transmit as dusk descends. A sound, quite like no other. A melodious chirrup-chatter. I listen-in, rapt, as the birds commune.There is no formal prayer-book. Or, prayer-rug. Yet, all around deep-felt all-encompassing, prayer-notes. A million notes inter-mingle. Each, self-sutures into 'one' pervasive chord-strum. Innumerable song-birds must be half-hidden, within the enchanted orchard. The cherubic notes are woven-in to a sublime at-one-ness. I sense it a sacred confluence.
A re-merging of the many life-forms, around.Suddenly, from dep within those dark trees, sound-waves resonate. A soundless-sound. The grove is chanting the seed-syllable, AUM.Each, note embraces and twines around the other. They merge to settle as a single-sounding chime. One, that defies conscious discription. The supre-energy at this orchard is one i will never forget. Then before one can even know it, an unspeakable hush alights, silent, as a butterfly upon a flower. The orchard becomes, still. A force MORE alive i have seldom known. A single ;eaf-blade flutters to bring with it the scent of far-away fields.Reminding me of my own life-breath. Rejuvination, i witness unimpeded.
A deep accord bonds, mates me to the trees. Im able to sense the rise and fall of free-flowing sap in the tree-trunks.This is the only meditation that i have come to know.Throughout my school-days, during class, this orchard danced in my mind.During the ordeal of formal class i could intuit the sweet-breath of the ever-beckoning orchard. Salt-and-chilly neatly folded in my pocket. In advance. Night, suited me best. By day the orchard was well-guarded as Fort Knox. So, it seemed to me then. As i look back it was not so much to eat the mangoes, as to sense the magic that vibrated around that grove. One from asecret Never-Never land.As i lift the turquoise finely-meshed netting and enter a universe that i love.
The night pulsed its mystery. Everything shone with the bright luminous blue, of moon-light. It was as if there was fresh blue-paint on the tree-tops.In this blue-tinged landscape my soul wanders, as from another earth. And everything, seems, to fall in place. It is almost what you expected from the very beginning....
The taut darkening leaves, sough. With one eye on the farmer cob-thatched hut, i select the best mango. Under the immensity of a star-pricked sky the thrill of each bite to-die-for...THAT mango-taste re-returns with added intensity. Remains. Just as it was way back, then... A part of the orchard alive, in me. A part of me surely, hovers, there...
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
This, is where to this moment i explore life-forms, with undiminished relish.Each, sojourn, through flower-fields, or pasture-glade brought something new. There were colours, textures and sequences that never came twice. Each became the first-time ever. This, child-like fascination i will always remember. The greater my travels, outwards, still deeper, i plumbed a parallel orchard inwards.
A strange, yet self-balancing accord.When 8-years-old, by dusk, i would head towards an other-worldly mango orchard in Mathura. There were other orchards, around. nevertheless, this one, held a special place in my heart. It had an inexplainable soul-ful-ness to it. A womb-like serenity pervades tgis orchard.'Suspension,' in a velvet limbo. Floating, in a universe so intense, it has a smell, colour and taste all its own. A secretive walk through a guava-grove, brings me, to this paradise. The trees were not tall. As marvellously, rounded.I walk waist-dep through ripening mustard. The pollen-rich flowers leave some yolk-yellow dust on my shirt. I select one tree.
The lush turquoise-green tinged mangoes dangle tantalizingly from some branches. The pervasive symphony of myriad mynas surrounds.For long i have loved, the heart-felt salutation that birds transmit as dusk descends. A sound, quite like no other. A melodious chirrup-chatter. I listen-in, rapt, as the birds commune.There is no formal prayer-book. Or, prayer-rug. Yet, all around deep-felt all-encompassing, prayer-notes. A million notes inter-mingle. Each, self-sutures into 'one' pervasive chord-strum. Innumerable song-birds must be half-hidden, within the enchanted orchard. The cherubic notes are woven-in to a sublime at-one-ness. I sense it a sacred confluence.
A re-merging of the many life-forms, around.Suddenly, from dep within those dark trees, sound-waves resonate. A soundless-sound. The grove is chanting the seed-syllable, AUM.Each, note embraces and twines around the other. They merge to settle as a single-sounding chime. One, that defies conscious discription. The supre-energy at this orchard is one i will never forget. Then before one can even know it, an unspeakable hush alights, silent, as a butterfly upon a flower. The orchard becomes, still. A force MORE alive i have seldom known. A single ;eaf-blade flutters to bring with it the scent of far-away fields.Reminding me of my own life-breath. Rejuvination, i witness unimpeded.
A deep accord bonds, mates me to the trees. Im able to sense the rise and fall of free-flowing sap in the tree-trunks.This is the only meditation that i have come to know.Throughout my school-days, during class, this orchard danced in my mind.During the ordeal of formal class i could intuit the sweet-breath of the ever-beckoning orchard. Salt-and-chilly neatly folded in my pocket. In advance. Night, suited me best. By day the orchard was well-guarded as Fort Knox. So, it seemed to me then. As i look back it was not so much to eat the mangoes, as to sense the magic that vibrated around that grove. One from asecret Never-Never land.As i lift the turquoise finely-meshed netting and enter a universe that i love.
The night pulsed its mystery. Everything shone with the bright luminous blue, of moon-light. It was as if there was fresh blue-paint on the tree-tops.In this blue-tinged landscape my soul wanders, as from another earth. And everything, seems, to fall in place. It is almost what you expected from the very beginning....
The taut darkening leaves, sough. With one eye on the farmer cob-thatched hut, i select the best mango. Under the immensity of a star-pricked sky the thrill of each bite to-die-for...THAT mango-taste re-returns with added intensity. Remains. Just as it was way back, then... A part of the orchard alive, in me. A part of me surely, hovers, there...
Cyrus Jehangir Sataravalla
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