He kept looking towards the sky while floating in the water kept for cows. Big round button yellow eyes like ever watching you do the doing. His death seemed such that at one time I felt he chose it. But would a predator or anyone can choose his own death? May be. But When Maharaj arrived, he first closed his eyes. May be he needed someone to close his eyes before it could be plucked out. May be he earned this burial. To only put a stop to this cycle. May his body rests and the spirit awakens. Aum Shanti
We all say that to ourselves. The question is: when do you say it? Do you say it when you are being rejected, failing, stuck, panicked, overwhelmed or alone? Or do you say it when you’re engaged, winning, changing things and are in the groove? Because the more you rehearse this feeling; this saying, the more it’s going to happen. We get what we expect. And we expect what we get. The easiest way to change this cycle is to alter the scale we play in. If you keep failing at the big stuff, it’s worth honing the habit of succeeding at the small stuff first. And if you’re finding yourself in a rut, a cycle of failure, walk away from that series of projects and find a new field to plant your seeds in.
There is magic here. And no other word can come close to expressing the invisible, that India carries. The final push to the food. The hungry mother slept on my knees. I looked for water but left only the yellow fruit. The cold moving empty train. The quaint noise. Her warmth, laughter. Still innocence. Giving is receiving. Mother Ganga.
Sometimes from somewhere a may be comes. Now may be is hope. It is told to you if you can run till a point you might catch what you are seeking. The time is limited. You have no idea of the way. Your resolve at first will be far from achieving it. But in the now you start running. But you realize that light has started getting darker. The steps are uneven. Some slopes. Some roses with thorns of autumn. Some puzzles to make the way interesting. If you then just gain that rhythm of not merely running but enjoying the performance of just being. Using body and mind just as a tool. That when you will even reach. There will be no one to clap. But the rewards are going to be so multiple from all the oxytocin that you created with your thoughts, with your lungs. That whole space will start treating you as you are his own. Quietly.
Taking half rest while on a small walk on the Ross Island in the Andmans.