Archive for August, 2022


Kudos to the blogs/bloggers who patiently post philosophical /healing gems Every single day , inspiring us lesser mortals 👏🙏

When I sit on my cliff-edge with untimed 
patience, letting the beauty and serenity of my surroundings seep into my being, I begin to feel that I, 
too, have become a part of the quiet landscape. I am absorbing into my nature the stillness of Himalaya. I squat on the ground rooted like the 
Deodar tree before me.


We humans have become so self-important and 
so self-conceited in our own eyes that it does not 
occur to us that the Great Mother who bears us so 
patiently , feeds us with such 
abundant variety of foodstuffs, and takes us back 
again when we are sufficiently tired, has a purpose of 
her own which she wishes to achieve in us if we will 
but let her. We have set up our schemes and projects, we have decided what we want to get from life, and we are thinking, striving, struggling and even 
agonizing in our efforts to obtain the satisfaction of 
our desires. If, however, we devoted a quarter of our time to ceasing from self-efforts and quietly 
letting Nature’s mind permeate our own, we might 
make a wise revision of the catalogue of things wanted, yet at the same time secure Nature’s co-operation in obtaining them. 
The world is but an enlarged hotel, where we are 
lodged and fed by Mother Nature, pay our bill and 
then pass on.

To co-operate with Nature 
is to give up carrying the burden of life 
and to let her carry it for us ; everything becomes 
easy, even miraculous. 
I have seen these truths before, but now, in my 
mountain sanctuary and in closer tie with the Mother, 
I see them with startling clarity. 
A poet has said that Nature is the garment of 
God. Yes, but to me Nature is indistinguishable from 
God.
If God is the Grand Architect, then Nature is the Master Builder of this universe, in the Freemasonic 
system of our world. 
My Master explains the futility of separative 
self-effort by an effective simile. He asks, ” What 
would you think of a man who entered the compartment of a railway carriage whilst carrying a trunk on 
his head, and who then sat, down on his seat but 
refused to put the trunk down on the floor ? Yet people refuse to surrender the burdens of their existence to God, insisting on carrying them themselves 
under the delusion that no one else can carry them, 
just as the man in the train was under the delusion 
that it was not the train but himself who carried the 
trunk. So, too, God who supports this earth supports us and our burdens and carries all along with 
Him.” 

High up on a snow-surrounded natural throne, Shiva, the god who took the 
body of a Yogi, is still believed to be lost in one 
eternal aeon-old meditation. In the little tree￾shadowed valley of Agastyamuni, the great Seer 
named Agastya had practised his Yoga in ancient 
times. The sacred river Bhagirathi which flows across 
this kingdom is mentioned in the holy books, the 
Puranas, for it is really the chief feeder of the Ganges. 
Its name is associated with that of King Bhagirath, a 
royal Saint. The temple of Badri Narayan in a glacier valley is sacred even to the Buddhists, no less than 
the Hindus,The place suggests cloistral peace. If serenity can be
attained anywhere on earth, this is indeed one region
among the few. This unspoilt border State, where the
ancient Hindu gods have walked, seems quite apart
from the rest of India.Most spiritual of all
trees, legend makes the deodar the favourite of the
gods.

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( Brunton and his Guru (Shri Ramana Maharshi ) may have been the inspiration for the characters in Maugham’s work of fiction )

The Hindus, like
the Tibetans, firmly believe that the Himalayas are
the secret abodes of the gods, as well as of those
spiritual supermen whom they call the Rishees, who
to-day are supposed to dwell there in invisible etheric
bodies. Yes, one of them has brought me here .

It may even be that this unimaginably beautiful and
secluded spot is his very dwelling place. Enchantment
creeps upon me.
It is a fact that the broad mountains of this kingdom of Tehri are holy precincts. The Hindus believe
that these Himalayan shrines, set in the colossus among
mountain ranges, are even more sacrosanct than their
holy cities of Benares, Puri and Nasik. Twice
a day, at the favoured times of dawn and dusk, I shall
climb its steep face with the aid of the stick, and then
settle down to learn how a man might arrive at the
art of being still and, perchance, even ultimately know
God.

The best way to spread the
spirit of benevolence is to begin with myself. Let me,
then, compose my thoughts and silently repeat the
Buddhist formula for world well-being, whose spirit if
not whose words is :
“To the four quarters of the world, I send compassion. To the north, south, east and west, above
and below, I send compassion. To all living creatures
upon the earth, I send compassion.”

The brain is like a wheel which endlessly revolves,
picking up fresh thoughts with every revolution. Now
I watch the wheel slow down. The more I hold to
my resolve to press attention deeply inwards towards
a central point, the more my thoughts diminish in .
We are talking of the difficulty which beginners experience when attempting to learn how to concentrate
the mind. The adept remarks :
” If we assume that the average number of
thoughts which pass through a man’s brain during a
given period is one hundred, and if he succeeds in
reducing it by constant practice in regulation to eighty,
then we may say that he has gained the power of
concentration of mind to the extent of twenty per cent.
Therefore the most direct way to obtain such concentrative power is to practise the lessening of the number
of one’s thoughts.”
And with the slower working of my brain, yet
with all attention not a whit less alert, I begin to feel
a profounder peace enveloping me. The prolonged
concentration of thought has ultimately induced a
finer state to arise inside. How sorry I feel for the
city dwellers who are subject to turmoil without end I
Why should they make the intellect supreme ? Yet
their way of escape cannot inwardly be different from
mine. Minds, exasperated by the inevitable frictions
and disappointments of daily life, may find in the respite gained by mental quiet a soothing and healing serenity that will anoint their wounded nerves with
balm.
The intellect is but an instrument and not the
essential being of man. It is not self-sustained. It
is an automatic and routine faculty. Modern man
represents the triumph of mechanistic intellect over
mere instinct, just as future man will represent the
triumph of divine intuition over mere intellect.

The comparative stillness which surrounds me now
may not be, nay is not, the utter stillness which I long
to attain, for not a few slow-walking thoughts contrive
to meander around inside the emptied halls of my
brain. To be really still is to be centred. Nevertheless,
I shall be contented with it to-day and not attempt to
cross the mystic frontier.


The young cultured Hindu
who dresses like the moderns but thinks like the
ancients is fast disappearing.

Why should I waste my
time, with millions, in railing and ranting against the
defects of established society ? Rather should I do
a little constructive work. We shall have a pacified world when we
have pacified hearts-not before. The ancient Sages
who gave this simple formula are nowa-days denounced as impractical idealists. But if the
final test of a policy is its results in material affairs,
we must confess tohat this peaceless world has not
improved on them. The spiritual emptiness of our
epoch and the poverty of our inner resources express
themselves clearly ellough in the chaos, the distress
we see everywhere around us, and the dolorous servitude which we give to unworthy ideals and unworthy
men.
The world’s development of egotism and intellect
has given it a fictitious sense of practical wisdom.