From our friend Mira Prabhu who generously offers her wisdom insights from the holy mountain of Arunachala.
The world into which I was thrust made absolutely no sense to me. I was solemnly informed that there was a God who had created the world, but, even as a child, I considered this arrant nonsense. God, I was further told, was pure Love, which made me even more dubious about the authenticity of this wisdom. If God was pure love, I wondered, how in sweet hell could he have created a world so full of ignorance, misery, hatred and suffering?Did it give him perverse pleasure to watch babies starving, men being blown to bits in senseless wars, innocent brides burned to death for lack of a larger dowry, monstrous inequities in wealth, and a myriad other forms of implausible wickedness?
Soon I discovered that pleasure could be derived from this same world simply by indulging one’s senses and using one’s talents to become rich and famous. Yes…
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Losing a loved one is a natural cause of grief for us.
We have to eventually reconcile with the fact of death of those we loved, and cherish the joy that arises in the heart when we think of them.
Sri Ramana reminds us, “True love is shown by the certainty that the object of love is in the Self and that it can never become non-existent.”
Sages teach us that the death of the body is inevitable. We are not the body but the Spirit. That is the message of Bhagavad-Gita as well.
Heart Talk is best.
Somerset Maugham, a well-known English author, was on a visit to Sri Bhagavan Ramana Maharshi.
He also went to see Maj. Chadwick in his room and there he suddenly became unconscious.
Maj. Chadwick requested Sri Bhagavan to see him.
Sri Bhagavan went into the room, took a seat and gazed on Mr. Maugham.
Mr. Maugham regained his senses and saluted Sri Bhagavan.
They remained silent and sat facing each other for nearly an hour.
Mr Maugham attempted to ask questions of Sri Bhagavan but did not (or could not) speak.
Maj.Chadwick encouraged him to ask.
Sri Bhagavan said, “All finished. Heart-talk is all talk. All talk must end in silence only.”
They smiled and Sri Bhagavan left the room.
(From Talk 550 in “Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi).
Yogini Shammi gives her insights into managing chronic back pain through yoga.
Chronic Low back pain (CLBP) is perhaps one of the leading causes of visiting a physician today. From school going kids, to a middle aged professional, to a senior citizen, all have fallen victim to this condition. Revisiting my childhood, I can hardly recollect any such complaints from anyone at home in my own big joint family or from the neighbours.
This definitely calls for the question – What has happened in the last few decades that has changed the equation of the society in this way?
Increased Comfort = Increased STRESS = Decreased Wellness
Human brain has been able to reach the pinnacle of technology, to the extent, that the whole life can be comfortably spent by ‘just a press of a button’. This automatically applies that the movements in our day–to–day life too have reduced to just ‘a press of a
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Mira Prabhu on Suicide
A friend who once worked as a psychiatrist in a posh town in California once said to me that he saw the act of suicide as a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Ironically, his own crazily hedonistic lifestyle militated against his innate wisdom and he himself later tried to commit suicide. But I never forgot his words, especially since I lost a few friends in this manner; every single time I heard someone had offed themselves the shock was great. The worst news was the suicide of a lovely woman I knew in New York. One fine day in fall, she had gone home and shot herself with a gun she had just bought, and that too before her beloved cat. Since she lived alone on the top floor of a condo, her body was not found for several days, and that poor cat had to be a witness…
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From Mira Prabhu, the insightful mystic writer now residing at Arunachala in South India.
Before I moved into my own home here in Tiru, I had four landlords over a space of three years, each of whom was nightmarish in their own unique way. One was so slippery that he would assure me he would be over in ten minutes to fix a tap or whatever, but would simply never show. But when it came to collecting his rent, or to complain to me ad nauseam about the “foreigners” here (whom he had a strangely schizophrenic relationship with—on the surface, obsequious and smarmy, because he wanted them to rent his properties, behind their backs, virulently critical and mean), he was, ha ha ha, amazingly prompt.
Once I moved into my home, I realized that, although hopefully I had left all slimy landlords behind, another major mundane problem had raised its pointy little head: which is that workmen would assure me they would be over…
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