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In the journey of life as we grow in consciousness, we start to become aware of a certain truth that dawns on us as gently and as lovingly as the first rays of the rising Sun – that we are all ‘One Life’, deeply connected to each other in mystic and mysterious ways.
TOne of the platforms through which this unique concept of education was disseminated was through the ancient Indian Gurukul tradition. The term Gurukul comes from Guru, meaning teacher and kul, meaning extended family or home.
“It’s lonely at the top,” said a school-friend in jest on the eve of a school election for which I was nominated. And although I do not know to whom this tidbit of wisdom is attributed, I have often contemplated the truth behind these words.
In aspiring for the post or role of a leader, some may seek the prestige and authority which follow. The main work therefore seems to be, to make a favorable impression on those that are considering their candidature. Since there are probably others vying for the same position, a competition ensues, a race in which each one needs to outshine the other.
The following piece is my humble investigation into my fear of death; the fear of my own (impending) death and also the fear of the eventual death of a loved one. This journey began 8 years ago with my mother’s sudden death. It has been insightful that while processing my grief some years down the line, a psychotherapist helped me conclude, that the trauma resulting from a loved one’s death, can actually embed itself in hypochondriac behaviour.
The word ‘Permaculture’ was coined by Bill Mollison and David Holmgren in the 1970s to refer to the “consciously designed landscapes which mimic the patterns and relationships in nature, while yielding an abundance of food, fibre and energy for provision of local needs” [1]. What began as an ecological movement towards ‘Permanent Agriculture’, over time, evolved into something far more holistic and all encompassing; a set of principles and values of what it means to be conscious, contributing human beings and reviving a way of living that aims to develop interdependence and personal responsibility in every sphere of life.
Mumbai has been my home for the past 45 years and this article is about my experience of the city which has shaped me and made me into much of what I am today. I received my shiksha – educational qualifications here; it is my karma bhumi – where I first started earning my living and it is here that I embarked on the journey of my spiritual development.
In the wee hours of the morning, Emperor Akbar awoke to the sweet melodious singing of Haridas, guru of the celebrated singer of his court, Tansen. Haridas had been singing a dawn raga. Overwhelmed, Akbar inquired why Tansen was not able to sing like his guru Haridas. Tansen replied that there was one big difference between him and his teacher; while he sang for his lord Akbar, The Great, Haridas sang for the Lord of the universe – God.
What is the meaning of spiritual exercises? The term probably originates in the exercitia spiritualia of St Ignatius of Loyola, founder of the Jesuit religious order in the 16th Century. But Ignatius himself developed these exercises on the basis of early Christian philosophy, which in turn derived from the exercises already existing in the philosophical schools of antiquity, where they were referred to under the general term askesis, from which we have the word “asceticism”.
Those who love baking know the joy of seeing coarse ingredients come together to give birth to a cake. I am a baker by profession and absolutely love baking. Every time I put a tray of cupcakes to bake, I find myself staring into the oven to catch a glimpse of their gradual metamorphosis. I love to see them rise and wait to be the first one to catch their delicious fragrance. I am a hopeless addict; often baking cakes, brownies, and cookies, even when I don’t have orders to dispatch. The simple pleasure of sitting at a table, enjoying cake and coffee, to talk to a friend about how the day was, evokes within me the joy of having spread some love in my own small way.
It is impossible to touch on certain mythical stories without touching the deepest strings of our souls.
The theogonic myths contain universal elements of the journey of the soul. They warn us about the dangers of this journey: about what enslaves the soul, takes it captive—all our vices, fears and weaknesses. They also tell us what elevates the soul and leads to its liberation—all our virtues. The myths contain the generous gifts that the gods offer us. All we have to do is learn to find them, recognize them and use them in our lives.
Alchemy seems to be an almost universal science. Not only do we find it in Medieval Europe, but also in China and India, amongst other places. This is perhaps because it is not just a primitive forerunner of modern chemistry, but a sacred science in its own right, which was studied wherever esoteric knowledge has appeared.
In the developed world, the standards of literacy, numeracy, general knowledge and behaviour are falling. Millions of young people have also become disaffected from school and, despite the fact that previous generations have fought hard to make what was once a privilege of the rich accessible to all, do not see much point in formal education. In the U.K. for example, the figures of truanting have been going up for years and the problem has become so bad that the government is paying the most disaffected students in order to keep them in school and away from the streets.
When I left home for college, there was a certain clarity with which I had my life planned out — my career, lifestyle, personal ambitions.
But by the time I graduated, I had far more questions than I had answers. Prompted by an insistent inner voice, I couldn’t help but wonder — is this really what life is all about? I started to question what I truly valued, what success meant to me, and how I could live a more meaningful life.
It was then that I chanced upon a flyer of a school of practical philosophy called New Acropolis.
When architects design a building in our times, they share the plan of a proposed building and get the client to approve its design, based on which the building is then taken up for construction. But how do you design a building when your client is divine, or in the invisible?
“Who are you?” – This is a question I usually ask in one of my classes. Asking the same question ten times in a row, I nudge the participants gently to the realization that we all have more than one identity. Some people tend to identify at first with their name, nationality, gender, profession; others define themselves through their relationships (I am a mother, a friend) and some think of themselves first and foremost as human beings, a ‘soul’, a ‘force of energy’ or as seekers of wisdom. This exercise also makes us aware that beyond our multiple identities there is a mysterious ‘inner core’ or ‘essence’ that defies definition but shines through all our different identities. We are always ourselves, whether this be at work, with our family or on our own. In each environment we express different aspects of ourselves, but deep down we are still the same mysterious ‘centre of awareness’. In short, we are both one and many.