Mira Prabhu's Blog, page 12
November 15, 2017
New Book: Ramana’s “Forty Verses on Reality” with comments
An incredible gift to the sincere seeker of permanent freedom from suffering….
Living in the Embrace of Arunachala
Ramana Maharshi details his entire teaching in his Forty Verses on Reality. The best way to read this book is by deeply meditating on each verse. Comments and Practice notes are added to each verse, to help the reader to understand just what is meant, and to assist the meditation and Self-inquiry needed to folly know what Ramana Maharshi was teaching.
Click this link to download: 40 Verses or Reality with comments
November 11, 2017
“…A story is how we construct our experiences…” Doris Lessing QUOTES FOR WRITERS (and people who like quotes)
“…that is the template of our stories – a beginning, middle, and end.” Yes!!!
Humanity’s legacy of stories and storytelling is the most precious we have. All wisdom is in our stories and songs. A story is how we construct our experiences. At the very simplest, it can be: ‘He/she was born, lived, died.’ Probably that is the template of our stories – a beginning, middle, and end.Doris Lessing.
Secret of Happiness
Be the light. That light will illumine your path and that of others and will be the best help you can give. Thanks for this, Harsh!
What is the secret of happiness?
Don’t bother anyone.
Don’t be bothered by anyone.
That is the path of joy and freedom.
Help those who come your way. Help where needed.
But don’t bother anyone. Don’t impose yourself and your views on others.
Stay with people and be part of the community devoted to universal love and peace.
Stay away from those who like to argue. Let them find their way.
Sri Ramana used to say that the best help we can give others is to transform ourself.
Be a person of peace and compassion, and this will reflect in your actions.
Be the light. That light will illumine your path and that of others and will be the best help you can give.
Quietly shine in your own pure nature of peace and radiance.
You will have done all you can.
November 10, 2017
Free style interpretation of Ashthavakra Gita verses 3.9 to 3.14
“Freedom from duality comes from Self-Knowledge
and reveals the joy that takes one beyond all sorrows.” Read on and thanks for sharing this, Harsh!
Whether honored or tormented, in laughter or tears
the wise man, who is aware of his Self-Nature
does not see the body and mind as his own
and releases them to their natural ways.
Freedom from duality comes from Self-Knowledge
and reveals the joy that takes one beyond all sorrows.
________________________________
Here are the original verses from the Asthavakra Gita 3.9-3.14
Whether feted or tormented, the wise man is always aware of his supreme self-nature and is neither pleased nor disappointed. 3.9
The great-souled person sees even his own body in action as if it were someone else’s, so how should he be disturbed by praise or blame? 3.10
Seeing this world as pure illusion, and devoid of any interest in it, how should the strong-minded person feel fear, even at the approach of death? 3.11
Who can be compared to the great-souled person whose mind is free from desire…
View original post 69 more words
November 9, 2017
EVERYONE HAS A HIGHER POWER
[image error]Manhattan broke down my identity; in south India I was more or less confident that I could accomplish anything I set my mind on. I was popular, well-known in certain circles, and could have launched myself into a lucrative creative career had I wished to. Instead I suffered a deep dread of never leaving home and so I finagled my exit to a foreign country that I admired for many reasons. Yes, I loathed the deep-rooted misogyny, caste and class system I was surrounded by and longed for the freedom I hoped to find in America. But I was unprepared for the shocks to my system in the land of the brave and the free. Indeed, nothing was as I had expected it to be and I had to literally reinvent myself, alone, since my husband and in-laws were no help, and instead actively wanted to shove me into a box, lock me up, and throw away the key. You see, they had not expected an Indian woman to be feisty, independent and outspoken about her rights, and so they lashed out in me in a variety of inventive ways until I was deeply miserable despite abundant material comforts. My husband had promised that I could study creative writing and film at NYU, but now he ruthlessly nixed that idea and I found myself temping on Wall Street and in posh law firms, making a lot of money but still a prisoner of my new family and my husband in particular, who insisted on controlling our finances as well as the trajectory of our lives.
One evening after work at a law firm on 5th Ave (close to Trump Tower, incidentally!), I was walking cross-town back to my apartment when it began to drizzle. I stopped for shelter close to Saks Fifth Avenue and saw an old woman, probably Polish, sitting on the ledge outside a display of expensive furs. Rain was falling on her tired seamed face and rivulets of grime ran down her cheeks. Beside her stood a shopping cart piled with all her earthly possessions. The expression on her face gripped me like a murderer’s hand to my throat—it was so sad and helpless that I began to cry. I stood watching her from a distance, she was unaware of me, and my mind restlessly sought out ways I could help her. I could give her ten dollars and flee, or I could invite her home for a bath and a meal before sending her out on to the streets again. But I knew the latter option would not work—my husband would throw a fit and perhaps the doorman would not even let her into our building.
[image error]I walked home sadly in the rain and immediately called a wise friend. Sobbing, I told her how I was feeling—that poverty in India was so endemic that it did not strike one so brutally, but to see this poor old woman sitting before a showcase of luxury furs that must have each cost thousands of dollars was obscene in this rich country. How could such a thing happen in America, I cried?
She was quiet for a while, and then she said, okay, now listen to me carefully—you are a student of eastern philosophy and know that what we see is not reality, just the relative aspect of it. That woman has karmic lessons to learn and so have we all—which is why we all play different roles. Who’s to say the fat cat billionaire in his penthouse romancing a supermodel right now has a better shot at eventual happiness than this homeless woman? Suffering is breaking down her ego, but he is only building up a façade that will dissolve the instant he dies. The truth is, sweetheart, every one of us has a higher power, and you are not that woman’s higher power. Love her as much as you can, pray for her wellbeing, but stay centered. Remember too that if you achieve the goal of moksha or liberation that you are seeking, despite all your ups and downs, the time will come when you will be a great light in the cosmos and millions will be helped. Think Buddha.
[image error]That conversation has stayed with me; when now I am moved by the suffering of humans and animals I see all around me, I remind myself that there is a deeper story embedded in the situation that my mortal human eyes cannot see. Still I do whatever I can to ameliorate suffering, but I keep my focus on my inner practice of turning into light. Yes, everyone has a higher power and I am not it.
Greetings from Arunachala, Shiva in the form of a hill of fire and light, who vows to destroy all the blinders from our human eyes so we can merge into our true nature, which is no less than pure existence, awareness and bliss!
NEW!!! My latest book – COPPER MOON OVER PATALIPUTRA – just went live on Jun 30th. Read all about it and on how to get your own copy here.
If you’ve enjoyed reading my posts, please also check out my BOOKS and LINKS.
Follow Blog via Email
Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
Click the buttons below to SHARE if you liked this post.
Note: The REBLOG option is available only when viewing the post in full. Click on the post-title above if don’t see the REBLOG button below.
November 4, 2017
“Why do men feel threatened by women?” asked Margaret Atwood QUOTES FOR WRITERS and everyone
Ah ha, big question that I have grappled with for years….thanks, Bridget Whelan.
Given the events over the last few weeks , I thought it would be a good idea to post the words of Margret Atwood:Why do men feel threatened by women?” I asked a male friend of mine. So this male friend of mine, who does by the way exist, conveniently entered into the following dialogue.
“I mean,” I said, “men are bigger, most of the time, they can run faster, strangle better, and they have on the average a lot more money and power.”
“They’re afraid women will laugh at them,” he said. “Undercut their world view.”
Then I asked some women students in a quickie poetry seminar I was giving, “Why do women feel threatened by men?”
“They’re afraid of being killed,” they said.
She’s nailed it, right?
•Atwood, Margaret, Writing the Male Character (1982) (reprinted in Second Words: Selected Critical Prose from a Hagey Lecture on February…
View original post 7 more words
Negative Self-Judgment – Guest post by, Tina Frisco… | Chris The Story Reading Ape’s Blog
Perhaps the biggest hurdle for those who want to walk the inner path is negative self-judgment – why? Because it is a lie – Eastern sages inform us that our true nature is perfect immortal bliss. Read on…thank you, Tina Frisco!
Christopher Graham, The Story Reading Ape, is a generous soul who regularly hosts other bloggers. If you’re not familiar with our big-hearted Ape, treat yourself to a plethora of terrific posts by visiting his superb BLOG. I want to thank Chris for his generosity and for featuring my post, which I’d like to share with you now
*************
Image courtesy of Ningren
The people we tend to be hardest on are ourselves. Some folks are an exception to this, but it seems to be true for most of us.
While I was in Pennsylvania helping care for my mother, I fell into judging myself… harshly… a lot.
I should be doing more. I should move back to Pennsylvania in order to help my sisters meet my mother’s needs. I should not feel guilty that my nephew gave up his bed for me and is sleeping on the…
View original post 434 more words
November 2, 2017
CHEAP THRILLS
[image error]Growing up in south India at a time when the West was not as accessible as it is to Indians today, my first glimmerings of the wild life I (delusionally) believed all Americans and Europeans led was via the thrillers of writers like James Hadley Chase. Yes, I read Agatha Christie too, and more sedate authors, but it was the paperback thrillers I found most addictive, for they spoke of hippies and drugs and scarlet women pouting at bad guys and getting murdered—and of course there was always the unwary bystander or canny detective who got dragged willy-nilly into the spicy stew.
Oh, how exciting it was to get one of those books in my greedy hands and to devour it at a single stretch! There were times I’d read a book a day, and since it wasn’t easy to find this kind of material lying around then, I’d woo anyone who had a home library and was willing to share his/her hoard with me.
It was my brother-in-law, an academic and professor, who dourly pointed out to me the effects that reading what he called ‘trash’ would have on my impressionable mind. It’s a hard addiction to break, he warned, and when you need to digest serious stuff, you won’t be able to. I dismissed his warnings since I was doing very well in academics myself, and believed, with all the raw arrogance of youth, that I knew better than preachy fuddy-duddies how to separate study from fun.
[image error]Years later, life got really hard for me and I was forced deeper into the study of Easternphilosophy—and so my tastes naturally changed. Looking back on all those thrillers I’d devoured, in retrospect I found the experience to be similar to tossing down three cocktails in quick succession—great during the high, but inevitably, for me at least, followed by a dreary emptiness. So I began to devour spiritual books instead, anything I could lay my hands on, and living in Manhattan, with access to the great New York Public Library and a plethora of funky bookstores, I was in book heaven. Ah, I used to think smugly, I could easily live alone on a deserted tropical island—just so long as some benevolent soul regularly ships me cartons of good books.
Today I work hard at my spiritual novels and absolutely love the process, right from the time an idea pops into my head to the endless plotting, weaving and reweaving that can take decades—yes, my first novel, Whip of the Wild God: A Novel of Tantra in Ancient India, took me twenty years to complete. Of course I was travelling all over the globe at the time, and this book went through seven major revisions—mainly because the philosophy embedded into it kept changing as my own path led me back to Advaita, the ancient teaching on Oneness.
But even today, in between enjoying novels that have won awards and critical attention, I will still dive into bed with a thriller and relive those early days when a fast-paced and wicked tale made me forget the mundane world as it sucked me into the vortex of a simmering saga.
[image error]Perhaps it is my addiction to thrillers combined with my passion for eastern philosophy (bizarre combo, right?) that led me to write Krishna’s Counsel, the second novel in my Moksha Trilogy (moksha = freedom/liberation from suffering). The title is inspired by that powerful scene in the Bhagavad Gita that played itself out on the ancient battlefield of the Kurukshetra in ancient India, when Lord Krishna convinces Prince Arjuna to fight his enemies for the good of our suffering planet, and no matter the consequences.
Krishna’s Counsel climaxes in a ghastly crime and its protagonist Pia, a hyper-empath who openly acknowledges her cowardly streak, is forced to metamorphose into a spiritual warrior in order to fight the good fight. I trace my own obsession with the archetypal battle between good and evil (both inner and outer) to my innate nature sparked by the effect of those thrillers on my juvenile mind; as I plan to inform my brother-in-law some fine day, good can emerge even from a bad habit.
Greetings from Arunachala, Shiva in the form of a hill of fire and light, who vows to destroy all our darkness so that we can know ourselves as the immortal and blissful Self!
NEW!!! My latest book – COPPER MOON OVER PATALIPUTRA – just went live on Jun 30th. Read all about it and on how to get your own copy here.
If you’ve enjoyed reading my posts, please also check out my BOOKS and LINKS.
Follow Blog via Email
Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
Click the buttons below to SHARE if you liked this post.
Note: The REBLOG option is available only when viewing the post in full. Click on the post-title above if don’t see the REBLOG button below.
October 28, 2017
Once you read a book you care about…QUOTES FOR WRITERS (and readers)
I write Spiritual Fiction which clearly does not appeal to the mainstream, for quite often I get messages from those who read my Moksha Trilogy (3 books on enlightenment) that say they loved the read and are re-reading them because they are loaded with spiritual gems. And how happy that makes me! Genuine words of appreciation even from a few are worth more to me that the millions of dollars some mainstream writers earn. Honestly.
Once you have read a book you care about, some part of it is always with you.Louis L’Amour
What books are always with you? The first book that came into my head was Little Women, read at age 9.
October 26, 2017
MOUNTAIN GODDESS
[image error]When I first landed in Dharamsala in the foothills of the Himalayas, straight from the frenetic city of Manhattan, I was lost and bewildered by a strange new world. Soon I found my way to the Tibetan Library, where every morning a beautiful old Geshe, aided by an English female translator, patiently taught us the ancient scriptures. I was sitting outside the small cafeteria when I saw a woman I liked on sight, nonchalantly rolling a cigarette. I asked her to roll me one, whereupon she handed me the fixings and retorted sarkily that if I wanted one, I’d have to roll it myself. Oh, I thought, amused, liking her even more, for she reminded me of folks in Manhattan who are also uncomfortably direct but also possess shining hearts of gold if you stick around long enough to get past the prickly surface.
We became friends, and I discovered she lived right above my beautiful apartment with the huge glass windows, through which I could gaze at the splendor of the snow-clad Himalayas. As a seasoned practitioner capable of handling any crisis, she was often impatient with me, rightly viewing me as a spoiled infant with no clue how to handle herself in a small Himalayan township peopled by hardy Tibetans (most of whom had bravely made their way over the mountains to be with their charismatic leader, who incidentally lived a mere ten minute walk away from me on the peak of a hill guarded by both Indians and his own people) and equally tough Indians.
Then she read a draft of my first novel and enjoyed it greatly; one sleepy afternoon she snapped at me that I was wasting my time moaning about the lack of interesting things to do and should start working again. Chastened, I listened to her, and soon the idea sprouted about writing a novel about Ashoka, magnificent Emperor of the Mauryas, who had dramatically transformed from cruel despot to benevolent monarch, and whose name, more than two thousand years after his death, still shines as a model of royal beneficence. The seed she planted in my mind so long ago has now grown into a full-grown saga and is about to be published as the third and final novel in my Moksha Trilogy.
[image error]We stayed close over the years, despite my moving away from the mountains, back to the West and back to Mother India again, and even when I opted out of the Tibetan Buddhist fold and into the cradle of Advaita. During her visit to me here, we enjoyed ourselves immensely, no surprise since she and I have a lot in common, mainly that we are both devoted to the inner path and are both known for our sharp tongues and unflinching directness.
Recently I was shocked to learn she had to be hospitalized for major surgery; I send light to her and all beings every single day, but now I went into hyper-drive, praying fervently for her recovery. aided by close friends who are making sure she is on the mend, she is doing fine now, thank god. This post is not to speak of medical matters, but to place on record how she impressed me with her amazing brightness and courage all through the grueling process.
[image error]I confess that physically I am a coward. An appointment with the dentist is enough to send me into conniptions, so to witness her staunch attitude and calm intelligence as she underwent a serious surgery was an inspiring and moving experience. Very few women I know have this capacity—to stay centered and happy even in the midst of a crisis. Modest as she is, I know she will downplay this tribute to her, but nevertheless I do this to remind myself how so many wonderful humans have shown me by powerful example how to face the many unexpected storms and tempests of mundane existence. Yes, we should all be so lucky to have a few sparkling gems like her in lives!
Greetings from Arunachala, Shiva the Destroyer in the form of a hill of fire and light, who guides us unerringly to know that we are far greater than both our desires and our fears, into the incandescent light of our own Self!
NEW!!! My latest book – COPPER MOON OVER PATALIPUTRA – just went live on Jun 30th. Read all about it and on how to get your own copy here.
If you’ve enjoyed reading my posts, please also check out my BOOKS and LINKS.
Follow Blog via Email
Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
Click the buttons below to SHARE if you liked this post.
Note: The REBLOG option is available only when viewing the post in full. Click on the post-title above if don’t see the REBLOG button below.
