tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36231736740820660422012-01-28T12:26:51.121-08:00all textTEXT PROJECTnoreply@blogger.comBlogger171100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3623173674082066042.post-53781293973855949642008-11-24T10:36:00.000-08:002008-11-24T10:37:14.442-08:00

Try posting your blog everyday

TEXT PROJECTnoreply@blogger.com56tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3623173674082066042.post-2371603272309070662008-03-23T07:40:00.000-07:002008-03-23T07:41:40.091-07:00

We interviewed Shipibo maestro Leoncio Garcia, a man in his mid seventies but with the appearance of a man twenty years younger. Again a testimonial to the youth giving qualities of Ayahuasca and the plant medicines of the Amazon Rainforest.Interviewed at Mishana Private Retreat Centre, Amazon Rainforest with Peter Cloudsley August 2005.Leoncio Garcia I didn’t become a shaman until I was 50, I am

TEXT PROJECTnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3623173674082066042.post-79361170157285176292008-03-01T10:01:00.000-08:002008-03-01T10:04:18.350-08:00

Author: Anmol MehtaThere is a famous story of a Kundalini Yoga Master who was desperate to increase the amount of time he spent doing his daily meditation practice. The story says that the Yogi nailed his pony tail to the wall so that when he would start to dose off, he would be rudely awakened by his contraption, and that this technique allowed him to successfully meditate for 22 hours daily.

TEXT PROJECTnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3623173674082066042.post-7122099305391617192008-01-18T10:03:00.000-08:002008-01-18T10:12:36.504-08:00

The new voluminous published book, Encyclopedia of Ismailism - an output, labour, effort and research of one individual, exercises a handy reference guide for the students, teachers, waezeens, scholars and general readers on Ismailism.It purports a sort of a dictionary of Shia Ismaili Muslims history, tariqah, philosophy, political movements and their rich contributions to Islam. It induces the

TEXT PROJECTnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3623173674082066042.post-47864744720533406172008-01-18T09:53:00.000-08:002008-01-18T09:59:10.063-08:00

My recent travels in India far exceeded the realms of typical tourism. In fact,it was a very intense and enlightening spiritual pilgrimage. Throughout myjourney, I was continuously struck by the people, the aromas, the colors, the vibrations, the music, and the heavy energy of this magnificent country.I'd like to share with you the essence of the discoveries which lead tomy transformation. Though

TEXT PROJECTnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3623173674082066042.post-22040678523035480822008-01-17T09:27:00.000-08:002008-01-17T09:30:24.402-08:00

Author: William Frank DiedrichPeace is something we choose. At any given moment we may choose peace or conflict; peace or struggle. The moment you find yourself angry, upset, or stressing, you can choose peace. There is a beautiful verse from A Course in Miracles that reads: "I could choose peace instead of this." The practical applications of this verse are infinite. Anytime we are upset we can

TEXT PROJECTnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3623173674082066042.post-75898030226002144552008-01-17T09:23:00.000-08:002008-01-17T09:26:21.423-08:00

Author: YUSUF HASSANINTRODUCTION: Admittedly the world is full of various kind of industries. out of which many of them are being operated by heavy machines ,resulting in the mechanization of the human life It is admitted fact that each and every machines or a group of persons and one who manufacture the machines ,he or she knows the method of

TEXT PROJECTnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3623173674082066042.post-288120968338097122008-01-15T09:23:00.000-08:002008-01-15T09:28:41.444-08:00

Author: David StevensMeditation is a great way to relax yourself, but meditation also has many other benefits to enhance your life. Meditation means to take a break away from your daily life, from your job, from your concerns, and so on. It means to turn off your mobile phone, turn off may be your telephone and really practice meditation by yourself. Let your computer and your e-mails wait for a

TEXT PROJECTnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3623173674082066042.post-18522242128665536372008-01-14T09:38:00.000-08:002008-01-14T09:40:14.065-08:00

by Hazrat Inayat KhanThe soul on its way to manifestation passes through four states, "Ilm, "Ishq, Wujud, Shuhud. "Ilm is the original state of the consciousness, the pure intelligence; "Ishq is love, the next step of the intelligence towards manifestation; therefore intelligence and love are the same in their essence. Objects, such as rocks and trees, have no intelligence, therefore they have no

TEXT PROJECTnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3623173674082066042.post-84664712869841782362008-01-14T09:33:00.000-08:002008-01-14T09:36:23.947-08:00

by Hazrat Inayat KhanThe life absolute from which has sprung all that is felt, seen and perceived, and into which all again merges in time, is a silent, motionless and eternal life which among Sufis is called Dhat (zat). Every motion that springs forth from this silent life is a vibration and a creator of vibrations. Within one vibration are created many vibrations. As motion causes motion so the

TEXT PROJECTnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3623173674082066042.post-4373601257513062752007-08-21T21:42:00.000-07:002007-08-21T21:43:19.158-07:00

To a Poor Old Womanmunching a plum onthe street a paper bagof them in her handThey taste good to herThey taste goodto her. They tastegood to herYou can see it bythe way she gives herselfto the one halfsucked out in her handComforteda solace of ripe plumsseeming to fill the airThey taste good to herThe Young HousewifeAt ten A.M. the young housewifemoves about in negligee behindthe wooden walls of

TEXT PROJECTnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3623173674082066042.post-55587233800269887702007-08-21T21:41:00.000-07:002007-08-21T21:42:00.545-07:00

For the MarketIt is true, modern life is complicated.The feedback echoes before it speaks;the machine, lumping redress, cannot be directed.Additions radiate into the meaningless, and nothing.What is left over, but the will to work?To weave, like an old peasant on a dusty summer day,rugs of intelligence, berry-dyed lucidities,to sell to exploiters, and the restless rich.The Human AnimalTo make me

TEXT PROJECTnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3623173674082066042.post-24818288831002249572007-08-21T21:40:00.001-07:002007-08-21T21:40:36.387-07:00

Judy-Oneshe’s the camera’ssubject:the sun for colored film.her smile is likeclear light bouncing offthe darkness of themediterranean at nighttime.we all know it,her smile.when it’s working,moves like sea water—always going somewherestrongly.

TEXT PROJECTnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3623173674082066042.post-2727732338185766462007-08-21T21:38:00.002-07:002007-08-21T21:39:55.937-07:00

Eating PoetryInk runs from the corners of my mouth.There is no happiness like mine.I have been eating poetry.The librarian does not believe what she sees.Her eyes are sadand she walks with her hands in her dress.The poems are gone.The light is dim.The dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up.Their eyeballs roll,their blond legs burn like brush.The poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and

TEXT PROJECTnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3623173674082066042.post-90041434270017089262007-08-21T21:38:00.001-07:002007-08-21T21:38:49.974-07:00

The Death of the Ball Turret GunnerFrom my mother’s sleep I fell into the State,And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life,I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.

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Elegy for JaneMy Student, Thrown by a HorseI remember the neckcurls, limp and damp as tendrils;And her quick look, a sidelong pickerel smile;And how, once startled into talk, the light syllabels leaped for her,And she balanced in the delight of her thought,A wren, happy, tail into the wind,Her song trembling the twigs and small branches.The shade sang with her;The leaves, their whispers turned to

TEXT PROJECTnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3623173674082066042.post-46546552207211494762007-08-21T21:24:00.000-07:002007-08-21T21:25:24.403-07:00

A Man Said to the UniverseA man said to the universe:“Sir, I exist!”“However,” replied the universe,“The fact has not created in meA sense of obligation.”Many Red DevilsMany red devils ran from my heartAnd out upon the page.They were so tinyThe pen could mash them.And many struggled in the ink.It was strangeTo write in this red muckOf things from my heart.Black Riders Came from the SeaBlack

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