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Sri Chinmoy's students describe their inner and outer experiences.
If I could remember this in my daily life now, I'd be a very high soul
Charana Evans Cardiff, Wales
Sri Chinmoy's biography, written by one of the most famous Bengali authors
Mahatapa Palit New York, United States
President Gorbachev: a special soul brought down for a special reason
Mridanga Spencer Ipswich, United Kingdom
A barrage of Candy Bullets
Jogyata Dallas Auckland, New Zealand
How my spiritual search led me to Sri Chinmoy
Vidura Groulx Montreal, Canada
The day I saw my Guru for the first time
Natabara Rollosson New York, United States
Your life's responsibilities compel you to develop inner strength
Pradhan Balter Chicago, United States
Learning to follow my intuition
Saranyu Pearson Geelong, Australia
So much longing, for something
Pushpa rani Piner Ottawa, Canada
I see infinitely more than I say
Agraha Levine Seattle, United States
The Peace Run visits Oxford
Tejvan Pettinger Oxford, United Kingdom
Learning to love songs ever more
Patanga Cordeiro São Paulo, BrazilSuggested videos
interviews with Sri Chinmoy's students
Meditation: you make progress just by doing it
Jogyata Dallas Auckland, New Zealand
Selfless Service
Brian David Seattle, United States
'Everyone is feeling nothing but love'
Suren Leosson Reykjavik, Iceland
How I became interested in meditation
Abhejali Bernardova Zlín, Czech Republic
Experiences of meditation
Preetidutta Thorpe Auckland, New Zealand
Sri Chinmoy's vision of the Peace Run
Harita Davies New York, United States
I can recall only one occasion in my life when, ever so briefly, I fondly imagined that I was about to become enlightened. It was way back in 1978 and I was sitting in the cold winter sunshine on the shores of Rabbit Island, near Nelson in
Alas, as the hours wore on my euphoria receded, along with my expectation of an enlightenment experience, and I realised that I was about to rejoin the great Multitudes of the Unenlightened. The tide had come in and one of my discarded shoes, mocking my dismay, bobbed past me in the tide, enjoying its own brief liberation from worldly constraints. But the doorway had opened and I would never forget this sweet feeling of the inner life, like the distant memory of a happy childhood awoken by the fragrance, half a lifetime later, of a single tiny flower.
