35,000 feet above the snow drenched mountains of Colorado. I jot down the opening lines of a poem I might someday write, but doze before much comes out. The words sprawl lazily across my notebook, then trail off the page as sleep comes...
Sometimes I feel like a slingshot, hurled,
Flung far into the void.
At last come to rest on some distant shore.
Sometimes I feel like a banner unfurled,
Hoisted aloft, heraldic,
Your victory to proclaim in some distant war.
Sometimes I feel like a child, curled,
Asleep in your arms, Beloved
Dreaming of promises made I can't ignore
Hearing You say "Awake! You must do more!"
Dreaming of promises made in lives before...
– Jogyata. (Source)
Sri Chinmoy's students describe their inner and outer experiences.
If I can smile like that, it's worth becoming a discipleMahatapa Palit New York, United States
Is it unspiritual to care about winning?Tejvan Pettinger Oxford, United Kingdom
In the Whirlwind of LifePradeep Hoogakker The Hague, Netherlands
Spiritual moments with my grandmotherPatanga Cordeiro São Paulo, Brazil
I just knew from the moment I saw himAshrita Furman New York, United States
Now you are in the boatKaushalya Casey Toronto, Canada
A Truckload of Humanitarian Aid Sails through CustomsArthada Platzgummer Vienna, Austria
Connecting the dotsLunthita Duthely Hialeah, United States
My life with Sri ChinmoyNamrata Moses New York, United States
The first time we met our GuruKaivalya, Devashishu and Sahadeva Torpy London, England
Why run 3100 miles?Smarana Puntigam Vienna, Austria
Learning to love songs ever morePatanga Cordeiro São Paulo, Brazil
interviews with Sri Chinmoy's students