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Sri Chinmoy's students describe their inner and outer experiences.
It does not matter which spoon you use
Brahmacharini Rebidoux St. John's, Canada
A Mountain Meditation
Jogyata Dallas Auckland, New Zealand
The day I saw my Guru for the first time
Natabara Rollosson New York, United States
Sri Chinmoy meets an old friend
Pradhan Balter Chicago, United States
Listen to the inner voice
Vidura Groulx Montreal, Canada
The day I made a useless and ridiculous weightlifting machine for Guru
Devashishu Torpy London, United Kingdom
My life with Sri Chinmoy
Namrata Moses New York, United States
Failures are the pillars of success
Anugata Bach New York, United States
Connecting the dots
Lunthita Duthely Hialeah, United States
The happiest I've ever been
Gabriele Settimi San Diego, United States
The first time we met our Guru
Kaivalya, Devashishu and Sahadeva Torpy London, EnglandSuggested videos
interviews with Sri Chinmoy's students
How meditation helped me swim the English Channel
Abhejali Bernardova Zlín, Czech Republic
How Sri Chinmoy appreciated enthusiasm
Prachar Stegemann Canberra, Australia
Winning the Swiss Alpine Marathon
Vajin Armstrong Auckland, New Zealand
My typical day
Pranlobha Kalagian Seattle, United States
2 things that surprised me about the spiritual life
Jayasalini Abramovskikh Moscow, Russia
My first impressions of Sri Chinmoy's philosophy
Lunthita Duthely Hialeah, 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.
