When I was younger, I used to think karma was exclusive to the faith I grew up with. As I grow older, I see that many faiths have some written derivative of this concept.
While walking through 2nd and Mission Street at 6:00 in the morning, I noticed a large flock of birds flying towards the Bay Bridge. There had to be over 200 of them and from my vantage point, they looked synchronistic.
As I set route to run through Golden Gate Park, I’m halted and forcibly ambushed by the senses. Every where I turn I’m infiltrated by the colors, smells, sights, and sounds of nature.
I’ve been practicing meditation with formal and informal training for a few years now. Today I wanted to share practical things that have worked for me and may work for you.
Now before I begin, let me just reference that meditation is much more than sitting in one place with your eyes closed for extended periods of time. Although, I do this for about an hour a day, it came with practice, and making the decision to live as a monk for 10 days, I’ve learned that moments of joy and bliss are open to us at all times.
I’m currently reading Letters from a Stoic by Seneca. He was a Roman Stoic philosopher and his work has had profound impacts on my life. I wanted to share some golden nuggets of wisdom from his book.
Whether it’s wealth, love, education, death, joy, or getting older. Seneca has something to say about it. Since you may be in a time crunch, I’ve taken the liberty to jot down some of the most important parts in the book, complete with my own commentaries.
I wake up between 4:30–5:00 am 7 days a week. It’s come to a point where staying in bed past these hours is incomprehensible. Because I am trying to create a livelihood through writing and other creative projects, having a system in place where I can stir up inspiration is a necessity.
Picture an apple tree. Now picture an apple falling down. What happens over time? The apple looses its freshness and if not eaten — decays and eventually dies.
After all the meditation, philosophic readings, and walks in nature I have learned very little. I thought the lessons in life would guide me to learn something profound. I thought I’d find a calling, perhaps some purpose, and maybe some meaning to all this madness.
It was the 13th day of September and my mother had called me to visit. It had been about a month since I last saw her so time with her was past due and she was persistent that I come by.
The last few days of an Indian summer were upon us. The sky was blue, without a cloud in sight, and the heat from the sun wasn’t intrusive. Rather, it felt like a warm blanket that coated our skin.
I was born in America and grew up Hindu. Growing up I took part in rituals that were performed at pooja’s (prayer meetings) without understanding why?
I asked my parents, elders, and even the priests that performed the religious ceremonies simple questions about God, my skepticism, and confusion. I couldn’t get a straight answer from anyone.