Related stories
Sri Chinmoy's students describe their inner and outer experiences.
Our Guru becomes the perfect disciple
Devashishu Torpy London, United Kingdom
'Always say things in such a way as to inspire people, not discourage them'
Pradhan Balter Chicago, United States
A disciple re-incarnates
Jogyata Dallas Auckland, New Zealand
A Truckload of Humanitarian Aid Sails through Customs
Arthada Platzgummer Vienna, Austria
My 5 a.m. strategic meditations
Sanchita Fleming Ottawa, Canada
My Life with Sri Chinmoy: a book
Tejvan Pettinger Oxford, United Kingdom
The day I saw my Guru's Third Eye
Vidura Groulx Montreal, Canada
It does not matter which spoon you use
Brahmacharini Rebidoux St. John's, Canada
A spiritual name is the name of our soul, and what we can become
Nayak Polissar Seattle, United States
In the Right Place, At the Right Time
Eshana Gadjanski Novi Sad, Serbia
I see infinitely more than I say
Agraha Levine Seattle, United States
The connection between Sri Chinmoy's music and my soul
Kamalakanta Nieves New York, United StatesSuggested videos
interviews with Sri Chinmoy's students
How meditation helped me swim the English Channel
Abhejali Bernardova Zlín, Czech Republic
How can we create harmony in the world?
Baridhi Yonchev Sofia, Bulgaria
Spirituality - the most fascinating subject on earth
Laila Faerman New York, United States
My daily spiritual practises
Muslim Badami Auckland, New Zealand
Running the world's longest race
Jayasalini Abramovskikh Moscow, Russia
The greatest adventure that you can embark on
Mahatapa Palit 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.
