Saturday, March 29, 2008

Prem Rawat - my teacher

Thirty five years ago I was living in the hills in a remote part of Wales. I had survived the glorious years of the late 60s, been to India, and returned to see the hippy dream of a society based on love, in tatters. I sought refuge in the quiet of the countryside.
I kind of knew by this time, that the secret to a successful life was inside myself - or to put that in a less 'spiritual' way, how I feel is all important - if I feel good, then life is fine. But as you probably know, feeling good is not always an easy option - it can come and go, and life can send some real tough times our way too.
I knew quite a lot about Indian philosophy by this time, and a lot of the theory rang true with my own experience. I pored over the scriptures, and practised yoga and meditation. I ate what I considered a very pure diet, and I adhered to a fairly tight moral code. I tried to accept what life sent my way, which wasn't always easy. I had some kind of understanding of the theory of the laws of karma, and I figured if I stopped acting in my own interest and allowed my life to take its course, liberation would be along shortly.
Now I look back at my noble efforts - I am not going to mock them ( please feel free if you would like to) but boy, am I glad that I don't live my life by those theories now.
Two years earlier Prem Rawat had come to the west. I had seen him speak at Glastonbury festival in 1971. I had also met some of his students in India, but at that time I wanted to pursue my own way. In April of 1973 I travelled down to London and received the techniques of what he calls 'Knowledge'.
That afternoon I left the house in Muswell Hill where the Knowledge session had taken place and I knew that I had just found out something pretty important. The guy that was with me said, 'Well, that was a waste of a day, wasn't it?', but I was flying.
Since then I have practised Knowledge pretty much every day, and I thoroughly enjoy it. I found it hard at first - I didn't really experience much when I first started, but as the years have gone by I began to experience more - I grew to look forward to the feeling and appreciate the simplicity of life that it gives me. Many of my friends who received knowledge all those years ago have since quit practising, but I've kept going. I love the way it puts me in the moment, and I love the way it helps keep things in perspective for me. The feeling I got on that first day, where I finally had the realisation that my mind and thoughts are not me - that experience has done me proud so far.
I don't tend to tell people about Prem Rawat and Knowledge. Once or twice I have, but it's all a bit close to home for me if you know what I mean. Some people get upset by it, and think it's a religion or a cult. I don't see it that way, there's no commitment like that - it's just a way of feeling good, that works for me.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Land for Sale

My eldest son Paul lives with his family in the Pyrenees, or near them. They own some land there and are doing up a ruin of a house to live in. To help finance the project they are trying to sell some of the land and another ruin. I just received this email from Paul.

We've just had a very uncomfortable few days with a couple of guests who'd come to look at the ruin and the land. Sarah ended up nearly chucking them out and said she'd rather work seven days a week for years than have them as neighbours. The woman was a bloody awful sanctimonious New Ager, absolutely no respect at all. I prefer "ordinary" people; fuck, I prefer people with really big tellies and who wash their cars on Sunday mornings!

Anyway, we've got some other people interested including a pretty sound French guy who'd make a good neighbour I think. We've set the "hippy filter" to maximum strength now - anyone named after a tree, a rock, a pagan festival or a heavenly body is out for a fucking start! Someone e-mailed us this morning saying that they loved the advert, but would wait a couple of months & if it was still unsold that might be the time! Fuck off! Her name was Saphire apparently. I should have put "fruitcakes need not apply" at the bottom of the ad!

How the hell did something so good as the original hippy ideal turn into such a nightmare. We've got kids round here called fucking Leaf and Tree - for fuck's sake. What next eh!

Friday, March 07, 2008

The meat on your plate

Hello, I have just been born. I am a female lamb so if I grow well and make a good sheep it will be a few years before I am electrically stunned, hung on a hook and have my throat slit. My brothers have about eight months before that happens to them.

I live on an organic farm, so while I am alive my life will be about as good as it gets for a sheep. Sweet unfertilised grass, no medicines or vaccines, a pretty cool owner who does his best to keep my stress levels to a minimum. At least when I am killed my meat will be pure and sweet, as God intended it to be. Sure it will cost more for you to buy bits of me, but hey, it's worth it just to know that you are not supporting the multi-national chemical industry, and also to know that you are not polluting your body and the planet. Quite important - dontcha think!

Kind Regards

A N Other-Sheep

I can't believe these survived. We went out last night at 11.00 in terrible weather, and found this first timer ewe at the top of the field with her waters broken. We got all the sheep in and I caught her and put her in a pen. I felt to see if the lamb was in the correct postion - I could feel the feet, so we decided to come back in an hour. When I got back at 1.30 she had the tiniest pair of twins I've ever seen. They were alive and she was interested in them, but I couldn't face waiting to see if they drank, so I went back to bed. This morning there they were, very tiny but very alive.