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.


  1. "Well that should get rid of most of them... now, how to shift those die-hard readers and finally be free of this bastard blog???"

  2. Yes Hen, it should unload a few more, but there will always be just the few really annoying 'sticky fuckers' that nothing will shift!

  3. Wow what a rant!I was going to bed right now, but i woke up suddenly after reading this (on top of it we've put our clocks one hour forward today!!!).

    (((Bastard blog?)))*rub my eyes and yawn* Goodnight to you, wherever you are.

  4. Knowledge is what is missing in the so-called Information Age. People seem to think that acquiring billions of bytes of data will reveal the secret to life. HOW you sift through all of that information is what is important.

    Ozark Mountain Daredevils
    "Within Without"

    "now I'm flyin' through the air
    I'm not scared of people all underneath
    in a heap
    askin' how'd we get to here from there
    where our lives had some meaning
    and all the days weren't the same
    we played no games
    and we knew ourselves

  5. Anonymous31/3/08 16:28

    donn - you should sift it with your fingers.

    Knowledge, eh? I don't Know nothing.

  6. I survived the 60s...but then again it was in an incubator and a spit cup.

    Wonder if that has anything to do with how I turned out?

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