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The Connecting Link

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  • doris.cott
    The Connecting Link Noticing the tragic effects of attachment around me I found myself judging a little, perhaps I could not really comprehend how this could
    Message 1 of 1 , Jul 3, 2012
      The Connecting Link

      Noticing the tragic effects of attachment around me I found myself judging a little, perhaps I could not really comprehend how this could have happened. But today when I sat down to meditate unexpectedly an experience of mine from the past came to my mind and all the powerful memories with it. I felt as if Someone reminded me of it and wants me to write it down. It takes courage but I will try.

      Before I met Sri Chinmoy and his life-saving, life-illumining and life-elevating philosophy my life as a young girl circled around earthly friendships, worldly music, dance-clubs, art exhibtions and so on. We were not allowed to travel much, I am sure otherwise I would have added travelling. Days, weeks, months, even years went by spending my time with the same daily activities including weekends of dancing in different student's clubs. Not much did change when I met Kerstin, the only difference is that we both became students of Sri Chinmoy two years later.

      It was around 1988 when I met her. She was walking down the boulevard of our small city, a young, slender girl in blue jeans with fairy like hair so long you just couldn't take your eyes away from them. She turned around and I looked into star-like eyes flooded with goodness that were deep like those of deer. She was as beautiful as a fairy that even now when I am writing about her I am unable to choke back tears. She reminded me of a picture I had seen in some art gallery but didn't remember where. It was a picture of a young woman sitting next to the bed of a dad child, very sad and weeping. She looked exactly like Kerstin. It was as if she was waiting for me to approach her, or perhaps I had been staring at her a little too long. I smiled and said hello or something like that. She was about to go for a coffee in a nearby café and asked me if I would like to join her. I agreed though I was not a café type. To sit in a café makes me nervous, it is kind of strange for me but somehow I nodded and so we went. I was able to tell her the story about the picture of the sad woman that reminded me of her but she only smiled sweetly. We became friends. We spent some days with our children, weekend evenings at the different clubs. But we also became more and more aware of our differences of character. It wasn't always easy for us to deal with our high sensitivities...time passed by.

      The day came when we both met with the Sri Chinmoy disciples who had put up posters in our city, inviting people for a musical concert. I saw the poster later than she did and so it happened that she went to a meditaion workshop the day before the concert. When I met her afterwards I felt immediately some difference in her voice and in her eyes, something was deeper flowing and her eyes were brighter and shining.

      After the meditation class we both became disciples of Sri Chinmoy, but unlike me who enjoyed Joy Days immensely she always felt some tension. There were many little things she was unable to agree with, things I didn't take too seriously though I too did not understand everything. The main thing for me was the newborn joy, a joy to feel I had find my real home. All the seeking had an end, all the trial-and-error had an end. The best thing for me was the fact that the Sri Chinmoy disciples lived like brothers and sisters. I had never had the experience of pure love in my life (not even from my physical father) and welcomed their life-style without any but. It was a new freedom of a tiny leaf to touch the root of it's life-tree, whereas other leaves had to continue their play of separation pangs. I was happily out of the game. Gratitude is an understatement.

      Kerstin did not stay for long with us, perhaps for three years. She now lives her own life with a man and father of three grown up children, a father who had taught us the art of meditation. The only thing I heard from her some years ago was whether I could send her the bicycle she lent me, but I don't remember I ever lent a bicycle from her.

      "You lived your life intensely,
      That does not mean
      God loved your heart immensely."

      -Sri Chinmoy
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