Related stories
Sri Chinmoy's students describe their inner and outer experiences.
Patanga: my spiritual name
Patanga Cordeiro São Paulo, Brazil
Spirituality means speed
Patanga Cordeiro São Paulo, Brazil
The oneness of all paths - personal experiences
Nirbhasa Magee Dublin, Ireland
Filled with deepest joy
Tirtha Voelckner Munich, Germany
Seeing the God inside my son
Utsahi St-Armand Ottawa, Canada
A Divine Phone Call
Jogyata Dallas Auckland, New Zealand
In the Right Place, At the Right Time
Eshana Gadjanski Novi Sad, Serbia
A vision at 3 a.m in the morning
Abarita Dänzer Zürich, Switzerland
Celebrating birthdays at Guru's house
Devashishu Torpy London, United Kingdom
The very first time I heard about my spiritual Master
Banshidhar Medeiros San Juan, Puerto Rico
Running and Me
Garga Chamberlain Bristol, United Kingdom
Just go with it and jump!
Gabriele Settimi San Diego, United StatesSuggested videos
interviews with Sri Chinmoy's students
Siblings on a spiritual path
Pranlobha Kalagian Seattle, United States
How Sri Chinmoy appreciated enthusiasm
Prachar Stegemann Canberra, Australia
A childhood meeting with Sri Chinmoy
Devashishu Torpy London, United Kingdom
Winning the Swiss Alpine Marathon
Vajin Armstrong Auckland, New Zealand
Sri Chinmoy's vision of the Peace Run
Harita Davies New York, United States
How meditation helped me swim the English Channel
Abhejali Bernardova Zlín, Czech Republic
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.
