Archive for January, 2013

Writing on 02.01.2013 I am sending y’all a big Thank You for all the good wishes.
Instead of sending wishes for a so-called “new” year I am offering you a gift, not only for one year, but for … life.
During the year 2012 I have been reading and re-reading the book “Life after Death. The book of answers” by Deepak Chopra not less than five times. Each time I re-read it, I received new insights. In addition to that I continuously kept on thinking about its contents and I also talked about it in what I call ” my weekly circle of men”.
The book is infuencing me deeply and for that reason I decided that at the beginning of this “new” year 2013, I would send you a gift instead of wishes.
My gift to you is (part of) a very old Indian tale about the meeting of the young woman Savitri and the monk Ramana, as I found it in Deepak Chopra’s book.
Believe me, it is sort of the ultimate gift because the title of the tale is nothing less than “The Cure for Dying”.

Here we go.

The Cure for Dying.

Following Ramana up a mountain, Savitri saw they were approaching a stream. Ramana the monk sat down, pulled out his reed flute and began to play.
When Ramana stopped playing he asked her: “What if I could teach you the cure for dying?”
Savitri was startled. “I’m sure everyone dies.”
“Then you believe in rumors.
What if I told you that you’ve never been happy? Would you believe me?”
“Of course not. I was happy this morning,” said Savitri.
Ramana nodded. “We all remember being happy and no one can talk us out of that knowledge. So let me ask you another question. Can you remember NOT being alive?”
“No,” Savitri said hesitantly.
“Try harder. Cast your mind back to when you were very, very small. Try as hard as you can remember NOT being alive. This is important, Savitri.”
“All right.”
Savitri tried her best, but she had no memory of not being alive.
“Perhaps you cannot remember not being alive because you always have been,” said Ramana. He pointed to a locust clutching to a twig over her head. “If you see a locust emerging from the ground after seven years’ sleep, does it mean it was dead before that?”
Savitri shook her head.
“Yet the only reason you believe you were born is that your parents saw you emerge from the womb. They thought they witnessed the moment you began to exist, so they spread the rumor you had been born.”
Savitri was astonished at this line of reasoning.
Ramana became insistent. “Look at this stream: All you see is a short stretch of it, yet would you say you know where the stream begins or where it ends? Heed me, Savitri. You accept death because you accept birth. Therefore you think the two must go together. Forget these rumors that you were ever born. That is the only cure for dying.”
Ramana stood up and asked: “Do you believe me?”
“I want to believe you, but I am still afraid,” Savitri admitted.
“We can’t base reality on what we don’t remember, only on what we do. Everyone remembers being; nobody remembers nonbeing,” Ramana said and walked on.

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