The Sudarshan Kriya, a powerful rhythmic breathing technique that facilitates physical, mental, emotional and social well-being is an integral part of Art of Living programmes.
It is today universally acclaimed for its effectiveness in eliminating stress and bringing one completely into the present moment.
As H. H. Sri Sri Ravi Shankar puts it, the Sudarshan Kriya came to him like an inspiration to bridge the gap between the worlds of inner silence and outer expression of life. Continue reading
Най-съкровеното желание на всеки човек е да бъде обичан. Всяка минута, всеки миг, се стремим да се извисим до благородството на красивия ум. Всеки миг възпитаваме у себе си хармония и равновесие със себе си и крещящите вътрешни гласове, които ни тласкат към низки страсти.
Така би звучало началото на един философски трактат за красивото, но аз съм просто човек и искам да кажа, че всеки ден се опитвам да давам необходимата доза духовна храна за моя ум и се опитвам да открия красотата вътре в себе си.
Тя е там – дълбоко спотаена в сърцето ми между безмерната любов към моето дете, към другото ми “Аз” – мъжката половина, която ме допълва и любовта към мен самата.
Да се научим да се обичаме и да се наслаждаваме на това, което сме и такива каквито сме. И да черпим от красотата на природата – от нейната креативност и съвършенство. От красивия ум до неговата красива физическа обвивка ни дели само една малка крачка. Нека да я направим заедно!
Да започнем с храна за душата – красотата на природата и нейните различни лица.
by Hans Christian Andersen
There was once a sculptor, named Alfred, who having won the large gold medal and obtained a travelling scholarship, went to Italy, and then came back to his native land. He was young at that time- indeed, he is young still, although he is ten years older than he was then. On his return, he went to visit one of the little towns in the island of Zealand. The whole town knew who the stranger was; and one of the richest men in the place gave a party in his honor, and all who were of any consequence, or who possessed some property, were invited. It was quite an event, and all the town knew of it, so that it was not necessary to announce it by beat of drum. Apprentice-boys, children of the poor, and even the poor people themselves, stood before the house, watching the lighted windows; and the watchman might easily fancy he was giving a party also, there were so many people in the streets. There was quite an air of festivity about it, and the house was full of it; for Mr. Alfred, the sculptor, was there. He talked and told anecdotes, and every one listened to him with pleasure, not unmingled with awe; but none felt so much respect for him as did the elderly widow of a naval officer. She seemed, so far as Mr. Alfred was concerned, to be like a piece of fresh blotting-paper that absorbed all he said and asked for more. She was very appreciative, and incredibly ignorant- a kind of female Gaspar Hauser.
“I should like to see Rome,” she said; “it must be a lovely city, or so many foreigners would not be constantly arriving there. Now, do give me a description of Rome. How does the city look when you enter in at the gate?”