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Sri Chinmoy's students describe their inner and outer experiences.
Praying for God’s Grace to Descend
Sweta Pradhan Kathmandu, Nepal
You only have to keep your eyes and ears open
Gannika Wiesenberger Linz, Austria
If a wish comes from the soul, it will be granted
Kamalakanta Nieves New York, United States
Now you are in the boat
Kaushalya Casey Toronto, Canada
An intense, concentrated Fire
Toshala Elliott Auckland, New Zealand
I was just so transported by the atmosphere
Pulak Viscardi New York, United States
Sri Chinmoy meets St. Peter
Paramita Jarvis Kingston, Canada
Spiritual Friends
Preetidutta Thorpe Auckland, New Zealand
Sri Chinmoy's biography, written by one of the most famous Bengali authors
Mahatapa Palit New York, United States
Running for Peace
Jogyata Dallas Auckland, New Zealand
A 40-Year Blessing
Sarama Minoli New York, United States
Listen to the inner voice
Vidura Groulx Montreal, CanadaSuggested videos
interviews with Sri Chinmoy's students
Running a Six-Day Race
Ratuja Zub Minsk, Belarus
Sri Chinmoy's inner guidance
Kailash Beyer Zurich, Switzerland
Where the finite connects to the Infinite
Jogyata Dallas Auckland, New Zealand
Running for peace in the South Pacific
Nirbhasa Magee Dublin, Ireland
How meditation helped me swim the English Channel
Abhejali Bernardova Zlín, Czech Republic
Self-transcendence in meditation
Kailash Beyer Zurich, Switzerland
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.
