I hope this extract touches you and teaches you about yourself the way it has moved me and so many others who have come across it or the book. This is an extract from Chapter 2.

Chapter 2 – I Am Ramtha
“I have done it all. And for that, entity, I gained
wisdom from everything I had ever done and I will
never have to do it again. I am virtuous, entity, for I
have done all things to become what I am. How do
you know what love is, entity, until you have hated?
How do you know what life is until you are at the
edge of dying, and the sun will set in spite of your
death and the fowl won ‘t even look at you. You don’t
know that until you have come to the point, as it were
indeed, of realization. ”
- Ramtha

I am Ramtha, the Ram. In the ancient language of my times
it means “the God.” I am the great Ram of the Hindu people, for
I was the first man born of the womb of woman and the loins of
man who ever ascended from this plane. I learned how to ascend
not through the teachings of any man but through an innate
understanding of the God that lives in everything. I was also a
man who hated and despised, who slew and conquered and ruled
right into my enlightenment.
I was the first conqueror this plane knew. I began a march
that lasted sixty-three years, and I conquered three-quarters of
the known world. But my greatest conquest was of myself,
coming to terms with my own existence. When I learned to love
myself and embrace the whole of life, I ascended with the wind
into forever.
I ascended in front of my people on the northeast side
of the mount called Indus. My people, who numbered more
than two million, were a mixture of Lemurians, the people
from Ionia – later to be termed Macedonia – and the
tribespeople escaping from Atlatia, the land you call Atlantis.
It is my people’s lineage that now makes up the populace of
India, Tibet, Nepal, and Southern Mongolia.
I lived but one lifetime upon this plane, what is called in
your understanding of time 35,000 years ago. I was born in
ignorance and desperation to an unfortunate people, pilgrims from
the land called Lemuria living in the slums of Onai, the greatest
port city of Atlatia in its southern sphere. I came to Atlatia during
what is called the last hundred years, before the continent broke
up and great waters covered its land.

At that time Atlatia was a civilization of people with great
intellect, whose endowment for scientific understanding was
superb. Their science was even greater than what you have at this
time in your scientific community, for the Atlatians had begun to
understand and use the principles of light. They knew how to
transform light into pure energy through what you term lasers.
They even had aero ships that traveled on light, a science provided
to them through an intercommunication with entities from other
star systems. Though their ships were very primitive, they were
nonetheless mobile and airborne. Because of the Atlatians’ great
involvement with technology, they worshiped the intellect. Thus
intellectual science became the religion of the Atlatians.
The Lemurians were quite different from the Atlatians. Their
social system was built upon communication through thought.
They had not the advancement of technology, only a great spiritual
understanding, for my forefathers were great in their knowingness
of unseen values. They worshiped and revered that which was
beyond the moon, beyond the stars. They loved an essence that
could not be identified. It was a power they called the Unknown
God. Because the Lemurians worshiped only this God, the
Atlatians despised them, for they despised anything that was not
progressive.
In the days of the Ram when I was a little boy, life was
destitute and very arduous. At that particular point in time Atlatia
had already lost its technology, for its scientific centers in the
north had been destroyed long ago. In their experiments with
traveling on light, the Atlatians had pierced the cloud cover that
completely surrounded your planet, much as it surrounds Venus
today. When they pierced the stratosphere, great waters fell and a
freeze occurred, which put most of Lemuria and the northern
parts of Atlatia under great oceans; thus the people from Lemuria
and the north of Atlatia fled to the southern regions of Atlatia.
Once technology was lost in the north, life gradually became
primitive in the south. During the hundred years before all of
Atlatia was submerged, the southernmost region was a primitive
Atlatia that had degenerated into the rule of tyrants. The tyrants
governed the people not through a republic but through irrefutable
law. In the government of irrefutable law, the Lemurians were
considered the dung of the earth, less than a dog in the street.
Contemplate for a moment being spat upon, urinated upon,
and allowed to wash it away only with your tears. Contemplate
knowing that the dogs in the streets have greater nourishment
than you who hunger for anything to kill the agony in your belly.
In the streets of Onai, it was common to see the
brutalization of children and the beating and rape of women. It
was common to see Atlatians pass a starving Lemurian on the
road and hold their noses with kerchiefs of fine linen dipped in
jasmine and rose water, for we were considered stinking, wretched
things. We were the no-things, the soulless, mindless wastes of
intellect because we were without the scientific understanding of
such things as gases and light. Because we did not possess an
intellectual bent, as it were, we were turned into slaves to work
the fields.
That was when I was born upon this plane. That was my
time. What sort of dream was I in? The advent of man into the
arrogance and stupidity of intellect.
I did not blame my mother that I did not know who my
father was. I did not blame my brother that our fathers were not
the same, nor did I blame my mother for our absolute poverty.
As a little boy I watched as my mother was taken into the streets
and had her sweetness taken from her. After my mother was taken,
I watched a child grow inside her belly and I knew whose it was.
And I watched my mother weep, for would there be another child
in the streets to suffer as we had suffered in this promised land?
Because my mother was too weak to bear the child alone, I
helped her give birth to my little sister. I scrounged in the streets
for food, killed dogs and wildfowl, and s tole grain from
proprietors late in the evening, for I was very deft on my feet. I
fed my mother, who in turn suckled my little sister.
I did not blame my little sister for the death of my beloved
mother, for the little girl suckled away all of my mother’s strength.
My sister became diarrhetic and could not hold what was going
into her body, and so she too lost all the life in her body.
I laid my mother and sister together and went to gather
timbers. I put the timbers on top of them and stole away into the
night to gather fire. I said a prayer to my mother and my sister,
whom I loved greatly. Then I lit the timbers swiftly so that the
stench from their bodies would not disturb the Atlatians, for if it
did the Atlatians would fling their bodies into the desert where
the hyenas would prey upon them and tear them apart.
As I watched my mother and sister burn, my hatred for the
Atlatians increased within my being to where it became like venom
from a great viper. And I was only a little boy.
As the stench and smoke from the fire spread throughout
the valley, I thought about the Unknown God of my people. I
could not understand the injustice of this great God or why he
would create the monsters that hated my people so. What did my
mother and little sister ever do to deserve the wretched deaths
they experienced?
I did not blame the Unknown God for his inability to love
me. I did not blame him for not loving my people. I did not blame
him for the death of my mother and my little sister. I did not
blame him; I hated him.
I had no one left, for my brother was kidnapped by a satrap
and taken into subserviency into the land that would later be called
Persia. There he was abused for the pleasure of the satrap and
his need for what is called loin gratification.
I was a lad of fourteen with no meat upon my bones and
a great bitterness inside me. So I decided to do battle with the
Unknown God of my forefathers, the only thing I felt worthy
of dying by. I was determined to die, but as an honorable man.
And I felt that dying at the hands of man was a dishonorable
way to perish.
I saw a great mountain, a very mysterious place that loomed
on the distant horizon. I thought that if there were a God, he
would live there, above us all, just as those who governed our
land lived above us. If I could climb there, I thought, I would get
in touch with the Unknown God and proclaim my hatred for him
at his unfairness to humanity.
I left my hovel and journeyed for many days to reach this
great mountain, devouring locusts and ants and roots along the
way. When I reached the mount I climbed into the clouds, which
now veiled its whitened peak, in order to do battle with the
Unknown God. I called out to him, “I am a man. Why have I not
the dignity of one?” And I demanded that he show me his face,
but he ignored me.
I fell upon my haunches and wept heartily, until the
whiteness iced itself from my tears. When I looked up, I beheld
what seemed to be a wondrous woman holding a great sword
before me. She spoke to me saying, “0 Ram, 0 Ram, you who
are broken in Spirit, your prayers have been heard. Take this
sword and conquer yourself.” And in but a blink of my eye she
was gone.
Conquer myself? I could not turn the blade around and
hack off my own head; my arms would not reach the hilt of the
sword. Yet I found honor in this great sword. No longer did I
shiver against the great cold but found warmth instead. And when
I looked again where my tears had fallen, there grew a flower of
such sweet aroma and color that I knew the flower was of hope.
I came down from the mountain with the great sword in
my hand, a day which was recorded in the history of the Hindu
people as the terrible day of the Ram. A boy had gone to that
mountain, but a man returned. No longer frail or weak of bodily
movement, I was a Ram in every sense of the word. I was a young
man with a terrible light about me and a sword that was larger
than I was. Sometimes I think I was very slow to understand in
that existence, for I never fully realized why the wondrous sword
was so light that I could carry it, yet it was so large that nine
hands together could hold the hilt of it.
I returned from the mountain to the city of Onai. In the
fields outside the city I saw an old woman stand up and shade her
eyes to look at me a’coming. Soon all stopped their labors. Carts
stopped. Donkeys squealed. Everything became quiet. When the
people ran up to look upon my countenance, they must have been
persuaded because everyone of them took up his meager tool
and followed me into the city.
We destroyed Onai because the Atlatians spat in my eye
when I demanded they open the granaries to feed our people. So
unprepared were the Atlatians for this that they were easily
overtaken, for they did not know of battle.
I opened the granaries to our poor people, and then we
burned Onai to the ground. It never occurred to me that I couldn’t
do that, for I did not care if I lived or died at that point; I had
nothing left to live for.
When the slaughter and burning were finished, a great hurt
was still within my being, for my hatred had not been satisfied.
So I ran from the people to hide in the hills, but they followed
me in spite of all my cursing and throwing stones and spitting
at them.

“Ram, Ram, Ram, Ram,” they chanted, carrying their tools
of the field and grain tied in linens, and herding sheep and goats
before them. I shouted at the people to leave me alone and go
home. But still they came, for they no longer had a home. I was
their home.
Since they insisted on following after me wherever I went, I
gathered together all these soulless creatures of different
denominations, and they became my army, my people. And great
people were they indeed. But soldiers? Hardly. But from then on,
the great army of the Ram assembled itself. Its number in the
beginning was close to ten thousand.
From that time I was a driven entity, a barbarian, who
despised the tyranny of men. I hated man and fought, fully
expecting to die. I did not have the fear of dying that many of my
people did because I wanted to die honorably. I never knew fear.
I only knew hate.
When you lead a charge and you are the one in front, with
no one on either side of you, you have to be crazy. A person who
would do that is filled with a powerful drive called hate. So I was
very much a spectacle to be hewed down by the noblest of foe, if
they would only do me the honor. And I picked the worthiest
opponents to be my demise. But, you know, when there is an
absence of fear, there is a presence of conquering. Thus I became
a great conqueror. Before my time there was no such thing as a
conqueror, only tyrants.
I created war. I was the first conqueror this plane ever knew.
Until my time there was no warring faction against the arrogance
of the Atlatians. None. I created it. In my anger and hostility and
my desire to be noble and honorable to what I felt, I became
what you would term a great entity. Know you what a hero is?
Well, I was one indeed. The hero salvages life and puts an end to
the wrongs of life, not realizing that in doing so, he is also creating
a wrong. I desired to do away with all forms of tyranny and I did,
only to become the very thing I despised.
Thereafter I was driven to slay tyranny and to make the
color of my skin more respectable. And from all the sieges and
battles we put forth – the lands that we crossed and all the people
we freed along the way – one by one my army grew, and great
became the legend of the Ram and his army.
I was an imbecile, a barbarian, a buffoon, an ignorant entity
of savage acclaim. And for ten years into my march, I warred
upon innocents and hacked and burned my way across many
lands until I was run through with a great sword. Had they left
it in me, I might have been all right, but they pulled it out to
make sure that I would bleed to death. I saw the river of life
ebbing from my being onto a snowy, marble floor that seemingly
was perfect, only to see that the river of scarlet had found a
crack in it.

As I lay there on the cold, marble floor, watching the blood
issue forth from my being, there came a voice. It spoke to me and
it said, “Stand up.” It said, “Stand up.”
I pulled up my head and put forth my palms. Then I began
to pull under me the knees of my being. As I raised my
countenance so that my head was erect and even, I pulled up
my left foot and stabilized it. Then gathering all of my strength,
I put my hand upon my knee, my fist into my wound, and I
stood up.
As I stood there – with blood issuing from my mouth,
flowing through my fingers, and running down my legs – my
assailants, who were now certain that I was immortal, fled from
me. My soldiers laid siege to the city and burned it to the ground.
I would never forget the voice that made me stand up, that
kept me from dying. In the years to come I would seek to find the
face of that voice.
I was given to the court of women in my march to be cared
for. And I had to endure the stinking poultices of vulture grease
that were put upon my chest. I had to be bossed by the women
and undressed before their eyes. I could not even urinate or spill
dung from my anus in private but had to do it in front of them, a
most humiliating experience. I have acclaimed even to this day
that the vulture grease was not to heal me but was so wretched
that when I breathed it, it kept life in me. During my healing,
much of my pride and hate had to give way to survival.
While I was recovering from my ghastly wound and couldn’t
do anything else, I began to contemplate everything around me.
One day I watched an old woman pass from this plane, clutching
heartily the crudely woven linen she had made for her son who
had perished long ago. I saw the woman pass in the light of the
noonday sun, life ebbing from her body in choking strokes of
weeping. As I watched the old woman shrivel in the light, her
mouth opened to an aghast expression and her eyes became glazed,
unaffected by the light. Nothing moved, save the breeze and her
old hair.

I thought about the woman and her son who had perished,
and I thought about their great intelligence. Then I looked back
at the sun, which never perished. It was the very same sun the old
woman had seen through a crack in the roof of her hovel when
she first opened her eyes as a babe, and it was the last thing she
saw when she died.
I looked again at the sun. You know, it was oblivious that
she had died. I watched it as we buried the old woman under a
tall poplar tree by the river.
As the sun set that evening, I cursed it. I watched it set upon
the mantle of the mountains like a great fiery jewel, scarlet-eyed. I
looked upon the purpled mountains and the valley, already shrouded
in mist, and saw rods of the sun’s light gild all things and make
them illusionarily beautiful. I saw clouds, once the pallor of blue,
become vividly alive in hues of scariet, fire-rose, and pink.
I continued to watch the great light as it retired behind the
mountains, now looming like piercing teeth on the horizon, until
the last rods of its beauty had descended behind the last mount.
I heard a night bird cry above me, and I looked into the heavens
to see the pale moon waxing against a darkening sky. A breeze
came up and as it blew my hair and dried my tears it made me sick
in my being.

You know, I was a great warrior. With a sword I could
cleave a man in half in a moment. I had beheaded, hacked, and
butchered. I had smelled blood and burned people. But why did
I do all of that? The sun set in its magnificence anyway. The
bird cried in the night anyway. And the moon came up in spite
of it all.
That is when I began to ponder the Unknown God. The
only thing I truly wanted was to understand that which seemed
so awesome, so mysterious, and so very far away. And what was
man? What was he? Why was he not greater than the sun? Why
couldn’t the old woman live? Why was man – though the
teeming multitude upon the plane, the creating force, the unifying
force – the most vulnerable of all creation? If man was so
important, as my people told me, why wasn’t he important
enough that when he died, the sun stood still to mourn his
passing, or the moon turned purple, or the fowl ceased to fly?
Man was very unimportant, it seemed, for all these things
continued in spite of his peril.
All I wanted was to know.
I did not have a teacher to teach me of the Unknown God,
for I did not trust any man. I had seen and lost so much through
the wickedness of man and his altered thinking. I had seen man
despise man and think him to be soulless. I had seen innocents
gutted and burned out of fear. I had seen children, naked on
slave blocks, examined by perverted souls who plucked from them
their hairs of adolescence so they would still have the image of
young children as they were raped. I had seen priests and prophets
invent, through their hatred for mankind, creatures of great
torment and ugliness so they could govern and enslave people
through the rule of religious forms.
There was no man living that I would have as my teacher,
for any man living had altered thinking, had taken that which was
really pure and innocent and altered it through his own limited
understanding. So I wanted nothing to do with a God created
through man’s understanding, for if man created the God, the
God was fallible.

It was life’s elements, the truest teachers of all, that taught
me of the Unknown God. I learned from days. I learned from
nights. I learned from tender, insignificant life that abounded even
in the face of destruction and war.
I contemplated the sun in its advent of glory upon the
horizon. I watched its journey through the heavens, ending up in
the western sphere and passing into its sleep. I learned that the
sun, though mute, subtly controlled life, for all who were brave
and gallant and warring with one another ceased their warring
when the sun went down.
I watched the beauty of the moon in her pale light as she
danced across the heavens, illuminating the darkness in mysterious
and wonderful ways. I saw the fires from our encampment and
how they lit up the evening sky. I listened to the wildfowl landing
on the water, birds rustling in their night nest, and children and
their laughter. I observed falling stars, nightingales, the frost on
the reeds, and the lake silvered with ice to create the illusion of
another world. I saw the leaves of olive trees turn from emerald
to silver as the wind blew through them.
I observed women standing in the river as they gathered
water in their urns, their clothing tied up in knots to reveal their
alabaster knees. I listened to the clatter of the women’s gossip
and the teasing in their laughter. I smelled the smoke from distant
fires and the garlic and wine on the breath of my men.
It was not until I observed and pondered life and its
ongoingness that I discovered who the Unknown God truly was.
I reasoned that the Unknown God was not the Gods created
through the altered thinking of man. I realized that the Gods in
men’s minds are only the personalities of the things they fear and
respect the most; that the true God is the ongoing essence that
permits man to create and play out his illusions, however he
chooses, and that will still be there when man returns yet again
another spring, another life. I realized that it is in the power and the
ongoingness of the life force where the Unknown God truly lies.
Who was the Unknown God? It was me, and the birds in
their night nest, the frost on the reeds, the morning dawn, and
evening sky. It was the sun and the moon, children and their
laughter, alabaster knees and running water, and the smell of
garlic and leather and brass. This understanding took a long
time for me to grasp, though it had been right in front of me all
the time. The Unknown God wasn’t beyond the moon or the
sun. It was all around me. And with this new birth of reasoning,
I began to embrace life, to hold that dear to me, and to find a
reason to live. There was more than blood and death and the
stench of war. There was life, far greater than we had ever
perceived it to be.
lt was through this realization that I would understand in
the years to come that man is the greatest of all things; that the
only reason the sun is ongoing, while man dies, is the sun never
even contemplates death. All it knows is to be.
When I realized through contemplative thought who the
Unknown God was and what it was, I did not wish to wither and
die, as the old woman had died. There must be a way, I thought,
to be as ongoing as the sun.

Once I had healed from the dire wound to my body, I had
little to do but to sit upon a plateau and watch my army grow fat
and lazy. One day as I looked to the horizon to see the vague
outline of ghostly mountains and valleys yet uncharted, I
wondered what would it be like to be the Unknown God, the life
element. How could I be part of this essence that is ongoing?
That is when the wind played a jest upon me and insulted
me beyond my means. It blew up my cloak, which was long and
regal, and dumped it on top of my head, a most embarrassing
thing. Not a very noble position for a conqueror. Then the wind
caused a wonderful pillar of saffron-colored dust to form a
column beside me all the way up into the heavens. Then when I
was not paying enough attention, the wind ceased, allowing all
the dust to fall upon me.
Then the wind went whistling down the canyon, down to
where the river flowed, and on through the wonderful olive
orchards, turning the leaves from emerald to silver. And it blew a
beautiful maiden’s skirt up around her waist, with all the giggling
that went on from that. And then it blew the hat from a little
child’s head and the child went racing after it, laughing gleefully.
I demanded that the wind come back to me, but it only
laughed in its gales in the canyon. Then when I was blue in the
face from shouting orders, I sat back down upon my haunches
and it came and blew in my face softly. That is freedom.
While there was no man I would have as my ideal, the wind
performed itself to be very much an ideal for me. You cannot see
the wind, yet when it comes upon you in a fury, you are assailed.
And no matter how grand and powerful you are, you cannot
declare war upon the wind. What can you do to it? Cleave it with
your broadsword? Hack it with your ax? Spit upon it? It will only
throw it back in your face.
What else could man be, I thought, that would give him
such free movement, such power; that could never be captivated
by the limited nature of man; that would permit him to be in all
places at all times and, unlike man, never dies?
To me the wind was an ultimate essence, for it is ongoing,
free-moving, all-consuming. It has no boundaries and no form.
It is magical, exploratory, and adventurous, and that indeed is
the closest resemblance there is to the God essence of life. And
the wind never judges man. The wind never forsakes man. The
wind, if you call it, will come to you through love. Ideals should
be like that.
So I desired to become the wind. And I contemplated on it
for years and years. That became my ideal. That was what I wanted
to be. That was what all my thoughts were bent on becoming. I
contemplated the wind and aligned myself with its elusiveness
and lightness and contours that are indefinable. And as I
contemplated the wind, it was the wind that I became in my search
for becoming.
The first occurrence was not until six years after I had been
run through. Every evening I would go and sit upon my solitary
plateau, gaze into the moon with her soft pallor, and contemplate
the wind. And there came a time, much to my surprise, when I
found myself aloft in the heavens and did not know who I was
when I turned to look down.
In but a moment I realized that I was far away from my
simple speck of a body down on the plateau. When I looked down
upon my embodiment, I felt fear for the first time since I was run
through. It was fear that brought me back to the body.
I opened my eyes to a cold/hot sweat over the realization
that I had been elsewhere, outside of the prison of my
embodiment. I was in paradise because I was sure that I had
become the wind. I flung myself to the ground and praised God:
the Source, the Power, the Cause, the Wind. I would never forget
that splendid moment when I became the grace and beauty and
bountiful life of the wind. And I reasoned that what allowed me
to become that was my complete determination to become my
ideal, always holding clear in thought the vision of what I wanted
to become.
The next eve I went to my place of solitary movement,
contemplated the wind with exuberant joy, and I became nothing.
I tried again and again and again. I knew that my experience was
not simply my imagination. I had seen a different perspective. I
had been in the air as a dove or a hawk and had seen my pitiful
self below me.
Nothing did I want, nothing did I desire – nothing – except
the one thought of becoming that freedom. But no matter how
hard I struggled and how much sweat broke out upon my body
and how much cursing followed thereafter, I didn’t go anywhere.
I stayed – and much heavier than before – because I had become
more aware, mind you, of how heavy I was. But I never lost sight
of my ideal, nor did I ever forget that moment of feeling when I
first looked down upon my pitiful body.
It was a long time before I became the wind again, two
years in your time, reckoning from the first event. This time it
happened not upon contemplating the wind but upon going into
a restful sleep. I had praised the Source, the sun, life, saffron
dust, the moon, the stars, the sweet smells of jasmine. I praised
them all. And ere I closed my lids, I was in the heavens again as
the wind.

Once I had perfected my ability to leave my body, it took
me a long time to reckon how to go places. Then it happened one
day that one of my men came into a most perilous position. He
had fallen from his horse with his foot still lodged in a stirrup.
The moment I put my thought with him, I was with him, and I
released his heel. I stood over him and wished him well, but he
thought I was a dream.
For many years I traveled in thought into other kingdoms
and to other entities. I visited civilizations in the birth of their
future and lives yet unseen. I learned to travel in moments, for I
learned that wherever the thought is, so is the entity. And how
did I conquer thereafter? I was an awesome foe, for I knew my
enemies’ thinking; thus I outwitted them all. No longer did I
besiege kingdoms; I let them besiege themselves.
Slowly over many years – as the thought of becoming
my ideal became the very life force in the cells of my
embodiment – my soul gradually changed the programming in
every cellular structure to increase the vibratory rate within them,
my desire was that strong. The more peaceful I became with
life, the more that emotion carried through my entire physical
arrangement until I became lighter and lighter and lighter. People
would look at me and say, “Alas, there is a glow about the master.”
There was, for my body was vibrating at a faster rate of speed,
going from the speed of matter into the speed of light. That is
what emanated a glow from my being.
In time my body became fainter and fainter by the light of
the moon. Then one night I became where the moon was. No
longer did I simply travel in thought. I had raised my bodily
vibrations into light and had taken my entire embodiment with
me. I was gleeful and mirthful, for that which I had done was
unheard of. Yet I came back, but only to see if I could do it again.
And I did, again and again and again, sixty-three times before my
final ascension. It became an expectancy, as breathing is to you.
When I became the wind, I realized how truly limited I had
been and how free the elements were. When I became the wind, I
became an unseen power that has no form, that is pulsating light,
indivisible. In that, I could move with freedom through valleys
and dales and glens, through mountains and oceans and stratums,
and none could see me. And, like the wind, I had the power to
turn leaves from emerald to silver, to move trees that are
unshakable, to go into the lungs of a babe, into the mouth of a
lover, and back into the clouds to push them away. When I became
the wind, I became the height of a moving power that can never
be tamed, a wild movement that is free: free of weight, free of
measure, free of time.
When I became the wind, I realized how small and
helpless man is in his ignorance about himself and how great
he becomes when he extends himself into knowledge. I learned
that whatever man contemplates long enough, merely by desire
he will become. If man tells himself long enough that he is
wretched, soulless, powerless, he will believe it and become it.
If he calls himself lord of the wind, he will be lord of the
wind, as I became lord of the wind. And if he calls himself
God, he is going to become God.
Once I had learned these things, I began to teach my beloved
brothers about the Unknown God, the Source of all life. There
came a day when I was an old man, when all I had set out to
accomplish in my being had been accomplished. I made a journey
across the River Indus and there, on the side of the mountain
called Indus, I communed with all of my people for one hundred
and twenty days. I urged them to know that these understandings
were a truth, that the source of their divine guidance was not
through me or any other man but through the God that had
created us all. For their belief – and to their surprise – I elevated
myself quite nicely above them. Women screamed and became
aghast. Soldiers dropped their broadswords in wonderment. I
saluted them all farewell and urged them to learn as I had learned,
to become as I had become in their own way.
Through learning how to comprehend life elements that I
found more forceful than man – elements that I found more
intelligent than man, that live in a peaceful coexistence beside
and in spite of man – did I discover the Unknown God.
If you ask man, “How should I look? What should I believe
in? How should I live?” – if you do that, you will die. That is a
truth. Go and ask the wind: “Give me knowledge, wind. Open
me up and let me know,” and it will turn you from olive to silver
and take you into the hollows of the canyons and laugh with you
blatantly free.

I was most fortunate in being taught by life’s elements. The
sun never cursed me and the moon never said I must be a certain
way. And the elements never reflected failure to me. The frost
and the dew, the smell of grass, the insects going to and fro, the
cry of the nighthawk, they are all unfailing things whose essence
is simple. And a wonderful thing about them in their simplicity
and steadfastness, they asked nothing of me. The sun did not
look down and say, “Ramtha, you must worship me in order to
know me.” The moon did not look down and say, “Ramtha, wake
up. It is time to look upon my beauty.” They were there whenever
I looked to see them.
I learned from something that is constant, without
judgment, and easily understood if a man puts his mind to it.
Because of that, I was not at the hands of the altered thinking
of man with his hypocrisy, dogma, superstitious beliefs, and
multifaceted Gods that you must try to appease. That is why it
was easy for me to learn in one existence on this plane what
most have yet to understand because they look for God in
another man’s understanding. They look for God in
governmental rule, in church rule, in a history which they have
yet to question who wrote it or why it was written. Man has
based his beliefs, his understandings, his thought processes, his
lives on something that life after life after life has proven itself
a failure. Yet man, stumbling over his own altered thinking,
imprisoned by his own arrogance, continues the steadfast
hypocrisy that only leads to death.
After I ascended is when I knew everything I wanted to
know because I went out of the density of flesh and into the
fluidness of thought and, in so doing, I was not inhibited by
anything. Then I knew that man truly was, in his essence, God.
Before I ascended I did not know there was such a thing as a
soul, nor did I understand the mechanics of ascending the
embodiment. I only knew that I was at peace with what I had
done and I was at peace with life. I was no longer an ignorant
barbarian anxious for battle. I was no longer overwrought and
overworked. I embraced life and the wonderfulness that I saw in
the heavens day after day and night after night. That was my life.
I learned to love myself when I compared myself with
something great and majestic. My life became fulfilled when I
took hold of all my understanding and focused it on myself. That
is when peace came. That is when I began to know more. That is
when I became one with the Unknown God.

It was not the wind that I became but the ideal that the
wind represented to me. I am now the lord over it, for I became
the unseen principle that is free and omnipresent and one with
all life. It was when I became that principle that I understood the
Unknown God and all that it is – and all that it isn’t – because
that is what I wanted to understand. I found the answers within
me that allowed me to expand into a grander understanding.
I was Ram the Conqueror. I am now Ram the God. I was a
barbarian who became God through the simplest and yet the most
profound of things. What I teach you is what I learned.

OM, although indivisible consist of 3 letters and represents 4 states of consciousness:

A, U, M and the aftersound – anagata, represented by the dot placed above the letter M in Sanskrit.

• A sounded “Ah” is the beginning of every language, sounded from the throat.

Vaiswanara, the Self as the universal person in his physical being. Whosoever knows Vaiswanara obtains what he desires, and becomes the first among men.

• U sounded “Oo” from the palate. It corresponds to Taijasa, the Self as the universal person in his mental being. Taijasa and the letter U both stand in dream, between waking and sleeping. Whosoever knows Taijasa grows in wisdom, and is highly honoured.
• M sounded “Mng” sounded through closed lips and teeth. The third letter M corresponds to Prajna, the Self as the universal person in dreamless sleep. He is the origin and the end of all. Whosoever knows Prajna knows all things.
• After the audible sound ends there is still a vibration. It is the unspoken anagata that is always there before the beginning and after the end. The Self is OM, the indivisible syllable. This syllable is unutterable, and beyond mind. In it the manifold universe disappears. It is the supreme good – One without a second. Whosoever knows OM, the Self, becomes the Self.

The three letters as described above can also be compared to all aspects of the Trinities found in different philosophy or religions, for example:

• The 3 aspects existence: birth, life and death
• The 3 aspects of time: past, present, future
• The 3 gunas: tamas (inertia, darkness and ignorance), rajas (activity and passion) and sattva (light and love)
• The 3 state of consciousness: conscious, subconscious and unconscious or dreamless sleep.

The symbol of OM contains three curves, one semicircle and a dot. The large lower curve symbolizes the waking state; the upper curve denotes deep sleep (or the unconscious) state, and the lower curve (which lies between deep sleep and the waking state) signifies the dream state. These three states of an individual’s consciousness, and therefore the entire physical phenomenon, are represented by the three curves. The dot signifies the Absolute (fourth or Turiya state of consciousness), which illuminates the other three states. The semicircle symbolizes maya and separates the dot from the other three curves. The semicircle is open on the top, which means that the absolute is infinite and is not affected by maya. Maya only affects the manifested phenomenon. In this way the form of Om symbolizes the infinite Brahman and the entire Universe.

A quote from the Upanishads:

The essence of all beings is earth,
the essence of earth is water,
the essence of water are plants,
the essence of plants is man,
the essence of man is speech,
the essence of speech is sacred knowledge,
the essence of sacred knowledge is word and sound,
The essence of word and sound is Om.

The Power of Chanting Om

1. The chanting of Om drives away all worldly thoughts and removes distraction and infuses new vigour in the body.
2. When you feel depressed, chant Om fifty times and you will be filled with new vigour and strength. The chanting of Om is a powerful tonic. When you chant Om, you feel you are the pure, all pervading light and consciousness.
3. Those who chant Om will have a powerful, sweet voice. Whenever you take a stroll, you can chant Om. You can also sing Om in a beautiful way. The rythmic pronunciation of Om makes the mind serene and pointed, and infuses the spiritual qualifications which ensure self-realization.
4. Those who do meditation of Om daily will get tremendous power. They will have lustre in their eyes and faces.

Meditation on Om
Retire to a quite place, sit down, close your eyes and completely relax your muscles and nerves. Concentrate on the space between your eyebrows and quieten and silence the conscious mind. Begin to repeat “Om” mentally while associating the ideas of infinity, eternity, immortality, etc. You must repeat Om with the feeling that you are the infinite and all-pervading. Mere repetition of Om will not bring the desired result. Keep the meaning of Om always at heart. Feal Om. Feel that you are the pure, perfect, all-knowing, eternal, free, Brahman. Feel that you are absolute consciousness and the infinite, unchanging existance. Every part of your body should powerfully vibrate with these ideas. This feeling should be kept up all day long. Practice regularly and steadily with sincerity, faith, perseverance and enthusiasm in the morning, midday and evening.

source:

1. happyoga.com
2. experiencefestival.com
3. omsakthi.org

Amongst the mud of lust, there's always a lotus of love that blooms!

WHETHER SOMEBODY HATES YOU OR SOMEBODY LOVES YOU SHOULD NOT MAKE ANY DIFFERENCE IN YOU.

If you are, you remain the same. If you are not, then you are immediately changed. If you are not, then anybody can pull you, push you; then anybody can push your buttons and change you. Then you are a slave, then you are not a master. Your mastery begins when whatsoever happens outside does not change you; your inner climate remains the same.

A psychoanalyst was attending a convention. At one of the lectures one ugly woman sitting next to him began to pinch him. Annoyed, he was about to give her an angry retort, when he changed his mind: “Why should I get angry,” he decided. “After all, it is her problem.”
Whether somebody loves you or hates you, it is his or her problem. If you are, if you have understood your being, you remain in tune with yourself. Nobody can disturb your inner harmony. If somebody loves, good; if somebody hates, good. Both remain somewhere outside you. This is what we call mastery. This is what we call crystallization — becoming free of impressions, influences.
You ask me, “What do you do when somebody hates you?”

What can I do? It is that person’s problem; it has nothing to do with me. If I was not here he would have hated somebody else. He would have hated. If there were nobody and he were alone, he would have hated himself. Hatred is his problem. It has nothing to do with me, not in the least. Basically it does not even refer to me; I am just an excuse. Somebody else would have done as well, would have functioned as an excuse for him.

Have you not watched it? that when you are angry, you are simply angry. It is not that your anger is addressed to somebody. That ‘somebody’ is nothing but an excuse. Angry, you come home from the office; you jump on your wife. Angry, you go from your home; you are angry in the office with the peon, with the clerk, with this and that. If you analyze your states of mind, you will come to see that they belong to you. You live in your own world, but you go on projecting it on others.
When you are angry, YOU are angry — not at me. When you are full of hate, you are full of hate — not at me. When you are full of love, you are full of love — not at me. Once you understand it, you remain like a lotus leaf in the world. You remain in the water but the water does not touch; it touches you not.

You remain in the world and yet aloof, not of it. Then nobody can disturb your silence, and nobody can distract you. Your compassion goes on flowing. If you love me, you receive my compassion. If you hate me, you will not receive my compassion — not because I will not give to you. I will be continuously giving to you, as much as I give to those who love me, but you will be closed and you will not receive it.
Once being is attained, one is compassion, unconditional compassion. Not that in some moments he becomes compassionate and some moments he is not compassionate. Compassion then is his natural climate, compassion is his permanent mood, compassion is his integrated being. Then whatsoever you do, his compassion goes on showering on you. But there are moments when you will receive it, when you will be open, and there are moments when you will not receive it because you will be closed.

So in hate you will not receive that, in love you will receive that. And you may even feel the difference — because one who loves me will start growing, one who hates me will start shrinking. Both will become so totally different that you may start thinking that I must be giving more to the one I Love, or one who loves me, and I’m not giving to one who hates me or is angry at me or is closed towards me. But I am not doing that. The clouds are there and they are showering: if your pot is not broken it will be filled. Or even if your pot is not broken, but is upside-down, then you will miss. Hate is a state of upside-downness. Then rains can go on showering but you will remain empty, because your opening is not there.
Once you are put rightside-up, that’s what love is. Love is nothing but an opening, a receptivity, a welcome, an invitation, that “I am ready; come, please.”

- OSHO

I’ve been a huge fan of super hero movies: electrifying stunts, gadgets, speed et al, Be it the Transformers series, Batman, Spider Man (only the first, can’t imagine a super hero cry, cry for a girl. Duh!) and now Iron Man. Have been eagerly waiting for the sequel (it’s due on the 7th. May. 10) but until then for all you fans of the movie, here’s the trailer. If there’s something more that you want, check out the pictures [+]

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Once there was a king. He was a strong spiritualist, a dharmik. Whatever he said he did and whatever he did he said. One day the king declared that he would buy anything that remained unsold in the village market. People flocked to the market.

A sculptor brought an idol of the goddess Alakshmi, which negates wealth. Who would want to keep an idol of Alakshmi in their house? Nobody bought it. In the evening the sculptor came to the king and said: “Please take this idol and be true to your words.’’ The king bought it. Alakshmi entered the palace. At midnight the king heard a woman weeping. He approached her, asking, ‘‘Mother, why are you weeping? What is the matter?’’ ‘‘I am the goddess of wealth, Rajyalakshmi,’’ she replied. ‘‘Now that Alakshmi has entered the palace, how can i live here?’’ The king said, ‘‘Very well, for the protection of dharma i have to keep Alakshmi here. If you do not want to live here, you may go.’’ So the goddess of wealth left.

After some time the Raja heard the sound of footsteps. He saw a man and asked, ‘‘Who are you?’’ The reply was: ‘‘I am Narayana.’’ The king asked: ‘‘Where are you going?’’ Narayana replied: ‘‘Lakshmi has left the palace, so i shall not live here.’’ The king said, ‘‘To protect dharma, i have to keep Alakshmi, and so if you want to leave the palace, you may go; what can i do?’’ Narayana left. After that all the gods and goddesses left the palace. The king said, ‘‘If you all so desire you may go.’’ In the end a glorious personality appeared. ‘‘Who are you?’’ asked the king. The reply was ‘‘I am Dharmaraj, the king of dharma. As all the other gods and goddesses have left the palace, i am also leaving.’’ The king replied, ‘‘It cannot be. To protect dharma i kept Alakshmi. Oh Dharmaraj, how can you leave me?’’ Dharmaraj said, ‘‘You are right. I will not leave.’’

Since Dharma remained there, Narayana slowly entered through the back door. The king said to him, ‘‘If you wish you may come.’’ Lakshmi followed him, covering her face, because she did not dare to show her face to the king. Then all the gods and goddesses started entering. They said, ‘‘Where there is dharma, where there is Narayana and Lakshmi, we shall also go and remain.’’
Dharmabal is the biggest force. For those who have such a force, the worldly force is meaningless. You were with Dharma, you are with Dharma and you will be with Dharma. Don’t fear anybody. We should move on the path of Dharma even if Lakshmi leaves. Those who oppose Dharma will be destroyed.

There are three stages of people: Uttam or superior, madhyam or middle standard, adham or inferior. The adham people always think, “Can i do that great work, can i do? Shall i do? No, perhaps, i won’t be able to do great work.” They always avoid such work. The madhyam people come forward, associate themselves to do great work but when obstacles come, they dissociate themselves from the great work. The uttam people always participate in great work. Such people cannot come from the path of Dharma because there are impediments on that path. They will be victorious. So you must be adhere to Dharma. Victory is in your pocket. You shouldn’t cry for victory. You shouldn’t run after victory; rather victory will seek you out.

Excerpted from Anandavachanamritan.

You cannot do any good to anyone by torturing yourself – it is a crime – you have to decide your happiness is important than the pleasure you may give to someone by hurting yourself – you are the light of your life.

You pave the way to your destination and trust this light – trust is the answer – trust and let go.

Written by Mrs Manasi Sose on her blog. Her Work: My Centre India

When we enter this world, where does this “life” factor come from? Our breath? We are alive due to our breath. It means that we are connected to a phenomenon called “consciousness” through our breath. The consciousness is our source. That is, we have come from this consciousness state. It is a total state of joy and bliss, or it is pure LOVE. And only love is the truth of life, rest all is ego. To believe it, it is best to experience it. To experience it, it is best to meditate. When we meditate, we observe our breath. When we observe, we use minimum of our mind. Therefore, it is possible to go beyond the mind. Observing breath is the highest form of meditation.

In this state of consciousness, there is no space and no time. But it can be quite boring to be in a constant state of bliss. Therefore, we decided to create and enjoy our creation.

Imagine, we are in a huge desert, in a form of a ball and this ball is a total bliss. And imagine, there is no time nor space in this desert. Now this ball, is the consciousness. So, this ball decides to create and enjoy its creation. Therefore, this ball fragments into several forms and in order to enjoy, it creates several dimensions. It created this universe, where we live. The other dimensions maybe of numbers or colors or anything. In this universe, these fragments take forms of trees, water, mountains, humans, animals, birds, etc. We can call these fragments as souls. Here we can understand that WE ARE ALL ONE! We are that source, that consciousness.

The consciousness is in the form of energy. And it is the most subtle form of energy. Just like the steam. And like the water, the slightly gross form of this energy is the cosmic energy. And just like ice, the more gross form of energy is this universe, which we can relate to, through our senses.

Therefore, we can see that it was our choice to take the human form. It is one of the forms we have taken. We are playing this game of human life, to create and enjoy our creation and to experience. We go through all the experiences in our lives. This game of human life has two rules. One is that, we forget our source (the consciousness). Secondly, we have won the game by remembering what our source is!

Throughout our life, we have been discovering, inventing and searching for something…….what is it? We are never satisfied with all the materials we gain. We always want more of money, power, name, fame. But does it have an end? We are actually in search of our source, therefore, till we understand our source and feel that love, we go on and on endlessly! This explains why many rich and powerful people let go of their power and money when they find the real love.

After all, what do we live for? Only love?! Whatever we do ,is for achieving love. A militant, who takes lives of other people too, is in search of love. Somewhere, deep inside, he has been deprived of love. A man who wishes to earn money and power, wants others to love him or her for this money and power! A child throws tantrums only to seek the attention and love. There is nothing that we do not do for love. But we need to remember that this love is within ourselves and not outside of us.

When we observe the breath, we are in connection with our source. This source, has created the universe and millions of such dimensions. So imagine the potential it has? Or should I say, imagine the potential WE have? We only need to come out of the limitations and boundaries of this body and mind and connect to this unlimited potential, so that we can create a real heaven for ourselves on this earth!

Only love is real!

Written by Mrs Manasi Sose on her blog. Her Work: My Centre India

- Swami Sukhabodhananda in the Speaking Tree, a daily column seen in the Times of India.

• Nike : Just do it
• Tata Safari Dicor : The only thing that stops you is you.
• IBM ThinkPad : I think, therefore IBM (read I Am)
• Philips : Lets make things better (this was their punch line, now it’s Sense and Simplicity)
• Polaroid : We don’t have negatives
• ?? : Life is a game.
• CEAT : Born Tough
• HP-Invent : Everything is Possible
• Accenture : High Performance. Delivered
• Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose : Tum Mujhe Khoon Do, Main Tumhe Azaadi Doonga

Advertisers are deceivers ..because if they showed/spoke the truth, no one will buy what they sell.
eg. Bournvita, Maggi, etc

Photo Courtesy: Print Ad of The Speaking Tree (Times of India). Nirvana from Nirvana
Gratitude: Lazith Aziz’s blog | Bharavi’s blog

• A pair of spectacles can cheer you up. [+]
  

  A study of old aged residents in the US found that in many cases depression is linked to poor vision – and eyeglasses dramatically improved the quality of lives of users.

• Whales swallow enough soup to fill a school bus
  

  Scientists have discovered that while lunging twards krill and fish with an open mouth, a single fin whale can engulf up to 2,900 cubic feet of the ocean “soup”, which is almost equal to a large school bus.

*to be continued