<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408</id><updated>2009-10-14T05:28:51.071-07:00</updated><title type='text'>wheretonow</title><subtitle type='html'>"Two roads diverged in the wood, and I-
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference" (Robert Frost)

At least that is what I like to believe.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>26</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-7508420539764855163</id><published>2009-10-14T05:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T05:28:51.078-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange Dream</title><content type='html'>I recently had a strange dream. I was in an ancient haveli kind of structure, and there were many small temples inside that structure. Infact the whole place, not just the building, but the whole environment had holiness to it.  I could hear the prayer bells and smell the incense in my dream.  The morning rays of the sun were filtering in through huge ornate windows.  I was wearing some sort of holy costume. Slowly I walked towards one of the window. Outside the window, a small calf was buried in the ground, with only her head, her eyes and her nose exposed above the ground. What was most striking about the whole picture, were her eyes.  I have never in my life, in dream or in wakeful state seen such luminous black eyes.  The eyes were gentle, wise and reflected light.  I was mesmerized for a while by those eyes.  Then I panicked and jumped out of the window. I started digging around the calf with my bare hands to free her from the ground.  I kept on digging and digging for what seemed to be a while. During this the eyes kept on looking at me, and the more I dug, the larger the calf appeared then what I originally anticipated its size to be.  It was as if growing in size right in front of my eyes.  I kept on digging and then woke up.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t interpret what the dream meant. However it was very vivid and real. I got up and felt I was there.  Those luminous eyes have stayed with me since, a reminder of a world that may have been my past, or my future perhaps? Or another world? I often wonder about dreams… sometimes I see faces and places that I have never seen in this lifetime.  I wonder about their relevance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-7508420539764855163?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/7508420539764855163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=7508420539764855163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/7508420539764855163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/7508420539764855163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2009/10/strange-dream.html' title='Strange Dream'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-915641489882904495</id><published>2009-09-29T23:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T23:22:55.612-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Picture in picture</title><content type='html'>“Hold it little close to you, just at the right distance, and all you need to do is look at your own reflection. Slowly the real picture will emerge and once you can see it you will never loose it. When you move your eyes away from the picture you may momentarily loose it but the moment you change the way you look at it, the real picture will emerge again. Once found you never loose it, even when you think you have.”  As I was uttering these words it almost seemed like I was dispensing Self knowledge. Actually my love was squinting her eyes trying to see the pictures in the one of those autostereogram. It was very endearing to watch her efforts and persistence. And on seeing the real picture- her awe and her joy.  She kept going back to the picture many times during the day and the following week.  Reflecting back on my words I was amazed at the profoundness of them. ‘Once found you never really loose the real picture even when you think you have.’&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-915641489882904495?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/915641489882904495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=915641489882904495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/915641489882904495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/915641489882904495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2009/09/picture-in-picture.html' title='Picture in picture'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-6243791413329757844</id><published>2009-08-09T17:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T17:58:31.548-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A little shift (poem)</title><content type='html'>I wanted to write that &lt;br /&gt;the sleep was hard to come by&lt;br /&gt;with many moments spent awake&lt;br /&gt;and yet when I slept&lt;br /&gt;I slept so long, so deep and long&lt;br /&gt;and while I slept&lt;br /&gt;the pieces moved just little bit on the plane&lt;br /&gt;maintaining the delicate balance &lt;br /&gt;the whole is the same and&lt;br /&gt;nothing has changed &lt;br /&gt;yet everything has shifted in perfect dance&lt;br /&gt;wanted to write to let you know &lt;br /&gt;I am alive&lt;br /&gt;more alive then ever before&lt;br /&gt;cradled and nestled in life's palm&lt;br /&gt;engulfed by peace in my core&lt;br /&gt;the colors are vivid, the trees more alive&lt;br /&gt;my saints in meditation &lt;br /&gt;maintaining life&lt;br /&gt;a little shift, a subtle pace&lt;br /&gt;a gentle humming &lt;br /&gt;accompanied by grace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- nee&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-6243791413329757844?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/6243791413329757844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=6243791413329757844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/6243791413329757844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/6243791413329757844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2009/08/little-shift-poem.html' title='A little shift (poem)'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-7776616225925329643</id><published>2009-07-28T20:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T20:27:34.364-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Earth</title><content type='html'>I am not sure how people arrive to conclusions or how realizations dawn on them, but in my case, I am always surprised when an understanding 'suddenly' dawns on me.. let me clarify the quotes- I mull and dwell, then forget, then mull some more and then forget and after few such cycles, the realization suddenly dawns upon me... like a cool, fragrant mist. I have always been at greater peace in the nature. On my regular walks I am always enthralled by the trees, their shapes, their rich colors, the blue sky and all the lovely elements that form the landscape of my walk. On this particular walk, I was suddenly startled by the fact how alive our Earth is, I mean, I truly understood why they call Earth a live planet. Everything, the breeze is constantly moving, the sky is changing, the leaves, birds, the insects, the water, even the dirt. It is full of life. And then I started to think of the spaces that were completely void of life and I could not think of any. I have in my entire life never been to a place that is void of life. Even in a small patch of mud in a concrete jungle 'life finds a way' (Jurassic Park 2). And I was amazed how I never noticed this before. But this realization has changed the way I look at my life, and my role in this whole equation. I am constantly surrounded by change, by motion, by the circle of life. All these miracles have always been there but I had been so preoccupied with me, myself and ME that I never noticed it. I am now like a person back from the death, a person who wants to gather the beauty of every moment with both the hands and make up for all the lost time. I mean look at the rainbow- what is the purpose of the rainbow and the fireflies... I mean the fireflies did not have to be like the fireflies, but they could have been ordinary flies, and ordinary flies could have been completely drab and dull instead of possessing beautiful wings with sheen of black and cobalt and flecks of gold. The evolution of life could all have been very ordinary and guess what we all would have been OK with it because we would not have known any better. But the fact is IT IS NOT. Everything I see around is extraordinary. Everything in this nature is little better then it needs to be. Enchanting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-7776616225925329643?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/7776616225925329643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=7776616225925329643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/7776616225925329643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/7776616225925329643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2009/07/earth.html' title='Earth'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-381659236018595235</id><published>2009-07-16T17:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T17:52:02.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One knot undone</title><content type='html'>I debated whether I should write this or not, but since this is to be journal of ‘my journey', here I am- I finally resolved, gained an understanding of the ONENESS.  There are still some dark corners, some entangled knots, but I now know ONENESS.  And the strange thing is, this was so simple along. It is so easy to understand and grasp and live and yet all these years the barriers were my own.  It is as if a curtain has lifted. As simple as that.  Conceptually I knew this but did not understand and now I do.  And I am like a pregnant woman, who carries this precious gift, but cannot explain, who feels the aches and pains and yet is blissful, who with the morning nausea experiences a complete and total serenity of being a part of this creation, who sometimes doubts her own ability to carry this truth within her and then laughs at herself for knowing that this experience is not in her control, that the precious gift is growing, stretching, turning and waiting, on its own, and all she can do is provide a nurturing environment. And even in its absence it will grow the way it is meant to. That is all I can write, and this is all I can explain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-381659236018595235?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/381659236018595235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=381659236018595235' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/381659236018595235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/381659236018595235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2009/07/one-knot-undone.html' title='One knot undone'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-8389708587403181264</id><published>2009-07-16T17:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T17:49:25.439-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Words again</title><content type='html'>You said my friend ‘But words is all we have’ and I agree. I totally agree. In absence of everything else, words are all we have.  And please do not misunderstand me when I say they are inefficient. I am not belittling them. All I am saying is that are inefficient in conveying the exact and the total meaning of any emotion.  You can only relatively explain with words what you feel. Not totally and completely. E.g. I can explain my loss to you with words and you will understand it and relate it to your idea of loss based on your experiences, your environment and your intellect, which may be similar or completely different then mine, in which case you will never understand the nuances of my experience.  Therefore the saying, ‘put yourself in other’s shoes’, you really have to put yourself in another shoe, in his/her background, understanding and intellect.  Your perception of the world will never be same as mine, it can be similar, but not the same and therefore, my passions cannot be yours, my reasons may not be yours.  I think this is when Truth matters, for Truth is same for all. It withstands backgrounds and cultural barriers and upbringings.  Truth is truth and complete. And this find amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-8389708587403181264?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/8389708587403181264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=8389708587403181264' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/8389708587403181264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/8389708587403181264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2009/07/words-again.html' title='Words again'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-6358744105751925356</id><published>2009-07-08T19:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T19:58:10.875-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Words</title><content type='html'>Isn't it amazing that the words though beautiful are not very efficient?  Words can communicate the thoughts and day to day bearings, but I think words fall short in doing the justice to the experiences. For example how does one explain the beautiful experience of being pregnant?  You can use all the words that you want but unless the woman is pregnant she will never know what it s to be pregnant.  Same thing for love, how can you explain love, or pain, or loss.  How do you explain peace or yearning? Words can at the best communicate what it 'feels' like, but the feeling has to be experienced, to be understood, to be breathed and lived to be fully grasped.  I think words fall short here. I think that is the difference between knowledge and wisdom.  I can be knowledgeable by reading books or by conversing with people more knowledgeable then myself, but wisdom? A wise man is a person who has experienced the knowledge, breathed it, lived it, made his own.  And then any words that person might want to use will just fall short of explaining the experience.  I think that as why as people grow more wise they can more silent. Because they know that what they feel cannot be communicated with the words. Then the eyes speak, the smile speaks, the gait speaks. The entire being of that wise person speaks.  I just find this fascinating.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-6358744105751925356?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/6358744105751925356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=6358744105751925356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/6358744105751925356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/6358744105751925356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2009/07/words.html' title='Words'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-8626678198082923433</id><published>2009-07-08T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T19:31:42.371-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lake Mauch Chunk</title><content type='html'>It was very chilly in the night, more the reason for a campfire. In the morning, a transparent mist hung over the green waters of the lake while the morning rays of the sun gently warmed and cajoled the surrounding into waking up to another beautiful day. &lt;br /&gt;Mauch Chunk Lake is a beautiful place. The lake is surrounded by a park which competes with the lake in its beauty. It truly is a picture postcard. I kept this memory close to my heart since then. This year, as the moon shone on the silent, deep lake, and the silver gentle waves reached my feet I saved another memory. The lake had so much to offer by just being there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-8626678198082923433?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/8626678198082923433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=8626678198082923433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/8626678198082923433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/8626678198082923433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2009/07/lake-mauch-chunk.html' title='Lake Mauch Chunk'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-8934866300260415506</id><published>2009-07-02T13:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T13:28:30.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ego</title><content type='html'>Admist my tears, through misty eyes&lt;br /&gt;I met someone tonight&lt;br /&gt;He looked like me and talked like me&lt;br /&gt;He even walked like me&lt;br /&gt;He looked very familiar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I continued to cry and look around,&lt;br /&gt;Trying to find someone to blame,&lt;br /&gt;He laughed aloud, he mocked &lt;br /&gt;‘Ha ha…., I got you again…’&lt;br /&gt;With victory in his eyes, a smile on his face, &lt;br /&gt;He spoke in engaging voice, he said&lt;br /&gt;‘You will not get rid of me, &lt;br /&gt;Not this easily, I am here to stay’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘This was my win, there will be many more, my dear&lt;br /&gt;Here hold on to your precious tears…for&lt;br /&gt;I have known you all your life, better then you know yourself&lt;br /&gt;Your strengths, your weakness &lt;br /&gt;I am closer to you then breath itself&lt;br /&gt;You have lived through me and I through you&lt;br /&gt;We had fun, you know&lt;br /&gt;Without me you cease to exists, &lt;br /&gt;For I am your ego’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with that, he turned his back &lt;br /&gt;And disappeared as swiftly as he had come&lt;br /&gt;I sat down defeated, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Nee (2002)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I begin a new decade, I am dedicating some part of this year to looking part and questioning – have I covered any distance? What are these mile markers saying? So shifting through some old pages I came across some poems(?) I had written and these poems talk about where I had pitched my tent for that moment. The next few posts will be that- looking back, looking back at the decade in which my very being turned upside-down, inside-out. And my loved ones who stood by me, loving me through it all, watching me breakdown, wandering if there was a light at the end of the tunnel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a long time when I was struggling with emotions. Time when I did not know why the world was coming down, crashing every day.  When I would question my existence and the existence of the world.  Frustrated at not knowing, not understanding and not knowing where to turn, I would throw myself into the chaos and confusion.  I was there for a long time. I am grateful, now I am found.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have learnt that when you understand disillusion as disillusion and you accept it for what it is, when you see and understand that blue was always blue and will always be blue… when you finally accept that you are a part of this universe and that your purpose is to BE, to be &lt;strong&gt;completely &lt;/strong&gt;here, that your ego is here for a purpose and that you cannot obliterate (strong word- but that is what I thought one had to do) it, but understand it, to know at all the time that its existence is to serve you and the greater purpose.  During my struggles I was looking for a way to escape this ego of mine. Time has taught me to befriend it. This is not a relationship can be won by a war, rather it has to be won over by diplomacy. And diplomacy by its nature is a delicate balance. I remain alert and am vigilant.  There are many miles to walk, but I am not in hurry. I stop when I see an enchanting scene, a river or a hill. With the turn of decade I think I have arrived where I was meant to be. Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-8934866300260415506?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/8934866300260415506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=8934866300260415506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/8934866300260415506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/8934866300260415506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2009/07/ego.html' title='Ego'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-7749082039312918687</id><published>2009-05-13T22:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T22:35:10.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Joy (poem)</title><content type='html'>There are moments when I feel my heart has expanded to encompass the whole world. There are moments of completeness. I feel that my heart here accepts everything that this moment has offered and my eyes overflow. I offer my thanks. I am grateful for this joyous experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One foot in front of the other&lt;br /&gt;Hands raised to the skies&lt;br /&gt;The rain too is crazy &lt;br /&gt;Moving, dancing by my side&lt;br /&gt;Here we tango, here we salsa&lt;br /&gt;Without touching the ground&lt;br /&gt;Unable to contain ourselves&lt;br /&gt;No shyness or sideway glance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep in the valleys&lt;br /&gt;With laughter trailing behind&lt;br /&gt;Runs the river with colors &lt;br /&gt;Stealing the diamonds from the skies&lt;br /&gt;Teasing the shiny sun&lt;br /&gt;We run hand in hand &lt;br /&gt;Unable to contain ourselves&lt;br /&gt;On the fresh, dewy land&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our ears to the earth&lt;br /&gt;Feet taping to distant music&lt;br /&gt;The sound of bare feet dancing&lt;br /&gt;Fingers drumming the humming air&lt;br /&gt;Singing in unison &lt;br /&gt;With the birds, streams and waterfalls&lt;br /&gt;O full of love, we are flowing&lt;br /&gt;Unable to contain ourselves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Nee&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-7749082039312918687?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/7749082039312918687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=7749082039312918687' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/7749082039312918687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/7749082039312918687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2009/05/joy-poem.html' title='Joy (poem)'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-646959027659460182</id><published>2009-04-14T18:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T19:10:33.601-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Next Chapter</title><content type='html'>I got introduced to a monk.  A Buddhist monk. I have always respected men and women clothed in the garb that indicated their inclination to the higher spirit. My head always bowed in reverence.  It did not matter how far they were on that journey. It has always been enough that they are walking on the path, which to me, is many times hard, tedious, slow and lonely. For there are dark nights when there is no answer to the calls, and try as one may, there is no indication of any existence beyond what can be sensed by the five senses. How does one get through these nights of loneliness, of despair? On faith alone? And what if the faith fails too?  The one you have loved, worshipped, given the reins of your soul to, fails you?  Then what? That is what I am finding out.. the loss of faith, the loss of love and the loss of worship. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here and now begins the next phase of my journey. As I make peace with the loss, I must still keep the faith on the larger and higher spirit and the purpose. And keep my heart open- open to the words, thoughts, and men and women of that inclination.  For there is chance that I may still touch the omnipotent, the omnipresent, the eternity. As I disentangle myself from previous engagements, wary, I have begun again. To find that one glimpse of perfection.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-646959027659460182?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/646959027659460182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=646959027659460182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/646959027659460182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/646959027659460182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2009/04/next-chapter.html' title='Next Chapter'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-7182150945728798906</id><published>2009-02-20T01:43:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T02:01:16.435-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Window</title><content type='html'>Since last 9 monthe I have been waking up between 2:30 and 3:30 a.m. And with that would begin my struggle to fall asleep. The first few months I just didn't get it. Then one month into it, I started being thankful for the peace and quiet. I started to meditate. The meditation itself lasted for about 20-25 mins after which I would fall asleep. Not a peaceful,deep sleep but a closed eyes, snoring sleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since last one month meditation has not been working as well. One thing I am now tuned to is, whenever there is discomfort, it is time to change. To move from the position of discomfort. It means what I had been doing so far is no longer working. So, as I was lying in the bed counting my breath, and internalizing my mantra, wondering what next- I realised - all the years I wanted to write or wished I could write, I had complained about the lack of space and time that was my own. My own corner in the room, the tree in the garden, my own bubble. And here it was - life was handing it to me - my very own bubble- untouched and unseen from the world. This window when the night slipped away into dawn, the window when the wise woke up to invoke the divinity, when the universe was just getting ready to borne another beautiful day, this tender, sweet, fragile, fragrant window of possibilities was mine. My window to delve deep into my soul- to breath, the write, to be. So here I am, enclosed and engulfed and blessed to be awake.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-7182150945728798906?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/7182150945728798906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=7182150945728798906' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/7182150945728798906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/7182150945728798906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-window.html' title='My Window'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-5635448536676907097</id><published>2009-02-14T08:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T09:02:42.931-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tango</title><content type='html'>Learning to Tango again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-5635448536676907097?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/5635448536676907097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=5635448536676907097' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/5635448536676907097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/5635448536676907097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2009/02/tango.html' title='Tango'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-3377289754333825610</id><published>2009-02-01T18:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T18:59:22.230-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You and Me</title><content type='html'>Sushi. Simon and Garfunkel. Yosemite. Vulnerability. Happiness. Joy. Adventure. Prithvi. Paris. Angels. You have introduced me to so many new and wonderful things in my life.  I am a better person for it.  There are so many things that we still have to discover, so venues to explore. Many wonderful dreams to fulfill. And as I walk with you, one step at a time, with love in my heart and dreams in my head, as I hold your hand I promise to be with you all the way.  I promise to color your dreams more vividly, to sing the song to the same music. To watch your back and to love you for who you really are. I am grateful for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-3377289754333825610?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/3377289754333825610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=3377289754333825610' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/3377289754333825610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/3377289754333825610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2009/02/you-and-me.html' title='You and Me'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-7471648497135420965</id><published>2009-01-22T18:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T18:42:47.911-08:00</updated><title type='text'>where is peace?</title><content type='html'>'What is peace and where can I find it?' I was asking myself at 2 am last night.  As I was slicing and dicing through the maze in my head for an answer, I realized that my thoughts by themselves are nothing more then fluttering leaves. The fun begins when my emotions become the breeze that carry them around, swirl them and raise mini twisters in my mind. Thoughts by themselves are harmless except they create a constant cacophony in my mind. Which brings me to the next question 'Would absence of thoughts bring peace? Where do they originate from? Can I get to the moment of their birth and pick and choose which ones I really want to nurture?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually become conscious of them when they are almost teenagers causing me a headache and heartache, at which point I have nowhere else to go but to look heavenwards and offer a prayer. Sometimes I get lucky and become aware of them when they are toddlers throwing tantrums, but I can still calm them down and bring the situation under control. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are phases when my mind is perfectly tranquil and there then there are times when there is so much drama in my mind that I could entertain this continent and next. And it is as times like this I wake up at 2 am in the night and ask 'What is peace and where can I find it?'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-7471648497135420965?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/7471648497135420965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=7471648497135420965' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/7471648497135420965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/7471648497135420965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2009/01/where-is-peace.html' title='where is peace?'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-3722128199559357642</id><published>2009-01-15T17:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T17:17:30.116-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Alignment</title><content type='html'>I have realized that whenever I am out of alignment I am disturbed.  So what is my alignment or core? My core is basically complete truth.  Complete truth in mind and body.  This translates to no hidden agenda from &lt;em&gt;myself&lt;/em&gt; in all my thoughts and actions.  The minute I waver from this I get disturbed. I reached this conclusion after my week long experiment. Knowing what I know, I was still disturbed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me go even a step beyond and ask where does my alignment come from?  Does it come from my belief in my concepts, that absolute purity is the required state for peace or is this alignment universally true? I mulled over this question last couple of days and am reaching a conclusion that if the alignment is true it will forward me on the path to my goal of ultimate peace, else it will take me away from it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spend many years analyzing and questioning the goal itself. Ultimate deep peace is what I find worth striving for in this life time. How do I know for sure, well that is where I am at complete peace with myself and the universe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-3722128199559357642?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/3722128199559357642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=3722128199559357642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/3722128199559357642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/3722128199559357642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-alignment.html' title='My Alignment'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-5624340624584778455</id><published>2009-01-13T19:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T20:11:14.499-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost</title><content type='html'>I have not been sleeping very well since many nights.  I usually wake up with fear or pain, my throat dried and my heart racing.  I have been trying to meditate but even those few moments of peace have been eluding me. The paradise is lost.  I feel I have been slapped back to reality from the happiness zone I have living in since last few months.  There is again that restlessness and an irrational irritation constantly tugging at my heeart.  I have started praying again. And praying hard.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am forgetting the way to my peace mountain.  I am getting lost again. &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"So here I am with all that I am, with some luggage in tow, &lt;br /&gt;With a map that I don’t understand, a little lost, and a knowing that I don’t know"&lt;/em&gt; - 1/13/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I doing wrong? What am I doing different since last 2 weeks to cause this imbalance? When I sit to meditate my mind races in all directions. I can no longer see myself in the clear, still pool of my mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-5624340624584778455?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/5624340624584778455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=5624340624584778455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/5624340624584778455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/5624340624584778455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2009/01/lost.html' title='Lost'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-6588086678421815231</id><published>2008-12-29T20:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T21:26:01.918-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Desires</title><content type='html'>My life today is a direct result of my desires which are manifesting over a period of time in an order that someone somewhere deems right. Growing up I was afraid that my life would be very uneventful and very boring, so I prayed for an interesting, engaging life. I remember that I had asked for a life which was like one of the movies where the protagonist is happy, sad, conflicted, tormented and then there is a happy ending. And yes, my life has been full of drama and events so much so that all I have desired since last couple of years and especially last year, earnestly, is a Zen movie.  A life of quiet, peace and joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does the desire for internal growth always come after pain and conflict? Do you think a person, completely happy, materially and emotionally, open his eyes, stare at the ceiling while the morning sunshine cascades through the drapes, and with the smile on his lips say 'I am going to find out who I really am' ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of my fellow travelers on this inner journey have been beaten badly, bent out of shape before they dragged themselves on this road.  Most of them have resisted, begged, and tried to wiggle their way out, but have been defeated and left with no other option. They all started on this road, dragging their feet at first and then eventually picking up the pace and now I feel some of us are ready to run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as this year ends, here it is, to my fellow travelers, who have partied year after year on the New Year’s Eve, drunk and little spaced, but this year desiring to end this year on a different note, with peace and quiet and joy to the world. May 2009 really give you wings, no really.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-6588086678421815231?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/6588086678421815231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=6588086678421815231' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/6588086678421815231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/6588086678421815231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2008/12/desires.html' title='Desires'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-7644750305490294275</id><published>2008-12-25T15:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T15:46:40.430-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Friend</title><content type='html'>My Friend called me yesterday and said that she was not ready to cross the line. Yes, the same line that I mentioned earlier.  She said 'What then is the purpose of life?' A good question.  She said 'I want to be happy, I want to be sad, I want to want things and feel the joy of winning and sadness of losing'.  So I said to her that that was absolutely fine. There was no need for her to cross the line.  Not yet anyways.  Most of us cross the line only when all the other roads lead to dead end.  And this is too is a realization hard to come by.  And when it comes, there is no other road to embark upon but to take that leap.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have observed that most of the unhappiness in a life is because you are out of alignment with who you truly are and meant to be.  A small example would be to choose a job or a profession which does not align with your passion. This relatively small misalignment can cause so much misery, then imagine the misery that is born out of living day in day out being someone other then what you are meant to be.  And being yourself has nothing to do with the job you have or the roles you play in everyday life.  It is beyond that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is wonderful in that it hands out these realizations in small doses.  Small doses that keep you going and saying 'ah ha.. so this is what it means...'. It makes this journey so joyful. Every day you grow some more and grasp some more of the life and its wonders.  The blue skies, the golden sun, the white sands, the aqua marine waters, the peaceful mountains, the meditating trees, singing birds, growing children. I could go on and on listing the pleasures of this journey. So I just smile when my friend says not yet, because right now I am just happy that she knows that there is that line.  And once you know, you cannot NOT know.  So sooner or later she will get there. Sooner or later she too will stop wondering and start believing. And that too will be a day to celerbrate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-7644750305490294275?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/7644750305490294275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=7644750305490294275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/7644750305490294275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/7644750305490294275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-friend.html' title='My Friend'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-2314790816859444531</id><published>2008-12-25T15:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T15:19:34.728-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Present in Present</title><content type='html'>They say living in present is the key to one’s life, growth and peace.  It is therefore a path to attain the highest wisdom.  If you are present in present then you gain insight into what and hows of every question that has haunted you on this path.  Per my practice, living in present, is one of the most difficult thing to do.  It is tricky, just when you think that you know how to get to present you are transported to another tense.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I initially started getting the glimpse into present when I started doing yoga more regularly, when unknowingly I started to monitor my breath and my body.  And as the knots in my muscles started to melt so did the tension in my mind.  I finished most of my yoga sessions feeling at peace, calmer then when I started.  I had unknowingly tapped into present.  As I started to understand this new tense, I realized I living had been living in a doped state of my mind for most of my life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have started allocating time just to think, so that it does not interfere with my living in present.  My monkey mind is protesting with all its might but I guess sooner or later it will relent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-2314790816859444531?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/2314790816859444531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=2314790816859444531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/2314790816859444531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/2314790816859444531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2008/12/present-in-present.html' title='Present in Present'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-2288474700227358757</id><published>2008-12-24T06:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T06:14:12.470-08:00</updated><title type='text'>getting there -one step at a time</title><content type='html'>Writing. Thinking, Reflecting. Drowsy. Walking. Anger. Irritated. Reflecting. Meeting. Intending. Chewing. Swallowing…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well this is what I have been up to.  Started this crazy ‘name the thought’ process.  Similar to Vipaasana. And I say similar because I do not have what it takes to do Vipaasana at this point in life. Ten days of austerity. Maybe I could manage to wrangle the ten days out of my very busy and happening life (being sarcastic here).. but the desire is not there yet…so I thought let me try this.. One of the basic techniques in Vipaasana is naming the thoughts, watching and naming them, not judging just observing…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And goodness, my mind is one very very busy place… very busy..  it gets creative with the stories, most of which are mundane.. I wonder can how I could have lived all these years with a mind like this, which constantly conjures up one thought after another, one image after another. It has been an eye opener…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this morning I decided let me meditate. I got up at 5 a.m. willed myself out of the bed, washed my face, all the while cheering myself and giving myself a pep talk -’yes I can do this’ and sat cross legged without slouching… and I sat and told myself I have 2 hours before the day begins so take your time to get into the groove.. so I met people and did things and went places and successfully completed a challenging project and received accolades and in between all these managed few moments of quite, even breathing… and when I open my eyes it was 1 hr since I had sat cross legged.. Then I did math -if I had spent 40 minutes wandering the wonderland, at least 20 mins I was in communion with my goal..at least 20 mins I really was present… and I will rejoice in that victory today..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-2288474700227358757?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/2288474700227358757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=2288474700227358757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/2288474700227358757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/2288474700227358757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2008/12/getting-there-one-step-at-time.html' title='getting there -one step at a time'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-3669290525730584854</id><published>2008-11-27T07:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T07:29:41.097-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a line crossed</title><content type='html'>I think there comes a point in life when you make a conscious choice to crossover. To start on the all encompassing journey into oneself.  It may not happen in this lifetime but somewhere along the way, it happens.  The time has to be right. And once one embarks on it, it is like sitting in a broken carriage that is going along its merry way on the tracks that lead to unknown. In the broken carriage you have no control- like in those Indiana Jones movies- you literally have no control.. you surrender to the bumps and the speed and leisure. And then after freaking out for few miles you decide to sit back and enjoy the ride.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the time I stepped onto the other side and remember the initial struggles for the control and the occasional meltdown that still happens – happens when I try to steer the carriage, manipulate the speed… but it is occasional and thank God for it. And once you sit back you notice every bump, every precarious curve.. and maybe even enjoy it as your adrenaline rushes with the carriage.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are days of complete silence, and there are days of complete chaos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-3669290525730584854?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/3669290525730584854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=3669290525730584854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/3669290525730584854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/3669290525730584854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2008/11/line-crossed.html' title='a line crossed'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-7601778337702860869</id><published>2008-11-26T20:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T20:42:37.965-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a moment in time or shall we say space?</title><content type='html'>Being me? (written 6/18/08)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That we must take of what we can from this life&lt;br /&gt;For what is absent I can write volumes about&lt;br /&gt;To fill in the holes gaping wide&lt;br /&gt;Of all that the heart desired and wasted sighs&lt;br /&gt;Does it matter then I be great&lt;br /&gt;For in my being great was my abstinence&lt;br /&gt;Forced upon my being with hand of fate&lt;br /&gt;When I would rather be wanton and wild&lt;br /&gt;To inspire and rise, to shine galore&lt;br /&gt;Was hardly a dream I aspired to, my friend&lt;br /&gt;I would have been happy to be in the dark&lt;br /&gt;and be, be with a myself, a mundane, tedious, trivial bore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but then how could I be that when these moments of perfections sneak upon me…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moments of perfection – when the feeling that this is where I am supposed to be and this is perfect, this is my life and this is it and I am happy.. I am happy with what and who I am.. A moment that I pull over myself, wear it, breathe it, sing it. And then learn a way to recreate it again and again.  But moments like these cannot be created, cannot be created by thoughts, books or conversations.  Moment like this happen, when everything falls in place.. just like it is supposed to, as if a hand had written the destiny long ago about this place, about this time and about me being at this intersection.   This magic happens and wonder of wonder, it happens when least expected, with only one condition that needs to be present – which is, I need to be present in the present.  I need to be there when it happens …&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-7601778337702860869?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/7601778337702860869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=7601778337702860869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/7601778337702860869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/7601778337702860869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2008/11/moment-in-time-or-shall-we-say-space.html' title='a moment in time or shall we say space?'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-8535293999137557388</id><published>2008-11-20T18:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T18:19:09.925-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Had Pray Moment Yesterday..</title><content type='html'>Had a Pray moment last night- from Eat, Pray, Love.  It was 12 in the night and I was desparately crying, not on the bathroom floor but on the bed... except the location and the person everything else was same.. the emotions and the intensity.. and the desperation.  What more and how can I move forward?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been getting better every week, every day since last 1 year but there are couple of days in the month when I amount to nothing and all the light, the trees, the golden leaves melt away.. I am standing at the edge of a bottomless pit.. and then as I look in the darkness I wonder why and when this will end... why even couple of day in a month should I be shredded this cruelly... and this has nothing to do with my hormones.. for this happens not at that time of the month or any particular time of the month... it waits, wathces and then it just comes... and then it is gone... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I eventually slept, little peaceful.. hoping for a dream and some sanity.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up fine and whole, wonderfull.. And I marked my calendar.. then till next month I shall live, breathe this wonderful life again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-8535293999137557388?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/8535293999137557388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=8535293999137557388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/8535293999137557388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/8535293999137557388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2008/11/had-pray-moment-yesterday.html' title='Had Pray Moment Yesterday..'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1071091666527081408.post-4377793395560010059</id><published>2008-11-20T18:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T18:08:46.166-08:00</updated><title type='text'>so changed my Sebring</title><content type='html'>to another convertible. Sebring gave me love for wind and trees whizing above my heead. My Sebring died. It was old and falling and then it died. So I buried it and started all over again, taking my love for all the things that Sebring had brought to my life I moved on.. to another convertible and another road.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1071091666527081408-4377793395560010059?l=wheretonow.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/feeds/4377793395560010059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1071091666527081408&amp;postID=4377793395560010059' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/4377793395560010059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1071091666527081408/posts/default/4377793395560010059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheretonow.blogspot.com/2008/11/so-changed-my-sebring.html' title='so changed my Sebring'/><author><name>Anya</name><email>aglaead@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16127684114506368415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry></feed>