I surprise myself every now and then. The things I have attracted in to my life are wonderful. Yet, I chose a rebirth in a country hostile to my nature. They called me Hindu. I had to try Spiritual. What I was, was in the past; and I choose words now. Describing myself with hopes ahead of me, I find one of them is to expand the literary process and encourage any and all and sundry to contribute to the written act, even if it is not their own hands but someone else’s, like their child, or to use free time more constructively.

Watching a good video or even seeing a film can take on new meaning when writing is contemplated. Addressing the breadth of the term “Spiritual” is an ongoing thing and I am not alone in that. But that is a privilege of wealth: And that does not mean there is a bad person just because they are Idiosyncratic or unusual. Life is not about being an individual; It happened. And along the way that can be the cause of hurt and embarrassment. Maybe, a spiritual struggle is going on to reclaim parts of ourselves that are tired and crying out for a rest..?

The premise I am going to attempt on Elephant Journal is to refashion any glibness from my solitary blog success (the potential victim subject of censorship) o breathe new life into the many meanings Yoga has. Of course I have Hatha Yoga experience. I am now out of Full Lotus Posture, in case I got lost in a cruel world and retreated as a recluse.

People should know that their favourite J D Salinger of ‘A Catcher in the Rye’ acclaim and future notoriety retired from the world and become isolated and never went out. His meeting with Swami Vivekananda is to be researched for a deeper significance, one day, though some shut “the doors of perception” (William Blake) on questioning mythical Gurus.

When the word ‘Guru’ means ‘Maharaja’ in some Thesaurus, I am not bowing down before an Indian.

I knew the word “Yoga” to mean “Union with God”.

I had woken up to a soul inside my body years before I punctured my ear with a YinYang earing to get a plaster and verbal warning from my Grammar School at 15. Reading profusely was all I had with divorced parents and not much money to chase girls who were being fed Western Racialisms  and drinking Hooch and Alcho-Pops. So I wasn’t one to bow down before Dan Millman’s Pop, Socrates, when he was thrown at me 20 years after I left school, by someone I used to study besides. He insulted my life by measuring me against ‘The Way of The Peaceful Warrior’ and looked down at me using a common Hindu Mandir from our birth.

I maintained and humanely reviewed whatever principles arose in my head and practiced non-didactic Compassion, Love, Respect and Diligence while completing academic rigours to prove the God in my life as much wrong as He was right. My heart was out of wack with the wrong sort of Women, World and, probably, St John’s Wort vs Wineries given my undergraduate career choice as a Solicitor in The City of he Corporation of London and maybe that is what we can continue with the no conclusion approach to mind and consciousness that Jiddu Krishnamurti succeeded heroically with standing up to ‘One Coloured man with a plan and he is Hero-Worship’ in his own way.

When The Spirit came along in c.2017 after I warred again against Institution for me, my family and our names; I remembered that a Rishi was granted special access to “see things” under the same Oxford Dictionary. And the fighting continues, with America online and my attempt to respect Oxford’s 2 essays a week with regular long opinion and evidence for authors and readers to get involved with me now on Elephant Journal.

Jesus contested “though seeing you cannot see” through The Gospel Witers and isn’t that how it all began, from the first place; to challenge perception with an understanding of boundaries. And this time I am not even going to try, on the budget I have lived on, to not be a wolf in sheep’s clothing. It would not be ethical to see anything else as a Yogi and an Old Soul, these days.

Namaste.