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Sri Chinmoy's students describe their inner and outer experiences.
I was what you call a classic unconscious seeker
Rupantar LaRusso New York, United States
How my spiritual search led me to Sri Chinmoy
Vidura Groulx Montreal, Canada
A Divine Phone Call
Jogyata Dallas Auckland, New Zealand
I see infinitely more than I say
Agraha Levine Seattle, United States
A Truckload of Humanitarian Aid Sails through Customs
Arthada Platzgummer Vienna, Austria
Is it unspiritual to care about winning?
Tejvan Pettinger Oxford, United Kingdom
My inner calling
Purnakama Rajna Winnipeg, Canada
Learning to love songs ever more
Patanga Cordeiro São Paulo, Brazil
'Christ has stolen her heart and brought it now to me'
Dodula and Gunthita Zurich, Switzerland
I just knew from the moment I saw him
Ashrita Furman New York, United States
'When you perform for me, always choose devotional songs.'
Gunthita Corda Zurich, Switzerland
President Gorbachev: a special soul brought down for a special reason
Mridanga Spencer Ipswich, United KingdomSuggested videos
interviews with Sri Chinmoy's students
From religion to spirituality
Muslim Badami Auckland, New Zealand
Beginnings of a spiritual journey
Mahatapa Palit New York, United States
My well-scheduled day
Jayasalini Abramovskikh Moscow, Russia
My spiritual search from childhood
Hemabha Jang Jeonju, South Korea
I can recall only one occasion in my life when, ever so briefly, I fondly imagined that I was about to become enlightened. It was way back in 1978 and I was sitting in the cold winter sunshine on the shores of Rabbit Island, near Nelson in
Alas, as the hours wore on my euphoria receded, along with my expectation of an enlightenment experience, and I realised that I was about to rejoin the great Multitudes of the Unenlightened. The tide had come in and one of my discarded shoes, mocking my dismay, bobbed past me in the tide, enjoying its own brief liberation from worldly constraints. But the doorway had opened and I would never forget this sweet feeling of the inner life, like the distant memory of a happy childhood awoken by the fragrance, half a lifetime later, of a single tiny flower.
