- It takes a village to raise a child - African saying
- Nature is our best teacher
- we are the world, we are the ones to make a brighter day!..
- Natural farming, food forest
- We dig our grave with our teeth
- Freedom of expression is my birth right
- Freedom of speech comes with great responsibility
- I become what I see in myself. All that thought suggests to me, I can do; All that thought reveals to me, I can become. This should be man’s unshakeable faith in himself, because God dwells in him.
- The Mother said - it is not this OR that, it is this AND that
- Life is for living not to understand
- "Sometimes you can't see the forest through the trees."
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Thursday, November 5, 2009
It is a method to make compost. very simple.
Sourya showed us her installation: a bucket/mini barrrel, a tap at the bottom and a small container with rice husk activated with EM. that's all?! yep.
Well, what do you do with your kitchen peels/left-over-to-be-thrown food? take it to your Bokashi bucket and allow it to forment..
When Sourya, my cousin, showed this to us, we were delighted because our kitchen waste is not ready for our vermicompost; we needed the missing link.
A juice accumulates at the bottom. With the help of the tap, you empty the juices out regularly to a plant..
Excited with this missing link to our composting methods; we drove off to Koot road (nearby mini town) to buy the necessary equipment and returned home to put it together. wow for that price too.
We have begun to use it. filling the bucket and sprinkling rice husk over.
We gave a bokashi self made bucket to our friends Akash and Monica who are thrilled to use their waste for a good purpose since anyway it is going nowhere but to a pile god knows where. we will pick the bucket when full and use it here in the forest!
A step in the dream coming true! :)
Anyone interested? we can install one for you (we going multinational) and replace the full bucket with a new one.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
We had accumulated another massive pile of small branches for shredding... but they were stored on the other side of the forest. How to get the shredder within dragging distance? No tractor, no cows, no help. Just two boys, an Old Man, and me.
Use the boys as bullocks:
Friday, October 16, 2009
Then the singing resumed. It started as a bubbling echo from no where and rose, slowly, steadily, to Jonas screaming in the belly of the whale. God knows what Martanda was singing, but all of the Greenbelt heard him.
Just another day at Lumière.
It's our third day without water, and while we're finding other ways to wash ourselves occasionally, the dishes are starting to get sticky and the bathroom pipes have that awful smell of stagnation. Martanda, who's even more hopelessly optimistic than I am, saw this as a brilliant opportunity--to clean the water tank.
So up the work tree he climbed, across the death-defying divide he jumped, and into the almost 20-foot deep tank he plunged with a bamboo ladder, a bucket, cleaning supplies, and a wire brush I sent up via rope. And, of course, he recorded it all on camera:
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
The latest case and point is Palani, who arrived with high blood pressure and deep anxiety on October 6. He changed his diet and habits and turned to the forest. He helped clear the path, prune the cashews, rake the leaves, and do whatever else needed doing. He read Paulo Coehlo and Grimm's Fairy Tales. He stayed home alone and listened to nature. He relaxed. And within one week, he's been healed.
It's official: The doctor says his BP's back to normal, and he seems a whole lot happier.
What he doesn't yet know is that Lumière can be like Hotel California: He may be physically ready to leave, but we have no plans to let him check out...
Saturday, October 10, 2009
For example, while I grew up in a farm town in Massachusetts, I never actually thought I'd drive a giant tractor. I've ridden in the carts of hay they pull while apple picking or choosing Christmas trees, but the seat behind the wheel was always reserved for someone who knew what they were doing. Except in India.
Ex-Road Service Cavalier Martanda needed the monstrous John Deer to pull a shredder from a forest on the other side of Auroville to Lumière. Trusty side-kick Catherine thought it would be hilarious to join. It was.
Never have I been on something so uncomfortable... nor have I ever driven anything as powerful. What an adventure!
And now, perched randomly in the topes of Lumière, the rusty shredder waits to eat loads of branches and twigs from the cashew prunings...
Friday, October 9, 2009
This time, from our second batch of Grace eggs, we have six healthy, happy, chicks and five rotten eggs.
Here's hoping each lives a long, healthy, happy life at Lumière...
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Martanda, Palani, and I spent the afternoon tripping, taping, and drilling stakes into the ground to clearly designate a one kilometer jogging path along the fence. We still have some marking to do... but the way is fresh, clear, beautiful. What a place to run!
The final touches require a whole lot of feet regularly stamping their way between our markings... Anyone interested in coming for a run?
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
This morning we discovered it's having babies.
Quite impressive, the markings on this little killer! (Unfortunately the pictures are less impressive...)
Friday, October 2, 2009
We are not like those people.
We are more like scavengers. (I say that with fondness.) We roam from forest to forest, learning what we can, and implementing the best ideas at Lumière but with our twist--which usually means making the best of it with whatever we've already got to work with.
For example, the spice rack was originally created with termite-eaten window frames and donated wood. The pond is filled with plants from a bookshop, Forecomers, a friend's house, and I forget where else. And our latest addition is the Lumiere take on a drip/water-preserving/handwash thing. All that's required is a cracked plastic bucket, a chewed-through dog rope, some old rubber, and some creative thinking:
Two minutes of running water and not nearly as much waste as the tap!
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Happily we welcomed them here in the forest. A lovely capsule to stay in. They committed themselves to helping on the land for the time they stayed!
Our main project presently is pruning the cashew trees for next years harvest.
Sou, a friend of theirs from Australia joined us. He stayed in a hammock attached to a cashew tree! Lovely to have over open, good hearted fellow beings of this planet on the land!
The pruned branches were taken on the oustide of the fence to be placed by the old man! A happy man he is when there are new people around :)
We visited Bernard from Aurobrindavan; a pending to-do since a long long time! His vegetable garden is made from many layers of soaked leaves, charcoal and a little of sand – their land is pebbl y and tough..
He uses everything from the land. Beautiful work!
Another pending to-do: Sadhana forest! Aviram took the group aroudn explaining their work. Aah, so inspiring. Lovely to see the dedicated work going on; on tough terrain with plenty of pebbles!
Grateful we are here higher up on the plateau where the earth has top soil and is fertile. There is 50m difference in elevation between Sadhana and Lumière. We are at the top of the water shed.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
We have 3 boxes; 2ft x 3ft x2ft made by bricks with a pipe for the vermiwash.
Jino was nice to give us a few handful of worms mixed with compost..we took it ourselves as he was bedridden.
We made a bed of white sand and placed the worms with compost in a pile as there as not enough so to save them we added leaves to cool it and sprinkled water to keep its temperature down. We were a little nervous as the cow dung that was ordered a week had not arrived. We had planned to commence our vermicompost adventure with cow dung, get those worms to reproduce and acclimatise :)
We would like to use foliage and our left overs from the kitchen to make vermicompost..
“Vermicompost is 9 times better then normal compost!..The liquid that passes through the compost when we sprinkle it to keep it moist is very good for watering the plants or vegetables.. there are several types of worms..just put some leaves on the ground with some moisture and worms will begin to come and you transfer them to your box..it can take upto 3 weeks to get your vermicompost.. “ I am narrating what they have told me – we are excited and so eager to see happen!
The 3 boxes are side by side so we are trying to use the one in the middle and use the 2 on each side to begin decomposing leaves and and waste from the kitchen and when the center will be ready we will allow the worms to vacate to the fresh awaiting decomposing leaves..smart eh? It is working (positive affirmation) :)
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
A flower is open to all that surrounds it: Nature, light, the rays of the sun, the wind, etc. It exerts a spontaneous influence on all that is around. It radiates a joy and a beauty.
It is frank: It hides nothing of its beauty, it lets it flow frankly out of itself. What is within, what is in its depth, it lets it come out so that everyone can see it.
It is equal: It has no preference. Everyone can enjoy its beauty and its perfume, without rivalry. It is equal and the same for everybody. There is no difference, or anything whatsoever.
Then generous: without reserve or restriction, how it gives the mysterious beauty and the very own perfume of Nature. It sacrifices itself entirely for our pleasure, even its life it sacrifices to express this beauty and the secret of the things gathered within itself.
And then, kind: It has such a tenderness, it is so sweet, so close to us, so loving. Its presence fills us with joy. It is always cheerful and happy.
Happy is he who can exchange his qualities with the real qualities of the flowers. Try to cultivate in yourself and refine the qualities.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Speeding around the sandy bends of the forest path, we suddenly stopped. We couldn’t just leave what lay there alone.
Little green eyes stared at us full of fright. A plastic cup stood beside them, half-filled with dirty water. A kitten sat abandoned and confused.
Was she left, or found? We wondered. But the lack of answered didn’t alter our actions; without hesitation I hopped off the bike and coaxed her to me. She came quickly. I climbed back on, and we returned to the house. It was obvious we were going to adopt the mangy, scarred, starving cat. It’s apparently what we do.
The idea was to have two dogs and a cat. We nursed Gopal back to life. Saedi/Rani is recovering nicely. And now we have…Moonshine?
Friday, September 18, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Gopal was a mangy, wormy, injured puppy and grew into a fine dog. Why would we want to take home anything else?
So suddenly, with the help of Lorraine and a pet van, we had a new dog on the outskirts of Lumiere. The trouble is, as soon as Lorraine left, the dog found herself a thorned fortress under a fallen cashew tree and refused to leave. As much as we wanted her, she didn’t quiet trust us.
It took some coaxing—and another visit from Lorraine—but the dog made it to the house, where we fed and loved her for an hour or so. In the quiet of the forest, while our backs were turned, she disappeared.
Another dog gone. Another failed attempt.
But the next night… I wondered out to get a bottle of water. Gopal greeted me at the door, as usual. But there were two beady dog eyes glowing from under the table… the lady dog returned! My heart went soft; how nice to see her.
She was fed again, played with Gopal, but by morning, had once again disappeared.
The day grew hotter. We weeded and weeded the garden. And as I squatted tugging at plants, I was suddenly attacked by warm kisses and golden-brown fur. Gopal was busy; She was back.
And since then she’s stayed. The two dogs run around like crazed puppies, playing and panting and loving life. The world is so much better when you share it. Two-by-two they herd cows (kind of), bark at intruders (sometimes), and otherwise fulfil the duties of farm dogs (like looking super cute).
Now she only needs a name… Cleo(patra)? Rani? Saedi?
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
I don’t think we’ve reached the endangered species mark yet, but we’re certainly on the watch list.
There were nights when every bed in the house and outside was full. Julie, Monica, Dean, Muthu, couch surfers, friends, whomever. Most have moved home. Dean and Muthu, or longest-term residents, have tragically departed to open their guesthouse and restaurant. I, for one, am devastated. Even Neo’s moving on, finding a new couch to surf, and requests from others are shockingly quiet. So suddenly it’s just Martanda and me.
And there was a time when we could almost boast 30 chickens. Eight adults, four babies from June, ten colored chics, and nine eggs from Grace. Thanks to the mongooses, the cat, and the attack of territorial mamma hens, we now have eight adults, one baby from June, six colored chics (that will join Dean and Muthu soon), and one hatchling from Grace. (We lost all three of the beautiful dark ones.) So we have ten chickens.
We also had an abundance of fuzzy four-legged friends. Gopal came early, weak and weary, and has grown into the dog of the Land. We tried to find him a friend… First in the form of three adorable puppies, which were taken back by the owners after they had second thoughts; then we found a big white dog who ran away on the first night; and we visited the animal shelter a couple times but found none for us to fall in love with. Biscotti, the cat, had proven an excellent addition (despite his killing sprees), but he too left with Dean and Muthu.
Martanda vetoed ducks and goats. I’m sceptical about geese (who are aggressive) and the cow (which will be a lot of work). So prospects are slim.
Not saying we’re not filling the Land with life. We’ve acquired avacado trees and papaya trees and ordered more seeds for the garden than we could ever use. Things are just a lot quieter than they used to be…
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
I sit and watch as Martanda and Muthu rattle of incredible knowledge about the trees, the shrubs, the animals. They tell us what to eat and drink for whatever ailments or improvements we’re seeking. They explain how to help things grow and to make the Land live better. And they are so goddam good with the animals.
The two mamma chickens pecked each other so much we had to separate them and tend to their wounds. Watching Martanda and Muthu gently hold the hens, wipe their faces, clean their wounds, and love them softly… This place nurtures such an incredible connection amongst living souls it’s amazing. There’s so much to learn.
We are silly to think we actually have any control over this divine anarchy; we like to pretend that we’re protecting the forest but it’s absurd. We are playthings of the Land, learning and growing per Her wish, not ours. We can hardly help steer the course according to our dreams; instead, I think, everything we do is part of Her plan. And she has found characters here that embrace Her teachings and connect in a magical way to Her creatures, and the rest of us are eager to play along.
We may have the might to eat the chickens, but they run the show. They have our hearts. We are tools to help their lives, and they know we’d never hurt them.
It’s a humbling and heartening thought.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
According to Wikipedia, it is:
...the largest hospitality exchange network, with approximately 1.4 million members in 231 countries and territories...We’ve had quite a few visitors through this service, and we’ve embraced them as graciously as possible. We shared meals, laughs, everything. By the end of it, they too have fallen in love with the Land. (How could you not?) Yet I realized today that while they may get a free bed and a free meal or two out of the deal, its Lumière that really benefits.
After registering, which is free, members have the option of providing very detailed information and pictures of themselves and of the sleeping accomodation being offered, if any...
Members looking for accomodation can search for hosts using several parameters such as age, location, sex, and activity level. Home stays are entirely consensual between the host and guest, and the duration, nature, and terms of the guest's stay are generally worked out in advance to the convenience of both parties. No monetary exchange takes place except under certain circumstances (e.g. the guest may compensate the host for food). After using the service, members can leave a noticable reference about their host or guest.
Instead of or in addition to accommodation, members also offer to provide guide services or travel-related advice. Couchsurfing also provides editable travel guides and forums where members may seek travel partners or advice. Couchsurfing is also focused on "social networking" and members organize activities such as camping trips, bar crawls, meetings, and sporting events.
The site also features a searchable database of hundreds of upcoming events organized by couchsurfing members...
This can be a lonely place, even for those who cherish solitude. The near-constant flow of visitors adds new energy and life to the Land, and it’s incredible to learn from the myriad of perspectives. Plus, couch surfers are basically free labor.
I tease. Kind of. I realized today that each has left a mark on the Land, contributed to Lumière in some way. One helped me with a super clean of the kitchen. Another hung a shelf in the storeroom. Yesterday we had two surfers, and they climbed with Martanda to the top of the windmill to set it free from its cyclone lock. Today Neo is going above and beyond—working side by side in levelling the dirt, digging holes, and doing whatever else boys do with tools and a forest to play with. While we went out shopping, he painted the storeroom. And Dean and Muthu—while not couch surfers, they too have busily built a duck house, spruced up the capsule, and made more meals than any of us can count.
So please: come, couch surfers, come! Come to Lumière!
Sunday, September 6, 2009
And I, after more than three months of playing Queen consort, will retire my responsibilities and return to the office.
Or so I say.
The thing is, after more than three months of playing Queen consort, I’ve grown accustomed to spending my mornings and evenings working in the forest. I’ve completely accepted that my fingernails will always have dirt beneath them. I’ve forgotten what color my feet are under the dye of red earth. And I like that.
So while I may retire from the work and writing this, I may not. Consider this a warning.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
I have one particular pair of pants that the boys hate because they’re white with red earth stains splotted to the knees. I call them my rain pants, because I wear them when driving through mud puddles that add more patches to the pattern. The boys call them disgusting.
Today I wore my rain pants as I went out to fetch idlis and croissants for breakfast. Upon my return, the boys took more than the food from me—they robbed me of my trousers. And before I could adequately cope, they dyed them in a bucket of red earth.
Suddenly my white pants with red stains are now entirely red, my rain pants can no longer get wet, and I look quite fashionable wearing them around Auroville.
The power of the fashion kings.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Except instead of a wolf, a sheep, and a cabbage, we have three batches of baby chickens.
The first are the beloved Lumière chickens, birthed in June and raised happily all summer. Ok, so one got picked off by a mongoose (Mamma Cas) and the other a dog (Beatrice)… but we are still have two growing chicks (Thelma and Louise) to be terribly proud of. And they have one protective mother.
Then we have a batch of 10 chicks died in paint that were given to me as a get well gift. One was eaten by the cat and another trampled or pecked to death, but the rest remain. They have no one to protect them.
And most recently we’ve added four gorgeous Grace babes, that have the awkward situation of two mother hens.
For housing, we have a hen house that’s loosely divided by a bamboo mat, and a bucket with a basket.
We started with the two mammas and the Grace babes in the basket, but the Thelma and Louise’s mother kept pecking the unprotected colored chics to death. Literally.
So we moved the Grace chicks to the hen house and put the colored chics in the basket, but the two moms are pecking each other blind.
And Thelma and Louise are simply way to big for a basket.
Anyone particularly talented in solving puzzles?
Saturday, August 29, 2009
But today I took a moment to consider all the changes that occurred since my arrival in June--on the animal front alone. At this moment we have:
- Four puppies
- Thirty chickens
- One cat
- Two ducks
- Cow invaders
- Three residents
- Two workers
- Tons of visitors
- Plans for a baby goat, a piglet, and who knows what else
- A garden ready for real growth
- Trees with so many fruits we're figuring out where/whether to sell or give the excess
Sure enough, tiny slimy beasts were emerging from beneath the two hens guarding the eggs from Grace. As of 1:27pm, we have four new additions to the forest farm… They are surely darker and different than the previous batch of hatchlings; will they grow up to have rainbows in their wings?
Welcome to the world, Grace chics!
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
We’ve been gathering the trash according to the categories but leaving them fairly open and exposed in piles where garbage cans would eventually go. The challenge was getting garbage bins from Pondi to Lumière.
Today, however, seemed the perfect opportunity to settle the matter. We left Pondi with a light shopping load, unlike most other days. We were four people on two bikes, leaving enough free hands carry the bins. So we stopped and purchased three blue barrels of exactly the right size.
Four free hands doesn’t mean it’s easy to take three giant trash bins home, especially when the bins are covered in god-knows-what and the road to be traveled is the ECR. Somehow, we managed:
We seriously have way too much fun.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
These days the boys sleep in the capsule. It’s got electricity and decorations and is truly a fine place to be. But it’s also damn exposed to the wilderness.
This morning, Gopal was barking. Gopal barks a lot. As usual—as in every morning—Muthu nudged the dog gently and told him to shut up. But this was no usual morning.
Meanwhile, the cat—who has taken to dwelling on the capsule roof—was particularly active. Biscotti too received a scolding.
So the animals descended but didn’t leave the boys in peace. Gopal kept barking barking barking, and began to growl and whine. Biscotti started hissing. Sleepy as they were, the boys realized there was something out there.
Slowly Muthu emerged from the mosquito net. What could it be? He rubbed his weary eyes and looked over the capsule’s rail…
There stood a cobra, huge and angry, aimed at the capsule but cut off by the dog and the cat. His hood was the size of two hands pressed together; its body thick as a man’s forearm. Big as was, side by side our Lumière guards kept the snake at bay.
Only when Muthu came down and started moving did the cobra finally leave, slithering off into the woods from which he emerged.
But because of Biscotti and Gopal, the boys didn’t awake to a surprise, no chickens were lost, and Julie nor I died of a heart attack upon leaving the house to make tea in the morning.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Her life was too short. From the storeroom bin to a basket to a chicken coop, too much of her life was spent behind screened walls. Only recently did she get a true taste of Lumière—of the wind chimes fluttering in the breeze, of the red earth beneath her feet, of the endless nooks and crannies nature has placed for the rest of us to discover. But she was a good chic. She loved her mamma and tolerated being handled by us. She didn’t mind that the cat wanted to eat her and the dog particularly enjoyed chasing her mother (because when Gopal chases Mamma Hen, Mamma Hen’s husband chases him, and apparently he find that fun).
Sadly, before she could grow into her true potential, a mongoose snatched her from the safety of her loving home, leaving her sisters, mother and the rest of the Lumière community no choice but to mourn her death.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
For example, I never knew how to build a spice rack. Now I know: Find people who know how to build spice racks, and convince them to come over and build it for you.
The twist comes when they ask for a power tool and you have to explain that there isn’t enough energy to run a power tool for a long time and to keep the fridge on, and frankly the fridge is more important than facilitating the spice-rack-creation-process. After all, we have a hand drill.
Of course, I said that before I tried the hand drill.
So, I learned another lesson: humility. Protected by a pillow and using every ounce of energy in my body, I tried and tried to drill sufficient holes in the cement wall with the hand drill. (Using it on the termite-ridden wood was much easier, to say the least.)
Then I learned that men are in fact stronger than women, as Bunty—who kindly volunteered to assist (ahem, I mean, to make) the spice rack—was able to drill a few more holes with relative ease. By “relative” I mean in comparison to me.
And then I learned that some things are worth wasting electricity on, for after Bunty and I spent and entire afternoon making and hanging one shelf, Muthu and Dean made and hung two more in approximately twenty minutes… and the fridge didn’t shut off.
At the end of the day the story’s still the same: I’m a proud owner of fancy new spice shelves. :)
Friday, August 21, 2009
Every morning I open the door to throw food in. Without fail, Mamma Hen flies at the opening with a fierce determination to free herself and her babies. Today, instead of fighting to restrain her, I simply left the door open.
But no one came out.
I walked away, waited. Nothing.
So I found Muthu.
Muthu knows more about living on land than I could ever hope to. Hell, he grew up here. I grew up in suburbia. He suggested we get into the coop and chase them out.
It was a ridiculous affair.
But the conclusion is the same: Our four baby chicks are free on the farm, roaming Lumière, exposed to the great wide open!
Monday, August 17, 2009
The Ringing Cedars Series is creating a wave of excitement that is sweeping the globe with positive, life-transforming messages of pure love energy from the beautiful Anastasia.
Filled with her profound practical wisdom and powerful creative imagery, Who Are We? reveals more of her remarkable dreams.
You will be stunned by Anastasia's vision of the future in which she exposes the extraordinary process by which all armaments—from nuclear missiles to handguns—will be removed from the planet in the days to come.
Anastasia paints images of exquisite beauty, abundance, peace and harmony—images which will fill you with renewed hope and inspire you to begin creating a very different life for yourself—one far better than anything you might have previously imagined.
Full of unexpected twists and turns, and with a surprise ending, Who Are We? will have you fully engaged from the very first word.
And if you, my dearest, should find yourself scattered
across the unfathomable Universe as little specks of dust,
still refusing to believe, then from these specks of dust wandering through eternity I shall begin to gather you up.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
There we were, driving home on the motorcycle from a nice dinner at a friend’s house. The paths through the forest a thick with dust, a red earth maze that takes us home. It’s dark in that forest; only the stars above and the headlamp light the way. We were weaving around corners, taking in the scent of the trees, when—whoosh!—a bug bounced of the light. Then—bang!—another. And another and another.
“What are they?!” Monica shouted in fear.
“I don’t know!” I hollered through the thickening cloud of wings that surrounded us. “Maybe moths?!” I was reminded of an X-Files episode where bugs ate people alive.
The fluttering of wings filled our ears and we closed our mouths and eyes in terror. Blackness, with nothing but bugs! Where’s the end of the cloud? How can we possibly continue driving like this?
Somehow, miraculously, we escaped the swarm and found our way home.
We were shell shocked but received warmly by Julie, who was making us all our last cup of tea for the day. She sat us down, stroked our wing-ridden hair, spoke softly to solicit the story from our frantic lips. But just as we started speaking, we noticed a flicker in the shadow. And another and another.
Wings and moth-like creatures had found us in the forest, and their numbers were multiplying faster than when we were on the bike.
What to do?!
We abandoned half-filled tea mugs on the table and sprinted inside. Within the safety of the cement walls, we figured we’d play cards until falling asleep.
The bugs had other ideas.
They flew into the screens, buzzing and fluttering about. Wings were everywhere. They covered every surface of the house trying desperately to find their way in.
We cut the lights.
They continued to plague the screens, but only a few dozen found there way inside.
Somehow, we all managed to fall asleep. And this is what we woke up to:
Friday, August 14, 2009
If you've read Anastasia, The Ringing Cedars of Russia and The Space of Love, and you think you've "got it"… Book 4, Co-creation, will cause you to think again. In this book, Anastasia's pure energy vibrates at a much higher pitch. Co-creation is vast in its scope of vision and powerfully poetic. You will actually feel yourself changing as you read.
Through words and images that sing to your soul, Anastasia deepens your understanding and raises your sights to a whole new level. This is the story of creation as you have never heard it told.
Now—as Anastasia reveals the Divine blueprint—we see that we are truly masters of our own destiny and that our choices affect not only ourselves but also the entire Universe. Full of astonishing revelations, this book may just turn your world upside-down. Co-creation offers practical steps, grounded in ancient wisdom, which you can use today to create powerful positive change in your life and simultaneously guarantee the future happiness of all mankind.
I shall tell you about co-creation, Vladimir, and then everyone will be able to provide an answer to his own questions. Please listen carefully and write about the Creator's great co-creation. Listen and try to understand with all your Soul the aspirations of the Divine dream.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
I decided I like him around because he catches scorpions. So far, there’s no proof that he actually does catch scorpions… in fact, we were alerted to the latest scorpion invader by Gopal, who seemed to think it was a toy. (On a side note, Muthu then decided to catch the scorpion in a glass jar, and its now living in our kitchen. Yuck.) But Monica’s cat in Texas hunted scorpions, and that’s enough for me.
Unfortunately, cats apparently are indiscriminant hunters, and this morning Biscotti decided to attack a squirrel’s nest. It was a quiet affair; no particular noise stood out from the others as I walked Gopal through the Land. But as we neared the kitchen, the chirping grew louder and more desperate. Sitting proudly on the path was Biscotti with a baby squirrel in its mouth.
What to do but try to rescue it?
So suddenly we’re caring for a baby squirrel. How? By wrapping it in gauze and feeding it watered-down milk from a syringe. Chances of survival are slim… but it’s always good to hope.
For the most part we all get alone. Sometimes the dog chases the chickens, and the cat constantly brings home dead lizards and other “presents.” And sometimes the dog plays with the cat, who responds by hissing and clawing.
Today the cat brought us a new friend. Granted, the cat wanted to eat the new friend, but when I heard the baby squirrel crying in the cat’s clutches, I had to intervene. The baby’s uninjured, but so young his eyes aren’t open. And none of us have the heart to end its life.
So with a newly purchased syringe and some watered-down milk, and we’re suddenly nursing a two-inch baby to life.
Survival rates are slim, but we’re optimistic.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
In the back corner of the forest, someone must have been roasting cashews and—woosh!—fire spread. The ground is charred black. The trees are dead. Their leaves are crispy golden brown.
I came to the kitchen and asked Muthu what to do. “What can you do?” he said. I sighed and consoled myself that fires are purging and breed better life.
The Old Man came back to the kitchen and almost cried. He cursed the fools that did this. He swore and sulked. He got angry with himself for being out, and angrier with the world for punishing the Land like this.
That’s what I realized that as much as I love Lumière, it’s the Tata's everything.
The Old Man is a remarkably spiritual person too. We returned from the Nadi readers without ever informing him that that’s where we were going, and he not only told us where we went, he guessed at our fortune. He recently did a puja for a woman who was infertile and now she’s three months pregnant. He’s often whisked away to work in the temples of villages near and far. He is something special.
When realizing his power, Muthu asked him why he works on the Land instead of in the temples—or at least why he doesn’t take Sundays off. “Because they [those responsible for Lumière] appreciate me, and they need me. And the Land needs me. So I stay, and I work.”
No wonder the fire broke his heart. Part of his baby’s hurting, and he wasn’t around to protect it.