sábado, 17 de março de 2012 | Autor:

Once, a famous dancer improvised a few instinctive movements. These movements however were extremely sophisticated, thanks to their virtuosity, and as a result, stunning. This body language was by no means ballet, but had undeniably been inspired by dance.

The breathtaking beauty of this technique moved those who witnessed its expressive nature. They asked the dancer to teach them his art. He did so. In the beginning the method had no name. It was something spontaneous which came from within, and which was echoed only in the hearts of those who had been born with the good fortune of having a more refined sensitivity.
The years went by, and the great dancer managed to impart a large part of his knowledge. Until one day, a long time afterward, the Master passed to the invisible plains. His art on the other hand did not die. The most loyal disciples preserved it intact and assumed the mission of passing it on. The pupils of this new generation understood the importance of also becoming instructors and not to modify or alter any of the teachings of the ingenious first mentor.
At some point in history this art gained the name integrity, integration, union: in Sanskrit: Yôga! Its founder joined the ranks of mythology with the name Shiva and with the title Natarája, king of the dancers. Leia mais »

quarta-feira, 3 de março de 2010 | Autor:

Hi Professor DeRose,
here is the final version of a text translated from the “Ser Forte” work.

abraço muito forte,

Fabs

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The Trees and the Stones

There was once a boy full of strange ideas. He felt that Infinity was small and Eternity was brief. He talked to the Trees and the Stones, and marvelled at the great significance of the story they told. One day the Trees said to him:

“Did you know? In our Universe each one of us fulfil our roles solely for the satisfaction of doing so. None of us is exempt. Humans spend their lives just doing things that end in conflict, misery and disease. They don’t do what they really want to do. They become prisoners of civilisation; they live their lives in vain earning their living by doing jobs they don’t like, achieving nothing. In the end they become morose, grow old and die dissatisfied. Try to live happily like us; we sustain ourselves, breathe and reproduce according to Nature. So, even when we die, we actually live on through our seeds and grow again. Go and teach this to those who, like you, can hear our words. It will make many people happy, and free them from the slavery of hypocrisy.”

The boy was too young to know exactly what the Trees meant, but he agreed to carry this message to mankind. However the Stones, who until then had been very quiet, began to speak and said some terrifying things!

One of the bigger stones, which was covered in moss lending it a venerable air, took centre stage and spoke from the depths, echoing from within its soul:

“No, you should not make the mistake of giving the message of the Trees to men. We are stone cold and coldly we will judge. We’ve been here longer than them and have witnessed this insignificant, Universal History of humans unfold. Many have received this message before you and have been burdened with the responsibility of regaining the happiness that hominids lost by ignoring the laws of nature. Anyone who tried to help mankind was persecuted, vilified and martyred. Each one according to the customs of his day: crucified in the name of justice, publicly burned in the name of God and so many other torments through which you have already passed several times and have forgotten … Now you can no longer sense danger and agree to try again. What a tragic lack of judgement! When you start spreading the message of the Trees, men will first try to do a deal with you. If you do not take the thirty pieces of silver, giving in to their attempts at bribery, then you will need to be really strong to stand firm, for they will strike you in all possible ways.”

But the boy quickly gave his reply. He took a branch in one hand and a stone in the other, and cried:

“This is my sceptre. And this is my orb. I will build our sanctuary with your elemental kingdom and I will gather within it those who are able to hear and understand. The rocks will keep those incapable of understanding on the outside, and the logs will provide warmth on the inside, for those who recognise the value of this re-encounter.”

The Trees and the Stones fell silent. Then the Trees anointed him with the dew shaken by the wind, and the Stones placed in his hands the primeval moss they wore, as if to bless him.

At that moment the Sun’s rays were diffused through the branches and the morning mist. The boy looked up and understood: if the light was blinding it would not help you see, but would rather dim understanding. So, he thanked the branches and the mist and even the Stones that tripped him up to make him more attentive to the path he was following. And he loved them all … even mankind!

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