What is it like, to be the disciple of a real spiritual master?
How is life different from those who don't follow a path?
This book is the continuation of my first one: The Hidden Path.
If you are not yet familiar with the topic, if you are new to t...
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"I heard that next Sunday, there is a ten k race in a little village close to Graz," Gerald informed us after the centre meditation.
Chewing enthusiastically on a piece of fruit cake – it was Anni's birthday and she had brought the treat to celebrate with us – I looked at the slim, brunette boy with mild interest.
I had just mastered the frightening distance of two kilometers. Therefore, ten kilometers were clearly out of my range and a race of that length was therefore even more clearly out of question.
Yes, I had run about eight kilometers before. Once. But that had been in the evening after sunset and while talking with Anni about spiritual matters. In other words: under ideal conditions.
"Hey, we really should go," The girl in question suggested brightly.
Have fun, I thought, taking another bite of my cake after having briefly glanced at the tall blonde.
"Yes, we could all go together." Ingeborg was another dedicated runner, even though she was already in her early sixties and had only started with the sport a few years prior.
After she had become a disciple.
Having experienced the beneficial effects of running for myself – yes, even after only two km one can feel invigorated and cleansed – I could understand her enthusiasm.
Even thought I did not fully share it, since I truly had no idea how anybody was able to survive any distance beyond what I had been able to achieve.
After all, even that short distance regularly took my breath away. And not in a good way.
Although. . . Once again that one, glorious evening appeared before my inner eye.
The affirmative comments that popped up from my fellow disciples sitting on the soft, carpeted floor all around me, added to that something that was stirring within me.
Maybe. . . Nah, I immediately discarded the thought. Ten is five times two, remember? Five times!
True, a soft inner voice agreed, but only two more than eight. . .
But that was different! Don't you simply love it when you're having an argument with yourself?
Or in this case - judging from what I had learned about the workings of the inner being - your mind with your heart/soul?
"What about you? Do you plan on going?" Eva, a brunette girl who had taken over the task of organizing the cars, asked me expectantly.
"Uhm." I quickly swallowed the last piece of the cake. Was I the only one still eating? Apparently. "I don't think so. You know my running capacity. Or lack thereof."
She did. Everybody was well informed about all the aspects of my spiritual life. I seem to enjoy sharing. . .
"You can always stop, if it gets too much. Just start," Ingeborg suggested, her eyes sparkling.
