Psychedelic saltwater!
Via Guido Grigats kolumnen.de hat Elisabeth Carlson freundlicherweise meine letzte Kolumne ins Englische übersetzt. Das ergibt einen völlig neuen Tonfall, der mir sehr gut gefällt. Aber lest selbst:
How I learned to see the Auras of Bankers
If you believe authorities like Penny McLean and Christine Kaufmann, then every living being is surrounded by a body of light, the aura. This body of light shines in all colours of the rainbow when that particular being is well. When the living being is unwell, the aura resembles a somewhat sticky brownish clump. With a little concentration everyone should be able to read another's aura.
Many books have been written on this subject, I've read them all. I have crossed my eyes, have focused on distant points, looked at trees, animals, people with an empty gaze, hoping that a rainbow of colours would appear if only I trained long enough. Auras should be seen almost blindly and that in colour, if you can imagine that.
In my efforts to free my intuition I needed props. I painted a wall white and placed my ficus in front of it. Three days later I still could not see its aura. My ficus had dropped all its leaves to let me know in no uncertain terms that it wanted to be moved back to the window and that its aura was now a miserable sticky brown clump.
According to Douglas Adams, the trick to flying is to throw oneself to the ground but miss. There must be a trick like that involved in seeing an aura. Just between you and me, it really does not do anything for you either,.. It does not make you slim, does not guarantee better sex, nor does it help in finding a parking spot. So I decided to take a course for yoga teachers instead, and that at an Ashram. There was space to park directly at the front door.
Some pupils there could actually see auras. Some, on the other hand, were spiritually on such a high plateau that they would finish an argument on the subject with the statement that the other is just not on the same plateau. A terrific strategy. Arguments would still continue but never amounted to much. Nevertheless, I much preferred the silent days. Much more so than the cleansing days.
Cleanliness is very important in the practice of Yoga and hygiene is a wonderful thing but I saw no reason to first swallow the cotton bandages and then recover them by pulling them back up through my mouth. Not to mention the colon cleansing, in spite of the fact that it would guarantee you a gleaming aura. After all, I don't need to look at my own crummy aura.
But I had to think of something, after all, 60 aspiring Yoga teachers stood around me and I did not want to give the impression of not caring about my inner cleanliness. In the end I decided on Kunya Kriya. With a death defying smile, you drink two liters of lukewarm salt water, hold your breath and pull your stomach in sharply. Then you stick your finger down your throat - and all that outside in the fresh air.
While my colleagues and I stood around the creek in the garden of the Ashram, trying to throw up 120 liters of salt water, a delegation of serious bankers in grey suits wandered about, taking notes of what their loan to the Yoga center was being used for. I had some difficulties in getting all the salt water back out of my stomach but I think I started to see the auras of bankers.
(übersetzt von Elisabeth Carlson)
How I learned to see the Auras of Bankers
If you believe authorities like Penny McLean and Christine Kaufmann, then every living being is surrounded by a body of light, the aura. This body of light shines in all colours of the rainbow when that particular being is well. When the living being is unwell, the aura resembles a somewhat sticky brownish clump. With a little concentration everyone should be able to read another's aura.
Many books have been written on this subject, I've read them all. I have crossed my eyes, have focused on distant points, looked at trees, animals, people with an empty gaze, hoping that a rainbow of colours would appear if only I trained long enough. Auras should be seen almost blindly and that in colour, if you can imagine that.
In my efforts to free my intuition I needed props. I painted a wall white and placed my ficus in front of it. Three days later I still could not see its aura. My ficus had dropped all its leaves to let me know in no uncertain terms that it wanted to be moved back to the window and that its aura was now a miserable sticky brown clump.
According to Douglas Adams, the trick to flying is to throw oneself to the ground but miss. There must be a trick like that involved in seeing an aura. Just between you and me, it really does not do anything for you either,.. It does not make you slim, does not guarantee better sex, nor does it help in finding a parking spot. So I decided to take a course for yoga teachers instead, and that at an Ashram. There was space to park directly at the front door.
Some pupils there could actually see auras. Some, on the other hand, were spiritually on such a high plateau that they would finish an argument on the subject with the statement that the other is just not on the same plateau. A terrific strategy. Arguments would still continue but never amounted to much. Nevertheless, I much preferred the silent days. Much more so than the cleansing days.
Cleanliness is very important in the practice of Yoga and hygiene is a wonderful thing but I saw no reason to first swallow the cotton bandages and then recover them by pulling them back up through my mouth. Not to mention the colon cleansing, in spite of the fact that it would guarantee you a gleaming aura. After all, I don't need to look at my own crummy aura.
But I had to think of something, after all, 60 aspiring Yoga teachers stood around me and I did not want to give the impression of not caring about my inner cleanliness. In the end I decided on Kunya Kriya. With a death defying smile, you drink two liters of lukewarm salt water, hold your breath and pull your stomach in sharply. Then you stick your finger down your throat - and all that outside in the fresh air.
While my colleagues and I stood around the creek in the garden of the Ashram, trying to throw up 120 liters of salt water, a delegation of serious bankers in grey suits wandered about, taking notes of what their loan to the Yoga center was being used for. I had some difficulties in getting all the salt water back out of my stomach but I think I started to see the auras of bankers.
(übersetzt von Elisabeth Carlson)
ElsaLaska - 26. Jan, 22:23