On Saturday, January 3rd, at exactly 5:42 pm my nose started to bleed. By the time I grabbed something to hold to my nose I was soaked in blood. Red, thick, beautiful blood. Scary. My inner eyes projected a scenario: me, on the floor, dead, in a pool of blood.
I checked my pulse and it was bang, bang, bang, unusually strong. “I must have high blood pressure” I thought. Both my parents died of broken blood vessels… and both my brothers have high blood pressure.
The blood eruption repeated itself at 11:02 pm, three times on Sunday, and twice on Monday.
Monday night, as I was staring at the blank wall contemplating the chances of dying, I suddenly saw my Kabbalah teacher in my mind’s eye. She recently recovered from a nasty disease, and it had done her a world of
The bad:
In this whole series, Osho examines a piece of poem or a story from a world culture that is spiritually meaningful. This poem is Japanese. Osho distinguishes being in the present, not being in the past, not being in the future, not desiring the present different from what it is.
Warning: this article is a little “technical”… if you are only reading for the fun of it, you’ll hate this article… Don’t tell me I haven’t warned you!