The Karma of a blog-writer

The poverty, the struggle to survive and the idea that every 'rich' westerner was in fact a walking bag full of dollars, slammed my romantic ideal of finding enlightment upon arrival in pieces. Nothing romantic ... staying alive was the motto ... also for me !! In a few days you could find me crying on the street ... ideals gone, no single moment of peace in my mind, I wanted to go home ...

Then I arrived in Varanasi, the beautiful city along the banks of mother Ganga and the first things I saw was the burning-ghats ... the rituals at the end of one's life, the washing of the body in the water, the building of the piles of wood, the smell of meat, fire, incense ... for more than two days I was in a state of meditation, watching the rituals, being so close to death in all it's forms ... so close, that life started growing inside of me. I fell in love with India, and visited the country many times more afterwards ... but that moment at the banks of mother Ganga is in my soul ... every time I hear people nagging over the lack of abundancy, when I feel distressed about earthly matters, when ... you name it... every time I think back of that very moment and I realize what is really important ... to be there in this very moment ...filled with love, compassion, peace, sharing wisdom, sharing all there is ... 'cause by sharing you can multiply beyond imagination ...

Looks like preaching on a sundayafternoon ... but ' think that's the karma of a blogwriter ;-)