“I reach for the water and drag it across the table. I shouldn’t criticise or mock, but I do feel antagonistic toward the woman whose eyes follow the jug as it slides away from her. Of course, I know for each finger pointing at someone else, there are three pointing back at you, but these other fingers aren’t usually being licked clean at the time.” SpiritualitySelf HelpInspirational LifeRacismSelf RealisationNon DualityDublinBallymun Book:Swami Premananda & The Temple of Whom Source: Swami Premananda & The Temple of Whom
“The driver nods and yanks the steering wheel like an old quack pulling out a molar, bumping us up onto the kerb. We stop beside a stall selling juice. Lesley and I approach the proprietor, who’s got a generous supply of teeth. Most of them seem to be vying for a seat up the front where the view’s better. He’s stuffing ripe oranges down the throat of a large trembling juicer. It’s whirring, grinding, and gushing a copious flood of juice into a bucket. Unfortunately, the bucket’s got a halo of flies. Lesley, not wanting to offend the man, leans closer to me and whispers, ‘It looks a bit unhygienic.’ ‘Unhygienic? Lesley, I can actually see a blue bottle washing shit off his feet with the juice.” SpiritualityHumourSelf AwarenessPilgrimageSpiritual DevelopmentHealing The PastNon Duality Book:Swami Premananda & The Temple of Whom Source: Swami Premananda & The Temple of Whom