The Camana Hall in Lima, Peru

Lima downtown is an area than meets more than ten million people a day. The colorful crowd has received epithets such as “urban wildlife”, “concrete jungle” and several less poetic names, that describe, somewhat, its chaotic aspect. There can be seen, perhaps, the best and the worst of this stunning city, called “City of the Viceroys”.

The beautiful restored historic buildings, try to survive the smog that, merciless, covers them every day, with a layer of black pollution; and the noise of thousands of public service passenger cars is such a cacophony, which peaks among noontime to eight p.m. The scenes are worth of a Fellini’s film, disturbing the mood of walking people. It’s easy to feel alone among this concert.

In one of these busy streets of Lima, called Camana St., in the third block, Hugo Monroy, a loving student of Prem Rawat, operates the “Third Millennium” Restaurant, where, day by day he prepares delicious Peruvian food for regular customers in the area, with the help of secret recipes, inherited from his maternal grandmother.

In fact, these recipes are the only thing Hugo doesn’t share with anybody, because the rest of him is an open house at the disposal of his greatest passion: spread the message of Prem Rawat.

With the help of Maritza Espinoza, since 15 months ago, this restaurant-at-day becomes every Thursday and Sunday, a “Hall of Propagation” at night, reuniting a beautiful community who meet in these days according to a very specific schedule: Thursdays, at 7 pm, meet those who are watching the Keys and at 8 pm, introductory events take place. Usually, the ones who were watching the Keys remain at the introductory event. On Sundays, since 5 to 6:30 pm, there are introductory events.

stopped on a dime

there is some endless and lost sun
shining in ecstasy, shining forever
there through your eyes
i have noticed this fragrant abode,
this mountain of still magic
this place standing taller than time

through one who has come undone
standing still, my swing has stopped
motionless screaming in delight
of things known thru all ages
of things felt thru all time
of you who i know now
and will always love

i am stopped on a dime
i am suspended in a place
of living time

They say Inner Peace is free of charge …

There are some things in life I learned on my own.

Most have to do with organic bodily processes. The reptilian brain responses to external stimuli. “Built-in” stuff. Innate stuff. Fear, hunger, survival programs. Turning grunts and groans into meaningful – or in some cases, meaningless – dialogue.

With regard to growth, maturity, propelling ones self ahead in life, communication, livelihood, relationships, ownership… all this had to be learned. The learning process was as prone to fault as the marriage between teacher and student. Many questionable teachers, often a reluctant student. Many trials and tests. Many cyclical loops of learning new ways to break things, versus old ways to fix things. And the School of Life goes on.

Within

WITHIN
The world resides within me.
All the stars,
the wind
the sunshine
the moonglow
resting
and moving,
within ? my ? breath
Joanne
May 2006

This Is A Test.

This is a test, 1-2-3-4.

How many times have you heard that?? You’re at a conference or a performance; there’s the guy has his mike, testing 1234. You think, this is not a performance, this is not a star, this is just “Testing 1234”.

Yet the sound hits your ears, and it hits 300 other peoples’ ears and it sinks in. And they know him, that man with the pliers, with the unshaven beard. That man that doesn’t believe in his own voice. That man that has peanut butter in his lunch kit.

Testing 1234. He has just made his first hit. He has performed as a lead-in for the Stones, he has influenced the neurons of two hundred board directors who shape the corporate planet. He has revealed himself and all his hidden virtues to people who clean chairs and people who sit in Rolls Royces.

But, this is just a test. Testing 1234. This is just a test. And he thinks he is nothing and he knows he is nothing because his world of duct tape and electrical joiners is not on the scale of broadcast news. His wife has a better job. And yet he has spoken; all have heard. He has left his dynamic footprint, as all dinosaurs do, as the coming and going of leaves on millionaires’ trees.