Category: Your Stories

Go To Solstice

      Go to Summer Solstice Sadhana. Seriously. Just do it. Go! That trip to the beach can wait.   Too expensive? Find a service scholarship. Bumps it down to 200 bucks for almost ten days of yoga and meditation in the savagely beautiful Jemez Mountains.   Okay, so you
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Holy Holla!

The dusty roads between Garhshankar and Jalandar teemed with life. Surrounded by serene wheat fields lined with wispy trees, thousands of people motored up and down the cramped highway.  They dodged affable but incessant sevaks demanding them to receive Guru’s langar. Their heads adorned with orange turbans in celebration of Holla Mohalla (Holla), the Sikh
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Spiral of Naad

If you have never been to Darbar Sahib or India, there is a spiral circulation of people that is constant at Darbar Sahib, the Takhts (Sikh Thrones) and other large gurdwara complexes such as Goindwal or Tarn Taran. These Gurdwaras have perkarmas and sarovars—walkways encircling the water tanks. Some have only one entrance, but all
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Learning How to Love

India sneaks up on you and, when you least expect it, you’re so stressed that you could explode. It must be the endless cacophony or the pollution. Or perhaps it is the endless heavy Punjabi food; or perhaps that’s just life. Yes, that’s just life. Sorry India, I apologize.

My Experience of Shabad Guru

The Shabad Guru stole my heart 5 years ago and has kept it ever since. With my heart strings belonging to the Guru, my life, personality, karma and being have transformed and continue to transform in ways I never thought possible. My vibrations have raised to allow my souls destiny to shine through. It all started with the
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TO THE SADH SANGAT, RE: SECURITY

My concern is that with the passage of time, the memory of the Oak Creek massacre and other tragedies will fade away. I strongly encourage all members of the Sikh community - and especially Sikh Dharma Ministers - to act now to meet this ever-present challenge - not out of a sense of reactionary fear,
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My Teacher’s Teacher, Bhajan Lal

Bhajan Lal, my tabla teacher's teacher, was born in Lahore in 1935. One of three brothers, his father passed away before he completed the sixth grade, the grade in which he would end his formal education. He was twelve years old. Something else happened in his twelfth year: Indian independence, the formation of the Pakistani
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Paradise Found (Part 1)

What often happens, I think, to people born into a unique community with specific lifestyle, is that we do not feel we have chosen the life for ourselves. I think we also see a lot of hypocrisy. What is wrong with my parents’ marriage if they meditate all the time and bow before the Guru?
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