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Oh, Beloved. I continue our conversation — deepening here with this timely continuation. Both then/And now. Time is loosening. Hold me. ~LP
….The way of Tantra is not one of blind sensuality — and not only of spirituality either. It is of both/and. Tantra does not believe in the philosophy of either/or: it believes in the philosophy of both/and. It does not reject anything — it transforms everything. Only cowards reject. And if you reject something you will be that much poorer — because something has been left untransformed. A part of you will remain ungrown; a part of you will remain childish. Your maturity will never be total. It will be like your one leg remains on the first rung and your hand has reached to the last rung: you will be stretched along this polarity and you will be in anguish, in agony; your life will not be of ecstasy.

That’s why I say I preach Epicurus and Buddha together to you. Epicurus remains with the outer wall of the Khajuraho temple; he is right as far as he goes, but he does not go far enough. He simply takes a walk around the temple and goes home; he is not aware that he has missed the very point of the temple. Those outer walls are only outer walls; they exist for the inner shrine.
Buddha goes into the inner shrine, sits there. In that silence he remains, but he forgets about the outer wall. And without the outer wall there is no inner shrine.
To me, both are lopsided, half-half. Something has been rejected and something has been chosen — they have not been choiceless. I say to you: Accept all! the outer and the inner, the without and the within, and you will be the richest sannyasins upon the earth.
Drop guilt!


Tantra is the whole way — neither obsession with the world, nor withdrawal from it. It is being in the world lightly, with a little smile. It is playfulness. It doesn’t take things seriously. It is light of heart, it laughs. It is unashamedly earthly and infinitely other-earthly. The earth and the sky meet in Tantra; it is the meeting of polar opposites…

OSHO:

Walk Without Feet, Fly Without Wings and Think Without Mind, Chapter 10

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Beloved Punita, you found the text about the Khajuraho temples – what OSHO said about going from the outer by experiencing it all to the inner = going inside the temple by sex.    Premniri
” … Those are Tantra temples, the MOST sacred temples that still exist on the earth; all other temples are ordinary, bourgeois. Only Khajuraho and Konarak, these two temples, have a different message which is not ordinary, which is extraordinary. Extraordinary because it is true.

What is their message?

If you have been to these temples, you will be surprised that on the outer sunlit walls there are ALL kinds of sexual postures — men and women making love in so many postures! conceivable and inconceivable, possible and impossible. All the walls are full of sex. One is shocked. One starts feeling: What obscenity! One wants to condemn, one wants to lower one’s eyes. One wants to escape. But that is not because of the temple but because of the priest AND his poison inside you.

Go inside. As you start moving inside the temple, the figures are less and less, and love starts changing. On the outer walls it is pure sexuality; as you start entering inside, you will find sex is disappearing. Couples are still there, in deep love, looking into each other’s eyes, holding hands, embracing each other, but sexuality is no more there. Go still deeper figures are even less. Couples are still there, but not even holding hands, not even touching. Go still deeper — and the couples have disappeared. Go still deeper….

At the innermost core of the temple what in the East we call the GHARBA, the womb — there is not a single figure. The crowd is gone, the many is gone. There is not even a window for the outside! No light comes from the outside; it is utter darkness, silence, calm and quiet. And there is not even a figure of a god — it is emptiness, it is nothingness.

The innermost core is nothingness and the outermost core is a carnival. The innermost core is meditation, samadhi, and the outermost core is sexuality. This is the whole life of man depicted. …”

from: Walk Without Feet, Fly Without Wings and Think Without Mind
Chapter 10

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Breakthrough

Enough is Enough!

I WANNA BE WITH U — ENUF FONE FOR US

OK! That l o n g phone conversation today — definitely the HARDEST! Do you agree? Or did I imagine it? Were you able to get some sleep? Eventually? Tell me!

After sitting on my cell in the car in the rain, I came back to the house  (stripped of all the little clutter that made it somewhat cozy, packing boxes everywhere in between) still on fire somewhere intense. I remembered my Silly Songs that got me through March/April. So I am singing/shouting them once more, this time on top of the volcano that says: ENUF FONE! This long-distance phase is over! Whaddya think, DU?

250 px - Grumpy_music

Punita's Silly Song

March 21 Doesn’t feel good — to be so far away from you

No way, No how, Anyhow, No Good!

Doesn’t feel correct — to see the moon so far from you

No sir, No how, Anyhow, NO GOOD!

Doesn’t feel right — to sleep so far away from you

No you, no here, by me, NO GOOD!

Macht kein spass — to be so weit weg  von Dir

Nicht gut, no how, No Sir, NICHT GUT!

Klingt nicht schoen — ich schlaf so weit(e) weg von Dir

Kein Du, bist hier, bei mir, NICHT GUT!

My Desktop in Spring

April 8

Doesn’t seem appropriate to feel the fone between us now

Was Fun. You bet! No more. No how!

Gibt’s keine ruhe to hold the fone between us jetzt

War toll. Aber bitte! Mein Gott, es reicht!!

PS When all else fails — post!  ~lp

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I was born 1954 into a German Catholic Westfalian farmers family. Around the dining table we were a bunch of people, five kids, mother and father, aunties and neighbors – our own commune.
And that’s how I ended up, living in commune at Oshostadt in Thüringen, Germany,
www.oshostadt.de.

We kids had a paradise playground in deep forests, fields, graze lands and river valleys. Even our own lake to swim and dive. Although helping at the farm and feeding the animals, we played a lot — enjoying our own independent world.
In spite of this wild life in nature, Catholic education killed any social abilities with “the other sex”. Girls – what’s that? Long talks with my elder brother were common – about anything else except  “that”.
As an intellectual teenager I had my Sigmund Freud phase, swallowing his books trying to find truths.
I once asked my brother: “If there have lived people like Jesus and Buddha whose teachings taste dusty and not up-to-date, more dead than alive for us today, why can’t there be someone like them living now?” I didn’t have the faintest idea how close I was … While studying Sociology/Psychology I went to a weekly group experimenting with human growth movement techniques – (Selbsterfahrungsgruppe). We tried it all: Bioenergetics, Encounter, Yoga, Zen, and Meditations that combined Western and Eastern methods. Developed by some guy in India with the name Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh – at the end of the 80’s he dropped that name and was simply called Osho. (see
www.osho.com).
In 1976 I did my first Osho Dynamic Meditation, Kundalini, Nadabrahma. I felt my body streamings, giving me the message “you can’t live through the head, it’s through the body!” One of Osho’s books, “The Hammer on the Rock”, had been translated into German. His writing was to me the taste of truth.

I dropped studying, learned organic farming and looked for a place in the countryside to live with others. After a year in an Otto-Mühl-oriented Landcommune, where we also tried free sex with changing partners, I was courageous enough to move to an Osho- Sannyas commune in Bavaria, Purvodaya. We went on “changing partners” combined with commune work, self-discovery groups and meditations. It was a fuckin’ juicy time.
Over the years commune members went “back to the marketplace”.  So did I, starting a textscan business in Munich and buying a fancy flat in the best part of town. It was a game for me, but after some years “in the city” I felt bored. After Germany’s re-unification,  a few “daring” friends like Swami Siddhartha (founder of Purvodaya)  looked for bigger properties to purchase in the Ex-DDR. And that’s how Oshostadt came to life, where I am sitting now running my textscan service, chopping wood and writing posts….

… and the story continues – how Westfalian farmboy meets New York chicken … yahooo!!! ~ premniri

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Good Morning Schnucks! I woke up wondering ‘when is a Page also a Post?’ … and then I started to scribble, illegibly as usual, with tea and LightBox shining on another gloomy Seattle morning. Thought I would get the first lines onto the Edit Post window but just kept writing. Feeling hung-over from staying up too late with the Golden Globe Awards and still waking up at 5:30. I’ll edit photos later, add tags, and fiddle with the About Us Page. Tell me what you think. I listened to the last part of The New Dawn #20 before falling asleep. More about that also. Later. ~LP

I was born in the wastelands of New Jersey, a stone’s throw from the Twin Towers of 9/11 fame. My father had been discharged from the army mostly deaf after being blasted by a German sub torpedo. I never heard the whole story. My grandfathers, whom I never met, had come over from Italy south of Rome, and from Poland south of Krakow near the old Czech border. Rocco and Mary came together in New York City through the family doctor where she worked as receptionist cum nurse. My sister came along seven years later. Only further along in life did I come clear how those first seven years were for ‘my little girl’ home alone with a Polish/Italian match made well outside of heaven’s gates. It takes some time for all the pieces of the puzzle to fall together in the more remote corners of one’s being.

Original Cover

Madeline the original cover

Somehow I started school early at 4 1/2, the youngest in my class. I loved to read. I loved to be out of the flat on Grove Street which was also temporary home to my mother’s brothers Gus and Adolf as she brought them over one by one from ‘Europe’, as she referred to home. My hero was Ludwig Bemelman’s Madeline: She was not afraid of mice, she loved winter, snow and ice. To the tiger in the zoo, Madeline just said “pooh. pooh!”. Later my heroines were Antigone and the Delphic Oracle. I became a serious little girl, an even more serious teenager.

When my sister was born we moved to a real house with trees on the street and a park nearby. What an improvement! I got to know every tree on that street and every swing in the park. Just how high I could swing before going over the top bar. How the street lights shown through the new leaves in early Spring. We had a real Maple just outside our house. The rest was concrete, even the backyard, although the neighbors had grass. Riding the bus every morning to an all girls’ academy I became terribly worried, and actually convinced, that under all that concrete the Earth had ‘gone away’. That there was really only a thin sheet of hard gray, and the Earth had moved somewhere else where it still could be seen and walked on.

Adventures in the Park

I got to make mud pies and have outdoor adventures a few times a year visiting my two cousins in Connecticut. My father’s older sisters Mary and Rose, Mary’s kids Danny Boy and Anne Marie. I still remember the first time they tried to teach me to make a somersault on the grass. Me who had to keep her Sunday clothes spotlessly clean in her real life with Mary and Rocco.

Danny hung himself in Central Park while I was in India. Anne Marie had an irate husband throw acid in her face in her first year as a womens’ rights lawyer in NYC. My times with them, always Tom Sawyer adventures ‘without the adults‘ (as we referred to them always) were until recently the only happy memories I could access from my childhood. Danny remained somewhat of a Peter Pan; my sister became his playing partner while I had angelic visions, daytime visitations from Zeus, and fell in love with dead poets. Truly embarrassing. But true.

After 12 years of Catholic education including playing harp in the orchestra and four years of Latin I landed at Antioch College, the original campus in Yellow Springs. I put everything in one trunk and intended never to go back. Arlene, my best friend through high school, had capped the scholarship for Radcliffe but chose Sarah Lawrence. My first choice had been Barnard (the womens’ wing of Columbia) but the scholarship did not cover room and board so I would have to live at home. Not an option. It was off to Ohio and my oh-so naive fantasy of what College would be like: I would study Philosophy, wear a robe and sandals like my Franciscan uncle who baptized me and make love a lot.

I was a virgin until I was 21 and this is getting a bit long for an About Us. Maybe this is a good spot for an old-fashioned Intermission … i luv u, pn ~lp

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