For centuries, the secrets of kundalini have been guarded by masters and buried in esoteric texts around the globe. Kundalini Rising brings together 24 illuminating essays by some of today's most prominent voices to demystify this mysterious phenomenon.
From personal accounts and yogic practices, to brain research and historical perspectives, this compelling anthology weaves together both the mystical and practical perspectives on the rise of kundalini energy to help support your own spiritual discovery.
Contributors include: Lawrence Edwards, PhD; Bonnie Greenwell, PhD; Bruce Greyson, MD; Gene Keiffer; Penny Kelly; Gurmukh Kaur Khalsa; Shanti Shanti Kaur Khalsa, PhD; Sat Bir Singh Khalsa, PhD; Gurucharan Singh Khalsa, PhD; Gopi Krishna; Olga Louchakova; David Lukoff, PhD; Andrew B. Newberg, PhD; Stuart Perrin; John Selby; Stuart Sovatsky, PhD; Swami Sivananda Radha; Dorothy Walters, PhD; John White; Whitehawk; Barbara Harris Whitfield; Charles L. Whitfield, MD; and Ken Wilber.
From the prophecies of the Mayan astronomers to modern predictions about social, ecological, and spiritual changes to our world, this comprehensive anthology offers you a chance to examine the mystery from every angle—and to decide for yourself whether 2012 will end with a whimper or a bang.
Whether you’re a skeptic, a true believer, or simply “2012 curious,” here is a thought-provoking exploration of this approaching landmark in human history.
The book includes essay by the following list of scholars, scientists, philosophers, and cutting-edge thinkers:Arjuna Ardagh José Argüelles, PhD Gregg Braden Carl Johan Calleman, PhD Gill Edwards Jean Houston, PhD Barbara Marx Hubbard Janosh John Major Jenkins Lawrence E. Joseph John Lamb Lash Ervin Laszlo Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee, PhD Meg Blackburn Losey, PhD Joanna R. Macy, PhD Karl Maret, MD Corinne McLaughlin James O’Dea Christine Page, MD John L. Petersen Daniel Pinchbeck Sharron Rose Peter Russell Robert K. Sitler Geoff Stray Jay Weidner
She was the daughter of Fujiwara Tametoki, a petty Court noble, remotely connected with the great family of Fujiwara, in the tenth century after Christ, and was generally called Murasaki Shikib. About these names a few remarks are necessary. The word "Shikib" means "ceremonies," and is more properly a name adopted, with the addition of certain suffixes, to designate special Court offices. Thus the term "Shikib-Ki™" is synonymous with "master of the ceremonies," and "Shikib-no-Ji™" with "secretary to the master of the ceremonies." Hence it might at first sight appear rather peculiar if such an appellation should happen to be used as the name of a woman. It was, however, a custom of the period for noble ladies and their attendants to be often called after such offices, generally with the suffix "No-Kata," indicating the female sex, and somewhat corresponding to the word "madam." This probably originated in the same way as the practice in America of calling ladies by their husbands' official titles, such as Mrs. Captain, Mrs. Judge, etc., only that in the case of the Japanese custom the official title came in time to be used without any immediate association with the offices themselves, and often even as a maiden name. From this custom our authoress came to be called "Shikib," a name which did not originally apply to a person. To this another name, Murasaki, was added, in order to distinguish her from other ladies who may also have been called Shikib. "Murasaki" means "violet," whether the flower or the color. Concerning the origin of this appellation there exist two different opinions. Those holding one, derive it from her family name, Fujiwara; for "Fujiwara" literally means "the field of Wistaria," and the color of the Wistaria blossom is violet. Those holding the other, trace it to the fact that out of several persons introduced into the story, Violet (Murasaki in the text) is a most modest and gentle woman, whence it is thought that the admirers of the work transferred the name to the authoress herself. In her youth she was maid of honor to a daughter of the then prime minister, who became eventually the wife of the Emperor Ichiji™, better known by her surname, Ji™t™-Monin, and who is especially famous as having been the patroness of our authoress. Murasaki Shikib married a noble, named Nobtaka, to whom she bore a daughter, who, herself, wrote a work of fiction, called "Sagoromo" (narrow sleeves). She survived her husband, Nobtaka, some years, and spent her latter days in quiet retirement, dying in the year 992 after Christ. The diary which she wrote during her retirement is still in existence, and her tomb may yet be seen in a Buddhist temple in Ki™to, the old capital where the principal scenes of her story are laid.
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In the hope that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap;
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It's acorny one."
With over 400 hand-picked jokes in this mega collection, there's plenty to inspire and delight any young comedian. Puns, knock-knock and doctor-doctor jokes abound - but rest assured it's not all corny. Bring out your ghoulish side with a collection of spooky jokes or be blown out of this world by a collection of hilarious astronaut antics. Your friends and family will cry with laughter!
For instance, we can learn exact particulars about the mode in which Rameses II made war, from the poem of Penta-Our, a Theban writer of the fourteenth century b.c. It is only by a figure of speech that this poem can be called an epic; it is rather a historical narrative couched in terms of poetic exaggeration with the object of flattering the royal vanity of Pharaoh.
The campaign in which Rameses then engaged was directed against Kadesh, a city built on an island in the Orontes. It is, according to Penta-Our, inhabited by a people known as Khita, whose spies are brought into the tent of Rameses and questioned as to the whereabouts of the King of Kadesh. The spies are forced by blows to answer, and they tell the Egyptian monarch that the King of the Khita “is powerful with many soldiers, and with chariot soldiers, and with their harness, as many as the sand of the seashore, and they are ready to fight behind Kadesh.” The King is very angry; for he had been deceived by false news to the effect that his enemy had fled in terror to Khilibu. “The fault is great,” he cries, “that the governors of the land and the vassal princes of Pharaoh have committed, in neglecting to watch the movements of the Khita.” He sends to bring back the legions he had sent away, and meanwhile the approach of the enemy is announced. The camp of Rameses is surprised by the Asiatics; many foot-soldiers are killed before they can seize their weapons, but a faithful band rallies in front of the royal quarters. Suddenly a cry is heard; Rameses has quickly put on his armor, seized his lance, ordered his war lion to be loosed, and dashed into the fight. Pharaoh with his master of the horse, Menni, is soon hemmed in by foes. “My Lord, O generous King!” cries Menni, “Egypt's great protector in the day of battle! behold we stand alone in the midst of the enemy, for the archers and the chariots have left us. Let us return, that our lives may be saved. Save us, O my Lord, Rameses Miamun!” Then Rameses called upon Amen, his god, and under his protection charged the enemy, and “his hand devoured them in the space of an instant.” Five times he rushed upon them, and five times they repulsed him. The sixth time he breaks their ranks and regains his own lines. Then the legions of Ptah, which had returned to the camp, join the battle, and the Asiatics are routed. The first care of Rameses is to refresh his brave horses, Victory-in-Thebes and Maut-is-Satisfied. Neither they nor Rameses and his lion are wounded, though all stained with blood and dust, while the head-plumes of the team are torn and tattered and their caparison broken.