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and compare them with the Christian trinity: God the father, God the son, and the holy ghost.
It is not even comparable to satchitanand: truth, consciousness, bliss or to satyam, shivam, sundram: truth, good, beauty. These seem to be experiences. God, the son and the holy ghost... I don't think anybody has ever experienced them. And the experience would be more like a nightmare!
But it all depends on you. Just as your dreams are yours and show something about your mind, so are your ideas while you are awake. They show something about you, and this is to be remembered by every seeker. This is a turning point. We are easily objective but our reality is subjective. We see things there which are our own projections.
A poet looks around the trees in a different way. He sees many greens, not one green. His sensitivity is so deep that he can make very subtle distinctions in the green of one tree and the green of another tree. You ordinarily simply see that the trees are green, but not even two leaves are exactly the same green. It needs a very sensitive, artistic, poetic, approach -- it depends on you; you live in your own world.
J. Krishnamurti used to say, "You are the world." Once this is understood tremendous changes are possible. You will not throw tantrums at others. You will become more centered, you will become more subjective and introvert. Your world will start losing objects; it will become more of a subjectivity -- and that is your truth.
Once you are centered in your being, beyond mind, then you can see the world as it is. Only very few people have seen the world as it is. Everybody sees it as his mood, his emotion, as his idea suggests to him.
Jalada, it has to be remembered continuously, that whatever you see, it is your own projection. Unless you start seeing the same everywhere -- in the friend and in the foe -- then your experience has entered into a new realm.
Irving Levensky, a leading dress manufacturer, decided to go on an African safari. After spending six weeks in darkest Africa, he returned to Seventh Avenue. Everyone who worked in his show room gasped when he walked in the door.
Irving, who
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