The Heart of the Matter
September 23, 2019
Back to the Garden

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I'm sure there was a time back in the Garden of Eden before the biting of fruit, naming of lizard, and placing of fig leaf, when Adam turned to Eve or Eve turned to Adam and, in the delightful absence of language, greeting cards, or text messaging, found a simple way to communicate something real about their experience of being alive.

Ever since those halcyon days, we've been trying to do the same -- to express something basic, primal, and pure about what moves us and why we often linger in the gaze of another who lets us in just long enough to experience the blessing of being received, no strings attached.

It is into this space I find myself being transported upon seeing Prem Rawat -- a space that continues expanding the moment he leaves the stage. He's gone and so am I -- my body now a hologram, my heart a happy camper.

Stunned in my seat, I am completely still, infused, fulfilled, free, my blood a kind of overflowing champagne fizz.

I'm sure I could move if I wanted to, but I don't want to. The desire to go anywhere has vanished. All I want to do is sit here and soak up the feeling forever. My name, my plans, the details of my life all seem like odd relics.

I am driftwood here, washed ashore, something a curious tourist might find on a sunny day.

I breathe. I bask in the light of an interior sun now made brighter by the one I have no words for. I follow my breath like a happy drunk follows the dotted white line home after an endless night of celebration.

PEAK: Know Yourself
PremRawat.com
TimelessToday

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 03:33 AM | Comments (2)

September 22, 2019
ONE MILLION STRONG!

Fabulous anthem from Stuart Hoffman and team. Wow! Go full screen! Turn up the volume. Feel it! There is magic afoot. And remember, as Prem Rawat once said, "The bigger the circle of darkness, the bigger the circle of light."

Peace Education and Knowledge (PEAK)

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 08:27 PM | Comments (1)

Give Everything You Have

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Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 12:04 AM | Comments (1)

September 13, 2019
THE LETTER

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When asked to explain his highly abstract Theory of Relativity, Albert Einstein made it comprehensible in just two sentences. "Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute," he said, "and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute."

I can relate. And though I like to think of myself as someone who understands Einstein's perspective, I realized, 14 years ago, that I haven't got a clue.

The year was 2005 and I was in India where I was living for three weeks at the ashram of my long-time teacher and favorite-person-in-the-whole-world, Prem Rawat. My mission? To learn how to coach people from North America who were in the process of being trained to facilitate Prem's Knowledge sessions.

Two weeks into the project, one of the program coordinators mentioned, during one of our evening debriefs, that Prem was less-than-pleased by the quality of teamwork being demonstrated by his various teams around the world -- a comment that immediately got my attention, as I had, within the past few months, created a deck of cards to help teams become as high functioning as possible.

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"What perfect timing!" I thought to myself. "Prem wants to upgrade the quality of teamwork among his many volunteers and I just happen to be 95% done with a deck of cards devoted to that very topic."

Badaboom. Badabing.

Later that night, back in my room, still bubbling with excitement, I wrote Prem a letter informing him of the existence of my card deck and suggesting that the two of us collaborate on its completion.

It felt good to write the letter, free as I was, in that moment, of the cloud of doubt that usually surfaced any time I thought of pitching him an idea. You know, the classic kind of mind static that long ago claimed squatter's rights in my head -- junk like "He's probably way too busy to read my letter" or "Who am I to pitch him such a half-baked idea?"

Free of this crapola, I signed the letter, put it in an envelope and, the next day, tracked down someone close to him who promised they would put the letter on his desk within the next few hours. Whoo hoo!

Ten days, later, back home in Woodstock, my time in India having ended, I over-nighted Prem my deck of cards.

According to my new, improved, I've-just-returned-from-India-and-am-clearer-now-than-ever calculations, I figured I'd get a reply from him in a month or so. Two, at the most. After all, I reasoned, my letter, clearly written and brief, was in direct response to a very real need he had expressed and I, having ALREADY created the deck, just happened to be at the right place at the right time. These things happen. They do. There was no denying that. Magic was afoot. I could feel it in my bones.

Eighteen months passed. That's 540 days -- about the time it takes for an elephant to give birth. I got no response. Not a peep -- an outcome, I figured, that wasn't all that surprising, given Prem's insane travel schedule, non-stop events, and who knows how many other thousands of letters he'd received from people during that time, some of whom were probably dying or had much better ideas to pitch him than I did.

Oh well... this wasn't the first time I'd written a letter to him and gotten no response. And it probably wasn't going to be the last. As they say in the old country, "obla di, bla da."

So there I am, in LA, at the Words of Peace expo, after MC'ing one of Prem's events, when, out of the corner of my eye, I see one of his main assistants approaching me at high velocity from across the room and beckoning me with one finger, as if to say, "Drop everything and follow me now!"

Falling into step behind this moment's messenger, the two of us weaved our way through several security checkpoints until we found ourselves, parting a curtain, and approaching Prem who was standing backstage, surrounded by four very smiling people.

It was totally still where he was standing. Absolutely quiet -- the unblinking eye of a storm.

"Hi Mitch," he says, sharing a few pleasantries with me. "I got your letter."

I have no idea what he's talking about. None.

"Letter," I think to myself. "Letter? What letter? Did I write a letter?"

Prem just keeps looking at me. It's my move, but I have no moves, just the beginning of a vague remembrance of a letter I wrote some time ago, I think, in India, but could not, for the life of me, remember what it was about. So... I... er... uh... um... just made something up and blurted it out.

"NO!" he said. "Not that. TEAMWORK!"

Now, here, at this precise crossroads of time and space, is where things took a turn for me. Not a left turn. Not a right turn. And not a U-Turn, either. No. The kind of a turn leaves make when the seasons change or someone, shivering, turns to the sun.

You see, the deck I had sent him a year and a half ago was composed of 72 cards, six of which were totally blank except for the titles -- those six cards focused on topics I wasn't yet knowledgeable enough to write about. Prem chose THIS moment to talk about one of those cards. More specifically, the card on PLANNING. Eighteen months had passed from the moment I had mailed him my letter. He remembered. I did not. But as he spoke, it was as if no time had passed. We had entered the timeless place. The gap between sending and receiving, it was now plain to see, was only in my mind -- a gap made all the longer by the story I had told myself about the experience.

It's at moments like this where the perspective of Indian cosmology comes in handy. As I understand it, in the Indian tradition, the in-breath and out-breath God, known as "yugas," are each 20,000 years long. Interesting, eh? 20,000 years for God to take a complete in-breath and another 20,000 years to exhale. Me? My life is marked by a very different kind of cycles. Like "tomorrow," for example, and "next Thursday" or if I'm really feeling long-term, "a year from now."

Eighteen months? Not only isn't it a drop in the bucket, it's not even a molecule in the drop.

Looking back, I guess you could say that my letter-writing-to-Prem experience represents only 14 years of the 20,000 required for God to take an in-breath which, I guess, leaves me just 19,986 years short of a complete inhalation. Maybe by that time my deck of cards will be complete.

PremRawat.com

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 10:12 PM | Comments (0)

September 11, 2019
Prem Rawat in 3 Minutes or Less

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There's a lot of things you can do in three minutes. You can check your email. You can channel surf. And you can boil an egg. You can also watch one of videos below featuring Prem Rawat talking about something beyond time. Hmmm...

The Greatest Form of Prayer (:24)
This Blooming Called Peace (2:39)
Hang on to the Good (:50)
Simple Yet Valuable (1:09)
Singular in Nature (1:49)

Photo: Courtesy of TimelessToday
PremRawat.com

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 06:06 AM | Comments (0)

September 09, 2019
Prem Rawat in Six Minutes or Less

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Lots of people I know are intrigued about Prem Rawat and his message of peace. Their interest to find out more is alive and well, but their lives are busy and they don't always have the time to follow up on their interest. And so, for all my time-crunched friends, here you go: five brief videos of Prem (all less than 360 seconds), culled from the many good ones on TimelessToday. Go for it!

Five Seconds of Heaven (2:37)
Simple Strategy (3:50)
Investing in Yourself (5:48)
What Life Wants to Show You (4:00)
A Powerful Force (3:15)

About Prem Rawat
Photo: Courtesy of TimelessToday

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 03:16 AM | Comments (1)

September 08, 2019
How Young Children See Love

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A group of professionals asked a bunch of 4 - 8 year-olds, "What does love mean?" The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. Take a look...

"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love."-- Rebecca, 8

"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth." -- Billy, 4

"Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other." -- Karl, 5

"Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs." -- Chrissy, 6

"Love is what makes you smile when you're tired." -- Terri, 4

"Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK." -- Danny, 7

"Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My Mommy and Daddy are like that." -- Emily, 8

"Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen." -- Bobby, 7

"If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate." -- Nikka, 6

"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday." -- Noelle, 7

"Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well." -- Tommy, 6

"During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore." -- Cindy, 8

"My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night." -- Clare, 6

"Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken." -- Elaine, 6

"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford." -- Chris, 7

"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day." -- Mary Ann, 4

"I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones." -- Lauren, 4

"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you." -- Karen, 7

"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross." -- Mark, 6

"You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget." -- Jessica, 8

And the the winner was a four-year old whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, "Nothing, I just helped him cry."

And happiness, too!

Big thanks to Carola Polakov for the heads up

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 02:21 PM | Comments (0)

September 05, 2019
Long Before Words

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Being of the Jewish persuasion, I'm not exactly the kind of person given to confession, but allow me the ecumenical luxury of confessing at least one thing in this first paragraph of what may well turn out to be the Mahabharata of blog postings:

Writing about Prem Rawat and the gift that he offers is not easy.

It's not easy for a few reasons.

First off, what I want to say existed long before words -- long before nouns and verbs and the leaky vessels we construct to float our shaky boats of babble. Secondly, words are approximations of the real thing at best. Like menus, they indicate something's cooking in the kitchen, but they are not the food itself. And thirdly, the dog ate my homework.

I don't know how it works, but there are years of my life I can barely remember, but seconds with Prem that remain a vast eternity, indelibly impressed on my heart like some kind of rock 'n roll Rosetta stone.

I never laugh so hard or cry so long as when I'm in his company. I never feel so good.

The first time I heard about him, I was both ecstatic and afraid -- ecstatic at the thought I might finally experience what I'd been born for -- afraid that somehow, grand impostor that I was, I would be the only person on the face of the Earth not to get it. Forget it. I got it.

Yes, that moment happened -- the moment of oooh, the moment of ahhh -- the moment of finally coming into my own after years of imagining my own was someplace very far away -- in a forest, cave, or future lifetime.

What has he taught me? How to wake up -- and stay awake. How to appreciate. How to feel. How to simply be.

What Prem Rawat offers is not so much a teaching as it is transportation to the place we've either been seeking our entire lives or have given up on long ago -- the place of no judgment, the place of no doubt, the place of no worry, no fear, no problem.

Here! The place of remembering. And what we remember here is love -- plain and simple. For love is the name of the game. Always was and always will be.

Photo: TimelessToday
PremRawat.com
VIDEO: The Most Precious Diamond

Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at 09:46 PM | Comments (3)

Welcome to Mitch Ditkoff's blog about what's really important in this life: Peace, gratitude, love, joy, clarity, and the effort required to wake up and smell the roses. Enjoy!

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