All Blog Articles, arranged here by Year and Month.

The Power of Now: Navigating Pressures and Making Conscious Choices

Every choice we make occurs in the fleeting moment called "Now." It's in this present instant that we respond to countless pressures from all directions. Many of these choices are not conscious; they are reactions based on patterns we’ve accumulated over a lifetime. But what if, in that single moment, we could make truly conscious choices? It takes as much practice to make intentional choices as we’ve invested in our unconscious responses, shaped by the world around us.

To understand what we face in that "Now," I created a visual representation years ago, illustrating the influences on our choices. This image took the form of an X-shaped quadrant, with "Now" at its centre, and each quadrant reflecting a distinct aspect of the pressures we navigate.

In the top quadrant lies the **macro-universe**, symbolizing our planet’s place in the vastness of the galaxy. Forces in this macro-world, like the gravitational pull of the moon or the cycles of solar activity, impact us directly. While these forces may seem distant, they can subtly influence our emotions and physical well-being, much as the moon affects ocean tides. We feel the interconnectedness of these forces every day, as we respond to their invisible pull without realizing it.

Opposite this, in the bottom quadrant, I represented the **micro-universe**. This space symbolizes everything happening within us: the ceaseless activity of microbes, bacteria, and chemical reactions that keep us alive. We often notice this influence only when something goes awry, perhaps when we feel ill or exceptionally energetic. The balance or imbalance within us is ever-changing, driven by forces within our bodies that we cannot directly control in each moment, yet profoundly affecting our choices and responses.

The **right quadrant** brings us closer to home, symbolizing the **physical environment** we inhabit. Whether it's a lush forest, a bustling urban centre, a mountain, or a shoreline, our surroundings shape how we feel and respond. This influence becomes particularly pronounced when drastic changes like natural disasters, war, or famine disrupt our surroundings. Climate change, too, has brought these disruptions closer to us all, reminding us of the interconnectedness of our environment and its impact on us.

Finally, the **left quadrant** represents **societal pressures**. These pressures stem from our roles within family, work, and community, influenced by norms, traditions, and histories that shape every society. Each of us is affected by the expectations and boundaries of the society we live in, whether we’re aware of it or not. Our position within our families, workplaces, and larger communities all create pressures that shape our decisions and responses in the "Now."

Together, these four influences—the macro-universe, micro-universe, physical environment, and societal norms—combine at every moment. We are often unaware of even a fraction of these influences pressing upon us. So how do we make conscious decisions amid this bombardment?

This is where the practice of self-awareness comes into play. Conscious choice begins with knowing oneself. Socrates famously said, "Know thyself," and this wisdom remains as relevant today as it was centuries ago. If we truly understand who we are, it becomes easier to identify our strengths and avoid falling prey to our weaknesses. This self-knowledge allows us to pause, recognize the pressures we face, and make decisions based on our values, not our reactions.

So, what are the strengths that define us as human beings? At our best, we embody love, joy, empathy, kindness, clarity, generosity, and forgiveness. When we lose sight of who we are, we fall back on fear, anger, ego, greed, hate, and blame. These negative traits cloud our choices, leading us away from our true selves.

In the "Now," the most powerful moment we have, we can decide to cultivate our human strengths. We can practice awareness, transforming reaction into choice, and each choice can reinforce the best of who we are. Knowing ourselves also brings a profound realization: every other person is, in essence, just like us. Each of us is made of the same basic elements, alive only for a brief time. This shared humanity is a call to be compassionate, to be kind, and to choose our strengths over our weaknesses.

When we embrace this understanding, we don’t just make better choices for ourselves. We set an example, creating a ripple effect of conscious, compassionate choices that can influence the world around us. In each moment, we have the power to choose, and that power begins with knowing who we are and the humanity we share. Let us be human, in the fullest sense of the word, and make choices that reflect our highest selves.

Being Comfortable with Myself: Is That Possible?

The question of being comfortable with oneself is something many of us wrestle with at some point. For me, the answer depends on a deeper inquiry: Do I know who I am? And, in truth, it's not as easy as it seems to reach that answer. Society tends to chase us from one role to another—husband, wife, father, mother, son, daughter, employee, employer, friend, and so on. It’s a relentless cycle of playing parts, each one demanding its own set of expectations and behaviours. The constant pressure of these roles often makes it difficult to simply be me, to figure out who I am beneath all those layers.

Amid all this, how do I even begin to find out who I am? And do I have the time to indulge in that kind of deep search? Life, as it is, is full of commitments. I’ve got places to go, people to see, responsibilities to fulfil. My to-do list doesn’t leave much room for self-reflection. On some days, I barely have time to sleep, much less contemplate who I am at the core of it all.

Or do I?

As with most things in life, it comes down to priorities. What is most important to me right now? What needs my attention at this moment? The truth is, when I choose to prioritize self-understanding, I realize that I actually *do* have time for that search. More importantly, I find that everything else I have to do—my responsibilities, relationships, and commitments—falls into place when I am clear about who I am. Life becomes simpler, and the sense of being “chased” begins to ease.

In fact, I do things better when I have clarity about who I am. When I stop trying to fit into all the prescribed roles and instead just be myself, everything flows more naturally. It’s a lesson that takes time to learn, but it’s worth it. I’ve found that when I make an effort to remain conscious of my own being, life becomes more manageable, even amidst all the complexity. That realization brings a huge sense of relief and, over time, a growing sense of comfort within myself.

Looking back on my life, I’ve gone through a lot of changes, both externally and internally. I’ve moved at least 60 times, worked countless jobs, and encountered more people and situations than I can count. For a long time, I thought that sense of rootlessness was something negative, a sign that I wasn’t grounded in who I was. But recently, I’ve come to a different understanding. The saying “home is where I hang my hat” has become a reality for me. I realize that, in all these shifts and changes, I have, in fact, been finding my own sense of home—within myself.

In many ways, I suppose I have become more comfortable with myself. It’s not to say that the journey is over or that I’ve fully arrived at some ultimate destination of self-understanding. There’s still a long way to go. But the important thing is that I feel encouraged to keep making the effort. The more I focus on being conscious—of who I am and what I am doing—the more life opens up to me. The more I realize that I can be who I am and still fulfil all my commitments. It doesn’t have to be a constant chase from one role to the next.

When I prioritize knowing myself, I begin to live life on my own terms. I am able to see more clearly what truly matters, and I can let go of what doesn’t. It’s a process, and it takes time, but the benefits are immense. Clarity, peace, and comfort within myself—these are the rewards of consciously choosing to be myself, no matter where I am or what I am doing. And for me, that makes all the difference.

Living Masters and Prophets: What's that all about?

I have read and researched a lot of different texts on the subject of past spiritual teachers and have come to the conclusion that there are two distinct groups; Living Masters and Prophets. So what is the difference, in my view?

Key Distinctions:

1. Role and Function:

   • Living Masters: Primarily focus on guiding individuals toward inner peace and self-realization, offering practical methods like meditation, self-inquiry, or devotion to achieve a direct experience of the divine. They encourage personal spiritual transformation without reliance on intermediaries or strict external doctrines.
   • Prophets: Serve as divine messengers, often delivering God’s law, prophecy, or warnings to a nation or group. Their focus is more on guiding communities through external commandments, prophecy, and legal or moral instructions, often tied to specific historical events.

2. Focus on Inner vs. Outer Guidance:

   • Living Masters: Encourage individuals to look within for the divine, often downplaying external rituals or social hierarchies. They teach that peace and fulfilment come from internal spiritual awakening and direct experience of God or truth.
   • Prophets: Primarily provide external guidance in the form of laws, commandments, or moral teachings, often emphasizing obedience to divine authority. Their teachings are typically directed at the behaviour of the community or nation, with a focus on collective morality and divine judgment.

3. Teaching Methods:

   • Living Masters: Use meditation, contemplation, and direct spiritual practice to guide individuals to their own spiritual realization.
   • Prophets: Use revelations, miracles, and divine visions to communicate their message, often with a focus on societal change or guiding a nation back to righteousness.

This comparison highlights the different roles played by "Living Masters" and "Prophets." While both groups provided crucial spiritual guidance, their methods and focuses diverge: Living Masters primarily lead people toward personal spiritual awakening, while Prophets often act as intermediaries between God and the people, offering moral, legal, or prophetic guidance to communities or nations. Both have played essential roles in spiritual history, but their approach to teaching and guiding humanity reflects different priorities—inner peace and personal realization for Masters, and external law and communal guidance for Prophets.

Jesus of Nazareth

This historical person is seen as offering both aspects:

• Living Master: Jesus taught about the "Kingdom of God within" and focused on personal transformation, love, forgiveness, and direct connection with the divine. His emphasis on inner transformation and spiritual rebirth fits the Living Master tradition.
• Prophet: Jesus is also traditionally regarded as a prophet, especially in the Abrahamic religions, delivering divine messages and guiding communities. His role as a messenger of God and the "Son of God" places him in the prophetic category as well.

Jesus’ teachings embody aspects of both Living Master and Prophet roles, so he can be placed in either column depending on interpretation. His message, emphasizing both inner transformation and external divine guidance, spans the two categories, making him a unique figure in this comparison. For his disciples (excluding Saul/Paul, who came along later), Jesus was seen as a Living Master. The role of Prophet was assigned to the later interpreters.

 Examples:

Of course, this list is not to be understood as exhaustive. It is a selection to make the comparison.

The title "Living Master" emphasises that the role is directed towards those who are also alive at the same time. So we speak of disciples or followers. A dead Master is hard to follow, as he is not around to correct and advices. The classical example of what I mean is this: if you are ill, you will not go to the grave of a great doctor to find help. You want one who can check you out now and is alive to offer a diagnosis and possible solutions. A prophet, on the other hand, leaves commandments and rules, which are valid after his/her death.

Who Am I? A Reflection on Identity and Breath

Who am I? This is a question I’ve been reflecting on more deeply since starting a course to become a prison visitor. As part of the course, we explore the concept of identity, and it’s sparked some fascinating conversations among the diverse group of participants. It’s interesting to hear the variety of views on such a fundamental topic.

We were introduced to a framework that attempts to explain identity through several components: "Corporeality," or our physical body; "Social Relationships," which encompass our connections to others; "Work and Performance," how we view ourselves in relation to what we do; "Values and Ideals," and how we shape them; and finally, "Material Security," or our sense of stability. While these aspects play a significant role in our lives, they don’t define who I am.

When I came into this world, I had no name and no awareness of any of these aspects. But I was alive. Over time, I began to experience life—first through my body, and then through relationships with others: parents, siblings, and eventually society’s labels of gender, race, and other distinctions. Work, values, and security came later. But does all of that add up to who I am?

Throughout my 77 years, each of these elements has evolved. My body has changed, my relationships have transformed, and I’ve lived in different places and held various jobs. There have been times of material abundance and times of scarcity. My values have developed over time as well. But the constant has always been me—something beyond the ever-shifting aspects of life.

For many, there’s a tendency to hold onto an image of themselves when they felt they were at their best, but I focus on a deeper understanding of who I am. I’ve come to see myself as an unfolding miracle. It all comes back to breath. My first breath signified my entry into life, and each breath since has sustained me. It’s an effortless, miraculous process that happens in the present moment. I can’t store it or control how many I have, and without it, I wouldn’t be here.

For me, the key to understanding who I am lies in that breath. I don’t rely on what others say or believe—I focus on knowing, based on my own experience. Becoming aware of my breath generates a feeling of deep gratitude. Everything I’ve lived, all the changes in relationships, work, and material security, are secondary to that simple, yet profound fact of being alive.

That recognition influences how I live now. I do my best to be conscious of this miracle, and it allows me to appreciate life fully. It’s a truth shared by everyone, and I try to recognize it in the people I meet. Understanding that we all share this experience shapes how I engage with others, particularly as I embark on this journey of becoming a prison visitor.

Action and Reaction: Which is More Important?

It’s fascinating to reflect on the concept of action and reaction. Einstein once pointed out that every action has consequences, and I’ve noticed how we, as humans, often miss the crucial point. When something goes wrong, we tend to focus on the consequences rather than on the original action that set the chain of events in motion. In doing so, we rarely draw the right conclusions, and instead of changing the actions that led to negative outcomes, we scramble to alter or fix the consequences.

A perfect example of this can be seen wherever "blame" takes place. Take a workplace scenario: there’s a missed deadline, and immediately fingers start pointing. One person might blame another for not delivering their part on time, while someone else might point to external factors, like a client’s last-minute changes. Rarely does anyone stop to think about how their own actions might have contributed to the problem. Maybe I didn’t communicate clearly, or perhaps I overlooked a potential issue that I could have resolved earlier. It’s always easier to shift responsibility outward, but the truth is, no problem exists in isolation. It's part of a larger sequence of actions and reactions, where I often play a role as the originator.

I think back to a time in my own life when I found myself struggling in a relationship. There were frequent misunderstandings, which led to escalating arguments. Initially, I blamed the other person for not listening or for being unreasonable. Yet, as time passed, I began to notice a pattern: I was often the one starting the arguments. My insecurities or frustrations with myself were fuelling the conflicts, but instead of acknowledging that, I directed my energy toward trying to fix the relationship through external means. I focused on changing the reaction, whether through improving communication or seeking compromise, when the real issue was with my own actions. It took time to recognize that the change had to come from within me first—how I responded to my emotions, how I expressed myself, and how I interacted with the other person.

That kind of self-reflection is hard. We don't like to admit that our actions might be the root cause of our problems. It’s far easier to blame external factors or others around us. In fact, it’s almost ingrained in us to do so. As I’ve observed, society rarely encourages us to take responsibility for our own actions. Instead, we are pressured to avoid mistakes at all costs, which is unrealistic because mistakes are an inevitable part of being human. Society holds up this impossible standard of what it means to be a “perfect” person. We're supposed to be flawless workers, loving partners, diligent parents, and model citizens. But in striving for perfection, we often end up ignoring our own uniqueness and fallibility, leading us further away from honest self-assessment.

Looking back, I can see how indoctrination from childhood plays a big role in this. Growing up, I was taught to strive for success, to aim for perfection in everything I did. There was little room for error, and making a mistake felt like failure. Over time, I began to internalize the belief that I couldn’t afford to admit when I was wrong or had made an error in judgment. But the reality is, perfection doesn’t exist, and those societal standards of success are arbitrary at best. As a result, being honest with myself and admitting when I’ve made a mistake has always been difficult. It’s uncomfortable to say, “Yes, this is my fault,” and even more challenging to ensure that I don’t repeat the same actions in the future.

Take another example: health and fitness. There was a time when I was struggling with my health, and I kept blaming the food industry, my busy schedule, and even genetics. But the truth was, I wasn’t taking proper care of myself. I wasn’t being mindful of what I ate or how little I exercised. I was reacting to the negative consequences of poor health by looking for external solutions—new diets, supplements, or excuses—when I should have focused on the original action: my own habits. When I finally shifted my focus and took responsibility, I could see where change needed to happen. It wasn’t easy, but it was the only way forward.

In the end, I’ve come to realize that action is far more important than reaction. If I can be more aware of the actions I take in the first place, I won’t need to spend as much time trying to fix the consequences. It’s about learning to be honest with myself, recognizing where I went wrong, and making a conscious effort to change those actions before they snowball into problems. The truth is, that’s much harder to do than it sounds, but it’s essential for growth. Blame and avoidance won’t get me anywhere. Real change only happens when I look at myself as the originator.

By focusing on action rather than reaction, I’ve learned to take more responsibility for the consequences in my life, and that has been the key to real, lasting change.

Who Are You, Really?

I am frequently astounded by the superficiality of people. Every day, we hear reports of the increasing mental health problems among people of all ages. It's become a crisis. And yet, despite this alarming trend, very few people seem to make any real effort to understand where these problems originate. It’s as though we are all sleepwalking through life, accepting what we’re told, unaware of the deeper truths we could explore.

The thing is, if you have no idea who you are, you automatically assume that you are what others tell you. Ask a person, "Who are you?" and they will give you their name, their profession, their marital status, their nationality. But is that really who they are? Think about it. None of those things were in their control when they were born. You didn’t choose your name, your gender, your skin color, or even where you were born. You didn’t know what these things even meant. All of that came later, as you were indoctrinated by your surroundings. Yet, we grow up and believe this collection of labels and roles define us.

We are not taught about the limitations of thought. Thought is always about the past or the future; it's never about the present moment. And because we can't truly understand the present except in terms of what we've been through or what's coming, we end up constructing a reality that is based on memories or anticipations, not what's actually here and now.

A classic example is what happens when we die. Think about how many theories there are. Some believe in paradise or hell. Others think we reincarnate and keep coming back, while still others hold onto bizarre ideas like moving to a purple planet in another galaxy. But where's the proof? Where is the real knowing? There are countless ideas, but the fact is, nobody knows. If we do come back, why don't we remember who we were before? What’s the point of coming back if you have no recollection of the past?

Some claim to know, but it's just that—a claim. Not proof. I’ve met a lot of people who believe they understand death, or claim to have seen something beyond, but as Carl Sagan pointed out in his "Pale Blue Dot" speech, we are but a speck in the grand scale of the cosmos. A tiny, invisible speck that we continue to insist is the center of the universe. We’ve convinced ourselves that we are so important that the entire fabric of existence revolves around us. But the universe is vast, endless. Space itself is incomprehensible, so vast that we can’t even begin to grasp its boundaries. And yet, here we are, with our tiny brains, pretending we can understand the infinite, pretending we can explain everything through belief.

Look at the mess we've made because of our beliefs. Humans, over time, have tried to manage and control their world through belief systems. Religion, politics, economics—all are constructs that help us feel like we have a handle on things. But just look around. We’re killing ourselves and the planet because of these very beliefs. Environmental destruction, wars, hatred—what are these if not the product of deeply held but completely misguided beliefs? We cling to ideas about who we are, what we should be doing, and where we are going, without ever stopping to question the validity of those ideas.

This is where unlearning comes in. We have to stop assuming we know everything when, clearly, we don't. The place to start is with ourselves—back to basics. Strip away the labels, the titles, the professions, and the nationalities. Strip away the thoughts about the future and the past, and focus on the present moment.

What do we know for sure? We are alive. But what does that even mean? We believe we are alive because of our own efforts, our intelligence, our accomplishments. But that’s nonsense. The most fundamental aspect of life is breath, yet how many of us are conscious of that? We are being breathed by something far greater than ourselves. If we had to manage that, we’d all be dead in seconds. We do nothing for this breath, but without it, we are nothing.

Here’s where the divine comes in. Look in the mirror, and what do you see? You see a person who is alive—not through any effort of your own, but through a miraculous process that just *is.* That is the only real miracle in life. And what do we do with that miraculous gift? Nothing. We don’t even notice it. The breath is the first and last thing in life. Anyone who has witnessed a birth knows this: the first breath a baby takes is the moment of life. And anyone who has been present at a death knows this too: the last breath is the end. The cycle is so simple, yet so profound, and we ignore it every single day.

We spend our time chasing goals, living by labels, clinging to beliefs. But have we ever taken the time to understand who we really are? Most of us are living someone else’s idea of a life. So many people go through life in a haze, believing they are their job, their relationship status, their possessions. All of these things are temporary and external.

To truly understand life, we have to make the effort to know ourselves before it’s too late. The way we’re going, most of us will "pop our clogs," as the British say, never having figured out who we really are. But it doesn’t have to be that way. We have the power to unlearn all the lies, to shed the labels, and to return to the simplicity of being alive. That’s where the real miracle lies—not in the future, not in the past, but in the present, in the breath, in the experience of being alive.

The Purpose of Life: Doing Good from Within

The purpose of life, for me, is to do good. But that statement has evolved in meaning over time as I've come to understand what doing good really means, both outwardly and inwardly. It's not just about performing acts of kindness or generosity, though those certainly play a role. It’s about being in alignment with what truly matters, and from that space, helping others in a way that feels natural and effortless.

For years, I sought to make sense of the world around me, often feeling lost in the noise of modern life. But over time, and with the guidance of teachers like Prem Rawat, Guru Nanak, Ramakrishna and others, I've come to see that doing good starts within. How can we offer peace, love, or joy to others if we haven’t cultivated those qualities inside ourselves? This is where my journey has taken me—toward an inner peace that I practice every day. The more connected I am to that clarity, the more capable I feel of genuinely helping others.

Doing good, for me, doesn’t have to be dramatic. It’s in the small, meaningful actions: volunteering at a hospice, offering to help with someone’s groceries, or just sitting down to have a conversation with someone who needs it. Recently, I’ve been exploring opportunities to become a prison visitor and hope to bring the Peace Education Programme to people who might benefit from it. I don’t see these actions as obligations or duties, but as natural extensions of the gratitude I feel for being alive and in touch with what really matters.

It’s taken me a long time to understand that doing good isn’t about seeking recognition or trying to fulfil an external idea of what’s expected. It’s about tapping into that quiet space within, which I’ve been cultivating for almost 50 years now, and letting goodness flow from there. As I’ve let go of things like greed and the pursuit of material desires, I’ve found myself more able to share my time, my attention, and my resources with others. Life has become less about accumulating and more about giving back.

Ultimately, doing good is my way of honouring the gift of life. I have been fortunate enough to find peace and clarity, and it feels natural to want to share that with others.

Letting Go of Illusions: A Path to Inner Peace and Clarity for me

Over 22 years ago, I noticed that I was getting angrier and angrier at the incompetent drivers I encountered so frequently and decided that, as they were not going to change, I would have to change. I gave my car to my daughter, who had just passed her driving test. I have never regretted it. I have now decided to stop reading the news headlines for similar reasons - I don't like the effect it has on me. It distracts me from what I really want to focus on: my experience of peace and clarity.

Clarity has shown me what is truly meant by the term "Maya". The illusion that others follow have no attraction for me any more.

Yesterday I had a meeting with a person working in a small hospice, where the focus is on what really matters - people. Later I met an old lady who is suffering from initial memory loss, and she wanted to donate money to me as a present. I declined - I have everything I need. So my next steps are volunteering at the hospice and becoming a prison visitor. That makes sense to me as a human being.

I have to bridge the gap between now and when I can actually start these tasks.

I think I'll put some effort into music-making with the software I have. I'm looking for a suitable theme to inspire me. Currently, I am reading about the life and teachings of Guru Nanak, who clearly sees the world in the same way as me, but with a great deal more commitment and clarity than I have - just as Prem Rawat does. The more I read and the more I listen, the clearer things become. Letting go of all I know of this world is a lot tougher that I expected. Ramakrishna puts it succinctly by saying the problem is Lust and greed, in whatever form. And recently Lust has been less attractive than in the past and greed for things I have let go mostly, but there is always a remnant which isn't even noticed.

I describe this in the following way: here in Switzerland, many farms have the dung heap on a concrete base next to the house. Just as we have the crap inside of us. To get rid of that, I can take a pitchfork and get rid of the large heap fairly rapidly. Then there is a remnant, which can be swept up and removed, but then there are the deep brown stains on the base left to deal with. I can scour that with hot water and soap and more will be gone, but there are still some stains left, deep in the concrete and years old, and these are really hard to remove. What is that stain? They are the first bits of indoctrination we get as a baby, growing up: do this, don't do that, this is the right way, what will others think, etc. All these little bits of brainwashing we receive growing up, are so ingrained, that they are hard even to spot. And it is these that I expect the rest of my life to be concerned with.

Why bother? Because I treasure joy, peace and clarity far more than anything else.

“Enjoy this life; enjoy this time. Do not become alienated from the heart, from the joy, from the peace.” —Prem Rawat