THE BRAIN OF AN ELDERLY PERSON.

Enlightening information about the ‘aging’ of the brain.

Although your true self is never born, never ages, and never dies.

The director of the George Washington University College of Medicine argues that the brain of an elderly person is much more plastic than is commonly believed. At this age, the interaction of the right and left hemispheres of the brain becomes harmonious, which expands our creative possibilities. That is why among people over 60 you can find many personalities who have just started their creative activities.

Of course, the brain is no longer as fast as it was in youth. However, it wins in flexibility. That is why, with age, we are more likely to make the right decisions and are less exposed to negative emotions. The peak of human intellectual activity occurs at about 70 years old, when the brain begins to work at full strength.

Over time, the amount of myelin in the brain increases, a substance that facilitates the rapid passage of signals between neurons. Due to this, intellectual abilities are increased by 300% compared to the average.

And the peak of active production of this substance falls on 60-80 years of age. Also interesting is the fact that after 60 years, a person can use 2 hemispheres at the same time. This allows you to solve much more complex problems.

Professor Monchi Uri from the University of Montreal believes that the brain of an elderly person chooses the least energy-intensive path, cutting unnecessary and leaving only the right options for solving the problem. A study was conducted in which different age groups took part. Young people were confused a lot when passing the tests, while those over 60 made the right decisions.

Now let's look at the features of the brain at the age of 60-80. They are really rosy.

FEATURES OF THE BRAIN OF AN ELDERLY PERSON.

1. The neurons of the brain do not die off, as everyone around them says. Connections between them simply disappear if a person does not engage in mental work.

2. Absent-mindedness and forgetfulness appear due to an overabundance of information. Therefore, you do not need to focus your whole life on unnecessary trifles.

3. Beginning at the age of 60, a person, when making decisions, uses not one hemisphere at the same time, like young people, but both.

4. Conclusion: if a person leads a healthy lifestyle, moves, has a feasible physical activity and has full mental activity, intellectual abilities DO NOT decrease with age, but only GROW, reaching a peak by the age of 80-90 years.

So don't be afraid of old age. Strive to develop intellectually. Learn new crafts, make music, learn to play musical instruments, paint pictures! Dance! Take an interest in life, meet and communicate with friends, make plans for the future, travel as best you can. Don't forget to go to shops, cafes, concerts. Do not lock yourself alone—it is destructive for any person. Live with the thought: all the good things are still ahead of me!

A large study in the United States found that:

The most productive age of a person is from 60 to 70 years;

The 2nd most productive human stage is the age from 70 to 80 years old; 3rd most productive stage - 50 and 60 years old. Before that, the person has not yet reached his peak.

The average age of the Nobel Prize laureates is 62;

The average age of the presidents of the 100 largest companies in the world is 63 years;

The average age of pastors in the 100 largest churches in the United States is 71; 

The average age of dads is 76 years.

This confirms that a person's best and most productive years are between 60 and 80 years of age.

This study was published by a team of doctors and psychologists in the NEW ENGLAND JOURNAL OF MEDICINE. They found that at 60 you reach the peak of your emotional and mental potential, and this continues until you are 80. Therefore, if you are 60, 70 or 80 years old, you are at the best level of your life

* SOURCE: New England Journal of Medicine *.

Nothing Ever Happened

Jack Kerouac wrote to his former wife: ‘I have lots of things to teach you now, in case we ever meet, concerning the message that was transmitted to me under a pine tree in North Carolina on a cold winter moonlit night:

It said that Nothing Ever Happened, so don’t worry. It’s all like a dream.

Everything is ecstasy, inside. We just don’t know it because of our thinking-minds. But in our true blissful essence of mind is known that everything is all right forever and forever and forever. Close your eyes, let your hands and nerve-ends drop, stop breathing for 3 seconds, listen to the silence inside the illusion of the world, and you will remember the lesson you forgot, which was taught in immense milky way soft cloud innumerable worlds long ago and not even at all. It is all one vast awakened thing. I call it the golden eternity. It is perfect.

We were never really born, we will never really die. It has nothing to do with the imaginary idea of a personal self, other selves, many selves everywhere: Self is only an idea, a mortal idea. That which passes into everything is one thing. It’s a dream already ended.

There’s nothing to be afraid of and nothing to be glad about. I know this from staring at mountains months on end. They never show any expression, they are like empty space. Do you think the emptiness of space will ever crumble away? Mountains will crumble, but the emptiness of space, which is the one universal essence of mind, the vast awakenerhood, empty and awake, will never crumble away because it was never born.

The world you see is just a movie in your mind.

Rocks don’t see it.

Bless and sit down.

Forgive and forget.

Practice kindness all day to everybody and you will realize you’re already in heaven now.

That’s the story.

That’s the message.

Nobody understands it, nobody listens, they’re all running around like chickens with heads cut off. I will try to teach it but it will be in vain, s’why I’ll end up in a shack praying and being cool and singing by my woodstove making pancakes.'

Nisargadatta Maharaj Q&A

Dialogue between a visitor and Nisargadatta Maharaj (from I AM THAT)

Question: I come from a far off country. I had some inner experiences on my own and I would like to compare notes.

Maharaj: By all means. Do you know yourself?

Q: I know that I am not the body. Nor am I the mind.

M: What makes you say so?

Q: I do not feel I am in the body. I seem to be all over the place, everywhere. As to the mind, I can switch it on and off, so to say. This makes me feel I am not the mind.

M: When you feel yourself everywhere in the world, do you remain separate from the world? Or, are you the world?

Q: Both. Sometimes I feel myself to be neither mind nor body, but one single all-seeing eye. When I go deeper into it, I find myself to be all I see and the world and myself become one.

M: Very well. What about desires? Do you have any?

Q: Yes, they come, short and superficial.

M: And what do you do about them?

Q: What can I do? They come and go. I look at them. Sometimes I see my body and my mind engaged in fulfilling them.

M: Whose desires are being fulfilled?

Q: They are a part of the world I live in. They are just as trees and clouds are there.

M: Are they not a sign of some imperfection?

Q: Why should they be? They are as they are, and I am as I am. How can the appearance and disappearance of desires affect me? Of course, they affect the shape and content of the mind.

M: Very well. What is your work?

Q: I am a probation officer.

M: What does it mean?

Q: Juvenile offenders are let off on probation and there are special officers to watch their behaviour and to help them get training and find work.

M: Must you work?

Q: Who works? Work happens to take place.

M: Do you need to work?

Q: I need it for the sake of the money I like it because it puts me in touch with living beings.

M: What do you need them for?

Q: They may need me and it is their destinies that made me take up this work. It is one life, after all.

M: How did you come to your present state?

Q: Sri Ramana Maharshi's teachings have put me on my way. Then I met one Douglas Harding who helped me by showing me how to work on the 'Who am I?'

M: Was it sudden or gradual?

Q: It was quite sudden. Like something quite forgotten, coming back to one's mind. Or, like a sudden flash of understanding. 'How simple,' I said. 'How simple, I am not what I thought I am. I am neither the perceived nor the perceiver. I'm the perceiving only.

M: Not even the perceiving, but that which makes all this possible.

Q: What is love?

M: When the sense of distinction and separation is absent, you may call it love.

Q: Why so much stress on love between man and woman?

M: Because the element of happiness in it is so prominent.

Q: Is it not so in all love?

M: Not necessarily. Love may cause pain. You call it then compassion.

Q: What is happiness?

M: Harmony between the inner and the outer is happiness. On the other hand, self-identification with the outer causes suffering.

Q: How does self-identification happen?

M: The Self, by its nature knows itself only. For lack of experience whatever it perceives it takes to be itself. Battered, it learns to look out (Viveka) and to live alone (Vairagya). When right behaviour (uparati) becomes normal, a powerful inner urge (mumukshutva) makes it seek its source. The candle of the body is lighted and all becomes clear and bright (atmaprakash).

Q: What is the real cause of suffering?

M: Self-identification with the limited (vyaktitva). Sensations as such, however strong, do not cause suffering. It is the mind, bewildered by wrong ideas, addicted to thinking: 'I am this', ' I am that', that fears loss and craves gain and suffers when frustrated.

Q: A friends of mine, used to have horrible dreams night after night. Going to sleep would terrorise him. Nothing could help him.

M: Company of the truly good (Satsang) would help him.

Q: Life itself is a nightmare.

M: Noble friendship (Satsang) is the supreme remedy for all ills, physical and mental.

Q: Generally, one cannot find such friendship.

M: Seek within. Your own Self is your best friend.

Trust

 

When a cat falls out of a tree, it lets go of itself. The cat becomes completely relaxed, and lands lightly on the ground. But if a cat were about to fall out of a tree and suddenly make up its mind that it didn’t want to fall, it would become tense and rigid, and would be just a bag of broken bones upon landing.

In the same way, it is the philosophy of the Tao that we are all falling off a tree, at every moment of our lives. As a matter of fact, the moment we were born, we were kicked off a precipice, and we are falling, and there is nothing that can stop it.

So instead of living in a state of chronic tension, and clinging to all sorts of things that are actually falling with us because the whole world is impermanent, be like a cat. —Alan Watts

Your Many True Names...

Dearest Light, 

Compassionate Being, 

Wonderful Wisdom, 

Radiant Being, 

Inner Beauty Shining with Outer Beauty

Peacefulness

Wondrous One

Confident in Truth

Strong with the Strength of God

Powerful with the Power of God

Existing in Truth

Existing in Light

Divine Nature

Infinite Love

Beyond All Labels

MIND AND BODY

Please illustrate the connection between mind and body...

Have you ever noticed how the body obeys the thought? Think of food and
the body heads for the refrigerator. Think of entertainment and the legs
move toward the television set. With enough watchfulness you can see
how thoughts do indeed place the physical body wherever it finds itself,
for either benefit or harm. This insight arouses powerful motivation
for thinking only constructive thoughts.'"
                                   

— There is a Way Out, Vernon Howard

Sometimes all you can do is breathe...

 

Cleansing Prayer

 

Quote by Vernon Howard....

 "THE SLAVE"

Some students asked their teacher to tell them of an experience of his
with inquirers. The teacher began, 'I once met a slave. Though his
slavery was inward, it was just as binding as if he wore actual chains.
When I casually mentioned his plight he reacted as all slaves react.

His response was a combination of disbelief, scorn, bewilderment and
rejection. Had he been receptive, I could have helped him, for awareness
of slavery must precede freedom.'

The teacher continued, 'What awareness could have helped him? I could
have told him he was the slave of everyone he needed to impress, of
everyone he feared, of those he depended upon for psychological
security. He could have seen his enslavement to shame over past follies,
and could have understood how shame prevents understanding and freedom.'

The test of a man's teachability is to tell him about his chains and
watch how he takes it. —Vernon Howard

Marcus Aurelius

Is it your reputation that’s bothering you? But look at how soon we’re all forgotten. The abyss of endless time that swallows it all. The emptiness of all those applauding hands. —Marcus Aurelius

• • It is relieving, don't you think, to realize that there is nothing we must achieve according to the world's standards? Not reputation, fame, or fortune. Not even beauty or good looks. All of that is as dust in the wind. The only gold that is of lasting and peaceful value is — the shining gold of Truth...not gold which we can hold in our hand...but that which is held in the heart. 

    If we are bothered by our reputation — how other people see us...striving to "be" someone — there will be only pain. Our "reputation" may be so valuable to us — but what is it really? Our thoughts about other people's thoughts.

    Everything is internal. We live in a thought world — a mental world — and call it real. 

    These teachings allows us to see beyond the mental constructs — to what is Real.

    
    

    

    
    

    
    

Mark Twain (1835-1910) American Writer

"Nothing exists. All is a dream.

God—man—the world—the sun, the moon, the wilderness

of stars—a dream, all a dream; they have no existence.

Nothing exists save empty space—And you.… 

And you are not you—you have no body, no blood, no

bones, you are but a thought."

—Mark Twain, 'The Mysterious Stranger'

You can download and read the story that this quote came from here, for free: https://www.gutenberg.org/files/3186/3186-h/3186-h.htm

A Little Story

Here is a story just for you. It happens to be about a little girl. She could have been anyone’s child. She could have been you.

A BOUQUET OF LOVE

One bright sunny day, this little girl was picking wild flowers in a meadow. Feeling like she was the warmth of the sun, she gathered her bouquet of purple and gold brightness and ran to her father, offering him this bundle of spontaneous love. Her father saw only miserable weeds that set off his miserable hay fever. He shouted at her to get them out of the house, asking how could she be such a stupid little girl, and where was her consideration?

The little girl did not know what consideration was, so she had no idea where hers could be, and she was afraid to ask. She was sure that if she had any, she would not be stupid. She ran outside, no longer feeling like she was the warm yellow sun. Her brightness faded, she sat under a tree with her flowers, consoling them, assuring them they were in no way stupid, or else how could they be so beautiful? Then she planted each one in the earth again, telling them she was sorry she had taken them from their homes, and promised never to do so again. 

The little girl pondered this event as the years passed and somewhere in the angels’ singing, since angels are always singing to little girls and big girls and people of all ages, she heard a song of wisdom: You are not the doer. The fruits of your actions belong not to you, but to God. And the little girl, who by now lived in a bigger body, hugged that song to her, and it comforted her way back to the time when her father had shouted at her and into the future when her own and other people's songs would be shouts.

As the years passed, she learned from these shouts. Sometimes people shouted loudly, sometimes silently. Deep within the angels’ whispers, she discovered that all shouts come from fear and ignorance. People were afraid to feel, so they shouted. People were afraid to tell the truth, so they shouted. People were afraid to love and be loved, so they shouted. People were afraid, so they hid behind shouts that were loud and shouts that were silent, wearing the disguises that pass for love and intimacy. 

Time passed, as time has a way of doing, teaching what it teaches to those able to listen with their hearts. Time taught her to sing gentle songs, giving them away like candy. Once they were gone from her, she never looked back, knowing that gifts with strings attached were no gifts at all. 

One day, when the little girl lived in a body with skin that showed the passage of many lessons learned, she found she had become the bouquet of flowers. And people came from everywhere to catch the scent of her love. 

The angels will leave you to gather your own bouquet from this story, the way the little girl did. The joy of stories comes from listening with your heart. In this way, the story awakens the truth that lives inside you and that truth becomes your own. 

Be kind, gentle, and compassionate with yourself. Give to yourself that which you wish others would give to you. Remember that others are only mirrors, reflections of yourself. When you treat yourself with respect, you will see this reflected in beautiful shining mirrors all around you. 

Paul Gauguin

 In case the sun is not shining where you are today, or you can't find it in your heart and soul (even though it is always there)...here is a blast of light and color to remind you...

Paul Gauguin
By the Stream,Autumn, 1885.

Lin Chi, Zen Master Story

One of the greatest of Zen masters, Lin Chi, used to say, ”While I was young I was very fascinated by boating. I had one small boat, and I would go on the lake alone. For hours together I would remain there.

”Once it happened that with closed eyes I was in my boat meditating on the beautiful night. One empty boat came floating downstream and struck my boat. My eyes were closed, so I thought, ‘Someone is here with his boat, and he has struck my boat.’ 

"Anger arose. I opened my eyes and I was just going to say something to that man in anger, then I realized that the boat was empty. Then there was no way to move. To whom could I express the anger? The boat was empty. It was just floating downstream, and it had come and struck my boat. So there was nothing to do. There was no possibility to project the anger on an empty boat.”

So Lin Chi said, ”I closed my eyes. The anger was there, but finding no way out, I closed my eyes and just floated backward with the anger. And that empty boat became my realization. I came to a point within myself in that silent night. 

"That empty boat was my master. And now if someone comes and insults me, I laugh and I say, ‘This boat is also empty.’ I close my eyes and I go within.”

A Story from Monthly School Lesson "TOGETHER AS ONE"

THE LITTLE BROWN BIRD

Once upon a time there was a tiny brown bird hopping around in Mother Nature, eating little seeds and ruffling its feathers in the wind. And it was happy. 

It watched the grey bunnies, the striped chipmunks, fat earthworms, and bustling black beetles that were part of its world. And it was happy.

It listened to the birds singing, the leaves rustling in the wind, the squirrels chattering. And it was happy. 

One day, it heard a strange new sound and it looked all around with its tiny black eyes. What was that sound? Then the little bird saw it—a huge bird blazing with blue, turquoise, violet, green, and golden feathers with many eyes shining from its long tail. 

"What are you?" asked the little bird from its perch high above. 

"I am a peacock," the colorful bird replied. 

From that moment on, the little bird knew no peace, even though it lived in the center of beautiful Mother Nature, even though it was never hungry, even though the soft wind still blew and ruffled its tiny brown feathers. 

Finally, in despair, it went to Mother Nature and said, "Oh, Mother Nature, why did you make me so brown and small and ugly? Why can I not shine like the blazing peacock? Why do I not have many eyes glowing from a long feathery tail? Why must I be so unhappy?"

"Your unhappiness has nothing to do with the peacock, little brown bird," replied Mother Nature. "Do not act like a silly human being. You are unhappy only because you compare yourself. Stop comparing and your unhappiness will end. Be yourself. Be happy being you."

And the little bird listened very carefully with its little bird ears and opened its heart very wide so it could catch every word deep inside. 

And it went back to eating little seeds and ruffling its feathers in the wind. And it was happy. 

Thank you for being there so that I can be here.

Love now and always,

Indira & the angels

A GUARDIAN ANGEL STORY

THE GUARDIAN ANGEL

The angel had been bound to earth for hundreds of years, yet the angel lived in patience where time did not exist. For eons the angel had been speaking to humans, whispering words of love and encouragement into their ears. Most of the time, no one heard, though now and then, the angel saw in someone's eyes a glimmer of understanding.

    This angel was presently guarding a small child, whose skin was white as snow, though it was no fairy tale, for the child had been sick with some earthly disease for a long time. The child lay in a bed, blending into white sheets, surrounded by family members who were trying not to cry. And the child, who knew what courage was, whispered, “It is okay to cry because I am going away.”

    And the angel smiled and wrapped its love around the boy and touched the hearts of his parents, grandparents, and little brothers. As the angel touched their hearts, it knew the anguish in those hearts. The angel could have moved away, spared itself this pain, but it only moved closer, giving of its strength. The child's father forgot not to cry. Tears fell down his unshaven face. 

    The little boy wanted to reach up and touch that face one last time, but he had no strength. Sensing this, the unseen angel helped the boy raise his arm. As the child touched his father's scratchy wet face one last time, father and son felt a great peace, for the truth of tears is better than the pretense of smiles.

    Then the mother cradled her child in her arms. The grandparents cradled their own children, this mother and father. And the angel of God bound them all together with its love and spoke to the child, saying, “It is time.” The child heard a voice like bells and looked upon the face of the angel for the first time. The family could not see the angel, but they saw the years of pain and fighting the disease fade away as the child's face began to glow.

    “I will show you,” smiled the angel, forgetting everything now except the child. “Look!” The angel pointed to the light. Seeing the Light, the boy breathed a last sigh and closed his eyes in peace. 

    The angel departed with the soul essence of the child, guiding him to the Light. And the family was not alone. The room was alive with angels, embracing the family, whispering words of love, holding the sorrow, taking what pain they could unto themselves.

    As the angel guided the child to the Light, the angel felt the power of the Light, and longed to return to the Light, but its task was upon earth. The angel did not linger in pain or longing. It lovingly watched the boy merge into the Light, then turned and made its way back to earth.

    The angel did not stop to ask why, did not hesitate, did not question the way of the world or of God. It simply went on to its next task. It was just in time to catch a young teenager as she fell from a speeding car whose door had become unlatched.

    The girl would later tell a wondrous story of a being of light that caught her in its arms, saving her from the hard pavement of the road. And the angel was already gone, onto its next task, fully present in the moment.

    This story came to me in its entirety following the death of my young nephew, Sean, from leukemia. I was on tour in Europe at the time. When I received word that he had died, I sat down and wrote this story. It was a gift I received at his passing into another realm. When I returned home, I was told that although his father, my brother, was unable to make it to the hospital before Sean died, the nurses insisted, “But we saw you there, holding your son's hand and talking with him.”

AWAKENING

 AWAKENING

I shall lie my body down

Upon the soft warm earth

Now while I am alive!

I shall give my spirit birth

Now before I die! 

I shall fold the sky

Over my head

And let the stars 

Enter my eyes

Now while my blood is still red!

I shall not wait for my last breath

Before I lay me down to sleep

Forever, to die, to cry, to lie 

Beneath the deep 

Deep firmament

I shall kiss the earth and repent

In whispers to her alone

I shall sacredly atone

Hail Mary full of Grace!

Let me see thy holy face!

Now we see through a glass darkly

But then we shall see 

Even as we are seen

Tear away the holy veil!

Let me sip from the holy grail!

Spread a table before mine eyes

Of frankincense, gold, and myrrh

I shall anoint the child I AM with Light

And give her second sight

Wrap her in swaddling clothes

And lay her in a manger

There I shall kneel and honor her

For she is me and I am her

There I shall surrender

Both past and future

At the moment of my birth

At the hour of my death

My body shall desert me

And my spirit shall fly free.

A Grandfather Tree spoke to me...

While in the mountains, I once met an ancient and gnarled Grandfather tree. We spoke a long time, often in whispers, so no one else could hear. He told me tales of wisdom. He said many trees are dying now, their roots are not deep enough to reach water because the earth has grown hotter. His roots are so deep, he can always drink, so he sends healing energy to the earth and other trees, but he cannot save them all. I thanked him and promised I will not forget him and that his stories will continue to grow within me

St. John of the Cross

Perhaps you will find this as beautiful and meaningful as I do...

Verses on the Ecstasy of Deep Contemplation

Translated from the Spanish poem

by San Juan de la Cruz (St. John of the Cross) 1542-1591

I entered where I never knew,

and I was left without knowing,

transcending all knowledge.

I never knew where I was entering,

but when I found myself there,

without knowing where I was,

I understood important matters.

I don’t say what I felt,

for I was left without knowing,

transcending all knowledge.

It was the perfect knowledge of peace and piety,

a straight road well understood in deep solitude.

It was something so secret that I was left babbling,

transcending all knowledge.

I was drawn into it,

so absorbed and taken out of myself,

that my feeling was left devoid of all feeling

and my mind was endued with an understanding

by not understanding,

transcending all knowledge.

He who really reaches that point

faints away from himself, he scorns

all that he formerly knew;

and his knowledge increases so much

that he is left without knowing,

transcending all knowledge.

The higher one rises, the less one understands

what the shadowy cloud is

which brightens the night;

therefore he knows

it remains ever unknowing,

transcending all knowledge.

This unknowing knowledge is of such great power

that the scholars can never overcome it by arguing:

for their knowledge does not extend

to this non-understanding

transcending all knowledge.

And this highest way of knowing

is so completely superior

that there is no university

or science that can attempt it:

he who can overcome himself

by a knowing non-knowing will always be

transcending.

And if you want to listen, this highest knowledge

consists of a heightened perception of

the Divine Essence; it is a result of His mercy

to leave one not understanding,

transcending all knowledge.

Original name Juan de Yepes y Álvarez, (born June 24, 1542, Fontiveros, Spain—died December 14, 1591, Ubeda; canonized 1726; feast day December 14), one of the greatest Christian mystics and Spanish poets, doctor of the church, reformer of Spanish monasticism, and cofounder of the contemplative order of Discalced Carmelites. He is a patron saint of mystics and contemplatives and of Spanish poets.

https://www.britannica.com/biography/Saint-John-of-the-Cross