Yesterday morning my wife and I had been visiting an ayurvedic doctor, together with a friend, who had told us about him. We had decided to go there without further ado. He was running a shop with Indian articles, but did not advertise himself at all as a specialist of Ayurveda, the old Indian science of health (ayur: life, veda: knowledge, wisdom). We waited in a back-room, while he was treating another person. We had stepped from out of Berlin into India: A big statue of Shiva was greeting us, and on the walls were pictures of other Indian gods.
The doctor, a young gentleman in the 30ies, modest, but alert, took my hand without saying much and felt my pulse for some minutes, then described correctly my health problems which I hadn’t mentioned him before. I had attended to them over a longer period with homoeopathy, then with bio-resonance, with certain, but not satisfying, results.
I know a bit about Ayurveda in theory – I had done the German translation of a book on Ayurveda by Dr. E. Krishnamacharya some 14 years ago, but never had met an ayurvedic doctor. On the basis of his diagnosis he gave some dietetic recommendations and said he could give some Ayurvedic medicines. He said it was quite difficult to get the ingredients, and some of the preparations take months of work in accordance with certain rhythms and constellations. He normally goes once a year to India to get them. He is from a family with an age-long tradition of ayurvedic doctors. He told us that here in the West there is much wellness-activities in the name of Ayurveda and that every few weeks he is asked if he would come and join some clinic projects, but he always declined. He prefers working in his silent way, and that he doesn’t want the knowledge to be lost when a big advertisement and business is run with it. It gave me the picture that here, hiding behind a mask of a shabby outside, in the back-rooms of a shop, there was a diamond of great worth. He explained me how we could continue the treatment after my return back to Switzerland and we agreed to meet him again before leaving.
The meeting had left in me a deep impression, ans so I have started making a health-experiment along ayurvedic lines.

Yesterday I got a mail from a friend from Berlin, who told me that the mother of a common friend of us just had died. The three of us had come into a deeper contact during seminars of our spiritual teacher in India, and both friends are stewardesses of Lufthansa. Our common friend had been taken a lot of time going from Berlin to Kiel in North Germany to accompany her mother during the last phases of her illness, having had an intense relation with her.
It reminded me of the pass-over of my mother eight months ago and how my father, a believing Christian, but at the same time with a materialistic outlook, was moved experiencing that suddenly there was just a body where before his beloved wife, my mother, had been, and since then he started establishing an inner contact with her. For me, though knowing from out of the depth of my being that we as souls are immortal, nevertheless was deeply touched by the experience of the passing-over.
Another friend of mine told me two days ago about the work her group is doing in sensibilizing personalities in public positions about the unhygenic tradition of burying dead bodies into the earth instead of cremating. Milliards of bodies are thus rotting in the soil, creating poisonous effects. And also milliards of people, in this age called by the wisdom teachings the dark age, are living in the belief that these dead bodies have to remain in the ground to be awakened one day for ressurrections – what a deep illusion about the nature of man’s soul.
For many the soul doesn’t exist, they believe in the Darwinian evolution of matter and the survival of the fittest human apes, a belief stemming from a similar ignorance, just like believing that the pixels on the screen of my computer are fighting in a survival of the fittest to form the sentences – ignoring that there is a consciousness forming the shapes and also having created the facilities for their manifestation – many different expressions of consciousness. In consciousness, there are grades and transitions, from gross to subtle, but not endings.
A very beautiful expression of this are the sublime photos I yesterday saw on the website of Missoury Skies, of rainbows, the expression of the bond between the gross and the subtle worlds.