Yesterday a parcel with wisdom-books from India arrived, after a 3 month sea journey. Another parcel posted on the same day had arrived already a month ago. The parcel, sewn into a linnen wrapping and sealed with sealing wax, smelled orient. I had bought the books during my stay in India in January. It now arrived as a messenger from afar.

Three years ago I had started presenting the books of the WTT on the good-will website and distributing some of them for free to interested seekers, since it is nearly impossible to get these excellent books somewhere in the West. Some friends are supporting us financially in this work, and some of the recipients give a contribution.

I like very much this opportunity to come into contact with spiritual seekers, and fruitful contacts have thus developed. The requests come from all continents, thought sometimes there are immodest request, which I answer politely, but clearly.
Wisdom books cannot be eaten with spoons, and a speedy reading only causes indigestion. But used in the right way, with the right inner attitude, they open up vistas into the inner worlds.

The morning air is smelling the spring rain, which has soaked the soil and brought fresh life to the plants. The leaves are mirroring the lights. Water is not just H²O, as scientist want to make us believe, it is a wonder of nature with many qualities.
Yesterday a friend from Canada sent me a link to a website “Microwaved Water and Plants”, demonstrating impressively how through microwave treatment the subtle structures of water lose their life-giving qualities. The beautiful website about the World of Water gives deeper insights into the fascinating work of the reknown scientist Dr. Masaru Emoto on water crystals, showing the multitude of structural information expressing through water.
Some years ago we had published a number of Good Will in Action about Food and Drink, explaining the importance of the use of pure water for purifying also our subtle bodies. Not to forget the tremendous need for drinking water in many areas of our planet.
May a more intelligent and caring behaviour towards this precious source of life slowly develop.

During the one week we had been away, the scenery has greatly changed: Intense colour spots of white, yellow, green and pink are seen in the gardens and along the roads. The leaves are back to the trees and are shining in a light green. The sky yesterday was giving a radiant azure background. We are in the month of Taurus, ruled by Venus. Nature is expressing in all her beauty. We sense beauty through the forms of the flowers, the freshness of the green, the warmer winds on the skin.
The meditative experience shows, that beauty is experienced more in the subtler realms of consciousness, in an inner equilibrium. When we are drowsy or busily engaged in some work, the outside beauty doesn’t seem to exist. I have to be receptive. Beauty reflects in the inside, and can be contemplated there even without the outer forms. The inspiration of beauty gives a strength to overcome even obstacles. So the refreshing energies of spring bring us the revitalizing energies for the annual cycle ahead.

On our way back from Berlin, on a highway rest stop somewhere in Germany: We were making a pause in a restaurant. In the corner there was a man sitting in front of a gambling machine. The lights were running in circles, the man was staring at the numbers, waiting for a little luck. He stood up to get some more coins, then continued his game. He was like an icon of the pursuit of happiness – waiting for an easy fortune, but losing in the end.
Many are looking at the twinkling wheels of life, waiting for some good luck, hypnotized by the desire for wealth. A stale taste remains in the end, for the outer little joys keep on fleeting ways. The source of joy is in the inner, the treasure of silence. With the years of regular meditation this has become a growing experience.
The wisdom teachings tell us that it is o.k. to have the money for a good living but that the search for joy in the outer will remain an unsatisfying craving. The inner light is stable and fulfilling, the outer lights keep on circling round like those of the gambling machine.

Our last excursion in Berlin brought us to the Brandenburger Gate and the Reichstag building, the old and new seat of the German government. Both places next to each other reflect more than any other place the dramatic history of Germany and of the meeting point of hemispheres. In a side part of the Branderburger Gate there is now a Room of Silence, like the silent core in the inner of our being, where you find the inner peace of the Eternal. We sat down there for a short meditation.
At the Reichstag we went up with the elevator to the great glass dome located directly over the plenary hall of the Bundestag. There you have a very impressive sight over Berlin. Since olden times a cupola represents the head and the cosmos. A government is the head centre of a country. Here the head is not of stone, but of glass, and in the middle of i t there is a vortex-like structure with mirrors directly in the middle. This lightful structure full of transparency expresses very well the trend of time into the Aquarian age, where matter becomes lighter and more light-infused. The mirror-vortex reminded me of the sahasrara, the human head-centre of subtle energies, which in an enlightened being is open to the energies from above and distributing them to the surrounding life. It is the apex of the vertical line starting from the base of the spine.
May the work being done here at the bottom of the vortex, in the plenary hall, be inspired from the cosmic law and energies. So when descending the spirallic pathway from the top of the dome, we sang in a low voice the sacred word OM.

Yesterday we went to a little airport in the north-west of Berlin. The son of our friends is an enthusiastic glider pilot and spends his entire free time there at the glider club. The bumpy road to the airport once served as a runway for Russian warplanes. On both sides of the road there were grass-covered shelters where at communist times the aircrafts were stationed. Three glider clubs had bought the huge site in the 90ies and now do their starts on a long grass runway.
At the morning meeting of the club members we were presented as the guests from abroad and listened for the instructions for the day. Then we went over to the new hangar, where about two dozens of gliders and a few small motor aircrafts were standing closely side by side. We rolled our two-seater out of the hall and pushed it over to the runway. It took some time until all the gliders were out and the old truck with the hoist was placed at the other end of the runway.
The starts began: Within 1, 2 seconds the gliders were in the air, and after a few seconds they reached already the hight of about 500 meters, from where the cable dropped down and the glider started its way through the air.
After the starts of my sons it was my turn. With a parachute on the back and some instructions how ot get out in case of an emergency we took off. I was pressed into my seat while we shooted up like a rocket, only to shift over into the horizontal after a few more seconds. I still had frayed nerves, when we got into a thermal lift and circled upwards.
It was fascinating to experience how through the use of the upward currents we were climbing up instead of falling down. It is like the energies of the kundalini ascending the vertical tube subtle inner side of the spinal column, lifting the consciousness up into the spaces of higher realms, when you get, through spiritual disciplines, into a “thermal lift” after due preparations.

The newspaper headlines yesterday were speaking about a rassist assault on a German with African origin 3 days ago, replacing the previous days’ headlines of a court-case about a murder of a Turkish origin woman by her brothers, to reestablishing the “family honour”. On our way for a visit of Schloss Sanssouci in Potsdam, a Unesco World Heritage castle where the Prussian kings had resided, we came along the ancient barracks of the British military administration, where now an electronic supermarket and other shops were located. We passed the ancient border between East and West, where the change in the architecture marked still visibly the difference between the worlds. During our walk through the Sanssouci Park one of our German friends told me that she was half Cherokee, being the child of a mother from Berlin and a high-rank American military official, whose remains now are resting on the famous Arlington cemetary in the States. In the Sanssouci park we saw statues of Greek gods and heros and China-inspired temples. From another friend we heard the life-story reflecting the time of the East German communist rule, with events of the “Stasi” secret service and the individual experiences during the dramatic fall of the Berlin Wall.
The recent world history is so present here, most controverse influences reflect in the lives of the citizens. Lines of past and present destinies focus in speedily pulsating rhythm. What is one’s own, what is the foreign, the influence one wants to keep out?
The rassist assault mentioned above bears witness of the fears caused by non-integrated forces. My spiritual teacher Dr. Parvathi Kumar says “Integrate, do not disintegrate”, and he told me two months ago: “It is much more difficult to integrate than to exclude.”
To be able to integrate I have to be integrated within myself, to be in connection with my self, my soul. When I am well linked-up, I can be open and bear the controversies in the currents of the outer world, without being washed away by them.

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.

The 17 years old son of the friends here in Berlin is an enthusiastic glider flyer. If the weather allows, he will take us the next days on a flight at a little airport in the surroundings of Berlin. In this area here the first successfull flights with a glider have been done by Otto Lilienthal at the end of 19th century. His experiments inspired the Wright brothers for their first motorized jumps into the air.
Nowadays flying has become an everyday routine: Yesterday evening the mother of the young glider flyer came home. She is a Lufthansa stewardess and her full schedule had brought her the last two days to the north and south of Europe and back to Berlin.
The speed in the general change of localities has tremendously increased during the last decades, and also the speed of life. The winds of time are strongly blowing in the Aquarian airs. Also in my life the last years have increased the amount of travels, and much more the amount of far distant connections and cooperations over the continents. Distances are shrinking, while speed is increasing. You learn to keep stable while “flying” at high speed through quickly changing worlds of experience.
A look over the shoulders of my children into the worlds of their computer games opens up worlds of concretised imagination. We have to learn to steer well our little airplanes through the storm of impressions.

Yesterday on our way to Berlin, somewhere on a rest stop in the East of Germany, a man dressed in a pink costume of an Easter bunny was distributing eggs to the people on the parking, a funny situation. Did he know about the age-old underlying symbolism?
In the East the first sprouting of creation, after a periodical dissolution of all manifestation, is described as an egg-shaped form coming out of the ethereal waters of space, like a bubble in infinite space. And in the egg the creator as the seed of future creation awakens, and slowly creation begins. And all of us have started our journey in this physical body from an ovular state, after conception. Our head, being the first part manifesting in the womb, is also the representation of the cosmic egg, above resting on the neck like the egg on the stalk. In India I have been witnessing several times of a water ritual, where an egg-shaped lingam, representing the cosmic egg of first manifestation, is being ceremoniously washed with waters, representing the waters of space. It is a ceremony in honour of the first logos of divine will, the first spur of creation.
So the Easter eggs with their different layers are in more than one way a sublime sign of life, though hidden, not only within a shell or in the grasses of a meadow, but also in the depth below a superficial understanding.