"Can you possibly understand how someone can love this Mountain? It is Shiva Himself embodied here. This is a holy spot – not all the town and its people and temples – but Arunachala itself. I am bound to the mountain. I don't think you understand how potent this energy is. I don't think you understand that my faith is not in a guru or a teacher or a path, but in Arunachala Himself. It is He my heart communes with, it is He who takes all my burdens. He is alive and all powerful; His Presence imbues the whole earth and air of this place. You can hold it in your hand like honey. He breathes you in and breathes Himself back into you. It is tangible, concrete, solid. I tell you, forget philosophy – He lifts my heart and bestows such peace and beauty, my soul is imprinted with His grace. This is not a mountain of mere, inanimate rock. You would have to come and taste for yourself. But who could describe this, you have to feel for yourself.
Transformation occurs, but it is hidden. It is a mystery. You wake up one day, and that which tormented you your whole life has softened, that which obsessed you your whole life is a whisper, a shadow. The mind can't touch it, and there is not even any interest in calculating, comparing, labelling. It is like camphor, you can see wisps of smoke and smell the wonderful odour, but you cannot grab it and put it into a box. Grace is free and flows as a mystery. I know nothing. I know nothing about any 'process'. All I know is what rises up from the depth of my being – and that no words or thought can define……...
Such a mystery this Silence of the Hill, such a mystery."
[An American lady]
Transformation occurs, but it is hidden. It is a mystery. You wake up one day, and that which tormented you your whole life has softened, that which obsessed you your whole life is a whisper, a shadow. The mind can't touch it, and there is not even any interest in calculating, comparing, labelling. It is like camphor, you can see wisps of smoke and smell the wonderful odour, but you cannot grab it and put it into a box. Grace is free and flows as a mystery. I know nothing. I know nothing about any 'process'. All I know is what rises up from the depth of my being – and that no words or thought can define……...
Such a mystery this Silence of the Hill, such a mystery."
[An American lady]