My name is kuva I am a bloggaholic , it has been 45 days since my last post

Hi friends!

its has been a while since I have posted anything...I have my reasons...just thought you should know..Cheers! Ciao and see ya later!

This Week: Zakheim: The Art of Prophetic Justice

Just when I was thinking I have wasted my time these several months back in America and that my family is a bunch of *******, who are********* and I think they should all********** and if they dont I am gonna**********this news segment aired, boosting my sense of personal and family pride enough to see this through to the end, with a smile.

that all said enjoy the show !

my first Mural in Venice Beach CA

This portait of my Gauranga diety was supposed to be in the place of the sun but I got sick the day It was to  install it as my Gaura Purnima offering ....I took it as a sign, so i left it only as the sun cutting throught the storming clouds of bad news.

Pious Piper

In the Village of Sangad. Like the Pide Piper as Our Sankirtan party crossed the village the childen would run our of theiir homes to join the fun.

A little more of me now

Well It has been exactly 2 weeks since I posted "A little piece of MEat" the day I cut off the tip of my finger. I am very happy and amazed to announce that new skin has fully bridged the wound and there is no longer raw flesh exposed, there is no scab just a very very thin membrane of pink skin. when I touch it or now use my finger a most unusual sensation occurs...it is the exact opposite of being numb but result in almost the same sense when I touch any area of the tip I feel it all over the tip, pressure applied on one side is felt equally on the other side. I am hoping that when the thicker layers of skin that contain the rest of my finger print that the sensations will be back to normalish.  I am very sad to hear today that a dear friend had just cut of the tip of her middle finger of the left hand, needless to say "I feel her pain." after hearing the similar foolishness I thought for a second that we really were perfect for one another but just as my finger tip healed so did my broken heart.

As this will soon be a scar I am reminded of the other scars on the same finger tip. the sensory memory quickly draws me back to a number of other pains and the scars and more importantly the lessons left behind.

they are not the obvious lessons don't touch hot things or sharp objects avoid touching the radiator fan while jumpstarting your car on a dark country road.

A few of the scars mark profound core lessons, which could carry with me many life times or reduce the number more I will have to take....

But I am reluctant to share them now, I have reached a plateau in this Blogging adventure. bWhat is of value to share and induce others to spend their valuable life to read..for that matter what is worthy of the life I spent to write. While I hope that my readers get some value, a drop of inspiration ,a fresh and alternate perspective or one that really resonated or a good warning not to follow this thorny path.

Perhaps it is my own unwillingness to accept my humanity even while trying to express it. I am frankly embarrassed by some of the motivations that weave through my efforts in communicating and relating to others.

The internet has provided such an efficient form of communicating , like many other very efficient things, the flavor or literally the life has been lost.  As much as I am addicted to Facebook perhaps in the wake of addiction I feel right now so strongly that unless I can smell your breath...I don't want to see your face. I don't intend to be any more offensive that your breath by that statement but the wholesome range of love and nurture that can be shared with you is diminished by an excess of other stuff being shared.

Something in me longs for a time when it again take effort to get to know someone, when discretion is the better part of valor , When you have to take the effort to climb a tree to peek it someone else's life, to stalk them. When you fall in love with some one in your own village not on the opposite end of the earth, and if you did fall in love with someone in a far off land, communication is such that it really does seem like there are far away , not that they are just out of reach, living out their life as I sleep and dream ( that reminds me of the movie Lady Hawk)

This instantaneous communication  I am gradually starting to cultivate in my relationship with God, The belief that God is far off some place, is getting eroded by consistent meditation and remembrance, by service and inquiry, by patience and  an ever evolving  acceptance of things as there are not as I hope or fear them to be.

All these silly and persistent desires are gradually separating from the core to be revealed as a part of the machine and apart from me. But I am not yet free of using such gifts of knowledge to give life to more of like nature, but instead it is used to feed this machine that has itself no mechanism for satisfaction. My machine wants to use the results of my exploration of spirit as life to attract another machine for the purpose of keeping the machine company, maybe even feed it and to make more machines that will go on to also reproduce more machines.

Perhaps a well wisher could advise me at this juncture about the appropriateness of sharing ones own spiritual experiences and realizations, the occasions accepted even though brought by pain and difficulty show to be drop of Gods causeless Mercy.

I have a few scars that marked a turning point, tempering my enthusiasm to be a recipient of The Good Lords special Mercy, and getting more than I bargained for. Stimulating the strong desire and willingness to seek a Guru to guild certain aspects of my progress. Do I share this openly or keep it dear and secret, deferring wisdom to those who wiser than me rather than trying to convince others of my own in a public setting?

I will post pictures soon of the healing a picture is worth a 1000 words.

The price of blogging during work