Home Again
I came onto the path through a series of "coincidences." In 1983 a friend suggested I join the meditation group run at the Sri Chinmoy Centre by Sipra Lloyd. The name rang a bell: that semester, Sipra had attended the evening Mandarin classes that I was teaching, though she had dropped out after the fourth week. I decided to give her a call some time, but since I didn't have her phone number, I forgot about the idea.
A few months later I dialed a wrong number while trying to telephone a friend. The voice at the other end remarked, "I know your voice; you're Marion, the Chinese teacher, aren't you? It's Sipra here." Soon I was attending the weekly meditations regularly.
However, in 1984 I decided to go to China for a year. I got married there and brought my new husband back to Australia. Life was very busy and I didn't find time to go back to the Centre.
In 1987 we moved to Brisbane. There I saw a poster for Sri Chinmoy Centre meditation classes stuck to a lamp post and felt a pang. One of these days I would make contact again.
Several months later I was walking along a main shopping street when I noticed a stairway going up between two shops. There was something enticing about it, and I decided to find out what was at the top. I found myself in an old arcade, and someway along it was a glass door with familiar posters and a bright blue sign which read "Oneness-Life Press." The Press was owned by Animesh, the head of the Brisbane Centre, and one thing led to another. I had come home again.
A few months later I dialed a wrong number while trying to telephone a friend. The voice at the other end remarked, "I know your voice; you're Marion, the Chinese teacher, aren't you? It's Sipra here." Soon I was attending the weekly meditations regularly.
However, in 1984 I decided to go to China for a year. I got married there and brought my new husband back to Australia. Life was very busy and I didn't find time to go back to the Centre.
In 1987 we moved to Brisbane. There I saw a poster for Sri Chinmoy Centre meditation classes stuck to a lamp post and felt a pang. One of these days I would make contact again.
Several months later I was walking along a main shopping street when I noticed a stairway going up between two shops. There was something enticing about it, and I decided to find out what was at the top. I found myself in an old arcade, and someway along it was a glass door with familiar posters and a bright blue sign which read "Oneness-Life Press." The Press was owned by Animesh, the head of the Brisbane Centre, and one thing led to another. I had come home again.
Marion (Melbourne)