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In the spirit of Swami Vivekananda, he boldly presents truths to help awaken us to our true spiritual identity. For more information visit http: Are you an author? Help us improve our Author Pages by updating your bibliography and submitting a new or current image and biography.

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Get fast, free shipping with Amazon Prime. Did he think the same way as his mother? He was sure he did not. His father—to whom he felt closer while their family of four was still intact with his sister Dorothy, three years younger —did not entertain those kinds of views. People like him had the feeling part of them uppermost. Had his parents made a mistake in marrying? If they had not, he would have been unborn—a nothing.

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Time, it was said, was curved, did not progress in a straight line—it flowed back upon itself. Which seemed to mean that the present was constantly becoming the past and did not really exist at all: That meant that the seeds of endings lay in their beginnings. If you knew how to judge what you saw, a whole life could be glimpsed at its outset, or at least by the age of ten.

Trouble had been building for a long time before that. His mother was ill from something that kept her away from home for extended periods—a stay at a sanitarium and once at the seashore made her better enough to return but she was not as strong as she had been.

The grown-ups tried to keep everything from him and Dorothy but they knew enough. Knew that something had to happen soon. Late in the summer of that year his mother took them to EmeraldLake three miles north of the village and under a favored tree by the shore, where they had gone so often on very different occasions, told them what had happened. He would be moving to Canada in the far west, taking with him several men from the local quarry, and would not be coming back.

He felt like someone who had been suddenly killed and for a short time lingers on, observing the end of things. The moment separated itself from all the others he had lived, pulsating with a life of its own. It had ceased to be a moment in time and had become a wound of undiminishing pain. He seemed a different person from what he had been before the words were spoken, though he said nothing, and sat without expression. Questions would not cancel the moment, would only intensify its reality and reveal to his mother and sister his helplessness. He was so alienated from himself, he was sure they must know.

But perhaps they did not. Dorothy said a few words, he could not remember them; and his mother added a few, which he did not hear. The bright day shimmered with unreality, as though he had opened his eyes on another planet…. Paul Hourihan , was born and educated in Boston where he earned a degree from Harvard, and a doctorate in English literature from Boston University. For 15 years he taught dozens of courses and gave innumerable lectures on the subject of great mystics and mysticism in Ontario, Canada.

Why did you write this book? It is the search for the private life of Bill Wilson, the public life we know. There were many signs of conflicts in his life and even in the correspondence that we have there are suggestions that what we know about him, although true and genuine as far as it goes, is only half the story. As a famous man we owe it to ourselves and to him to find out what the truth was about him that we may benefit not only by what he gave us publicly but privately too.

We find that individuals who generate these world-saving religious or spiritual movements out of their own life struggles always have periods of regressions and wanderings, backtrackings and conflicts.

They never or hardly ever move forward on a straight line and so it would have been with Bill and still more because of his complex alcoholic nature as well. And yet he, the founder, was excluded from this knowledge beyond what he could safely handle lest in becoming mystical and spiritual beyond the ordinary he would no longer be able to effectively serve as leader. Random Quote Latest News Meditation: Vedanta, a philosophy and science of the spirit, is as profound and mysterious as India, the country of its origin.

Its four yogas of. It almost seemed that even from the first hours he was being watched. Was his life meant to be something special? Mark Whalon thought so. Ten years older than himself, one of the few in the Dorset villages with a college background, and a stubbornly independent thinker, Mark never forgot that night, and always referred to it over the years in the same tone of wonder and conviction: His age the year it happened. It was like a death.