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Postby Kwame Nyame 64 » Mon Nov 21, 2011 9:18 pm

Opiamensa wrote,
Sorry Kwame, I do not believe in any superstitious religion or other such nonsense! And it includes eck and the so-called soul travel. Because even you yourself cannot tell where you go during soul travel.


Yes Opia,and you do not believe in a Supreme Deity,ancestors,karma and reincarnation.

That is ok.lt could be you sincerely do not believe in these things.You have more important things to think about or concern yourself with.

l have been studying the ECK teachings for many years.l know through my own experience that the ECK Masters are real,Soul Travel is real.And l believe in Karma and Reincarnation.
These things are nonsense to you.But they make a lot of sense to me.
You see,lm sure there are things in your life that are dear to you that may hold no truth or value to me.Such is life.
We simple accept things as they are and learn tolerance.
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Postby quophi aletse » Tue Nov 22, 2011 12:03 am

well put kwame 8)
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Postby OPIAMENSA » Sat Nov 26, 2011 3:01 am

There is a chasm of difference between knowledge and common sense. I just wished Kwame will channel some of that knowledge into actionable intelligence.

Those who perished at Jonestown failed to convert some of their knowledge into intelligence. They believed in Jim Jones.
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Postby OPIAMENSA » Sat Nov 26, 2011 3:21 am

Anonymous wrote:so wat are ur beliefs opia?
I believe in what I can learn and prove through my senses. They key word for me is proof.
I do not believe that a Jewish man is the creator God and I do not believe in soul travel.
These are for the weak-minded and weak-kneed. What is sad about this is that your belief in such nonsense exposes you to another weak-kneed and weak-minded person who not only imposes himself on you but also empties your wallet.
So, for me, you need to show me the proof or take your weak mind and weak knees elsewhere.
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Postby Kwame Nyame 64 » Mon Nov 28, 2011 5:41 pm

FAQ www.eckankar.org

Do the ECK Masters really exist?
The ECK Masters are real.

People from all over the world and from all walks of life have had personal experiences with the ECK Masters years before Paul Twitchell brought them to the public eye.

Many people who have never heard of Eckankar recognize ECK Masters from their dreams and other encounters.

Here on the Eckankar Web site, www.eckankar.org you can read some of these stories and see pictures of some of these ECK Masters.

Better yet, meet them for yourself. That's the real proof for any spiritual seeker.

The book "Those Wonderful ECK Masters" gives spiritual exercises to help you receive personal guidance from an ECK Master.
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Postby Kwame Nyame 64 » Thu Mar 22, 2012 7:34 pm

Kwame Nyame 64 wrote:FUBBI QUANTZ

Fubbi Quantz."The Mahanta,the Living ECK Master during the time of Buddha,about 500 BC.He completed his mission,then immotalised his body,and now the guardian of the SHARIYAT-KI-SUGMAD at the Kastupari Monastery in Northern Tibet.
A teacher of Firdusi,the Persian Poet,he was also the spiritual guide for Columbus and encouraged his voyage to the Americas in order to revitalize the depleted nutrition of the Europeans."


http://www.eckankar.org/Masters/Fubbi/Story07.html
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Postby Q' lypse » Sun Mar 25, 2012 8:31 am

cheeei, how did i miss this? :shock: . ehhiii
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Postby Q' lypse » Sun Mar 25, 2012 8:33 am

OPIAMENSA wrote:These are for the weak-minded and weak-kneed. What is sad about this is that your belief in such nonsense exposes you to another weak-kneed and weak-minded person who not only imposes himself on you but also empties your wallet.
So, for me, you need to show me the proof or take your weak mind and weak knees elsewhere.
eish :lol: :lol: :lol:
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Postby Kwame Nyame 64 » Fri Mar 30, 2012 8:31 pm

http://www.eckankar.org/Masters/Peddar/Story12.html

The Singing River
A Woman Discovers the Eternal Gift of God's Love
By BW


I know little about why the Pascagoula River makes a singing sound. I only know that it was a part of my childhood—something I took for granted growing up near its shores in southern Mississippi. Only later, in retrospect, did I understand its significance in my life.

My father loved the mystery of old legends about why the Pascagoula was called the Singing River, and he was the only one I knew who could hear the river sing.

"The water has to be like glass," he would say, "and it's always loudest in late afternoon. You have to know how to listen."

Going fishing on the Singing River was a learning experience. He loved teaching me how to catch a fish.

"Watch the cork," he would say. "Don't jerk the line too soon. Wait for the cork to go under completely."

Then a time would come when all conditions were just right—no breeze, calm water, and attention focused on the cork. He would whisper, "Listen . . . I can hear it." And I knew he was listening to the river sing.

In those days, the late 1920s and early 1930s, there were no modern conveniences available to us. No electricity, no newspapers, not even a battery-powered radio; but we had lots of books and knew how to entertain ourselves. At night my father would light the lamps and, when he wasn't too tired, read some fairy tales or other stories to us from the children's books. These stories washed over my childhood and resonated in my adult life metaphorically.

Then war came, I grew up, and everything changed.

In 1954, I was at a crossroads with a failed marriage and a yearning to get away and find new horizons. So with little more than a longing for something new, I left for California. I had read a story in my early teens about a man who loved the ocean. He was an artist who lived on a sailboat in Santa Barbara, California. The name, Barbara, attracted me because it was also my name. I dreamed about living there someday.

Three years later, in California, I was married again—to a commercial fisherman and abalone diver who lived on his boat in a small town fifteen miles south of Santa Barbara. His hobby was painting seascapes and scenes of the different boats and harbors along the coast. Within a year, I was actually living in Santa Barbara; my dream had come true. We lived there until 1967, when our boat mysteriously sank while anchored in the harbor.

New business opportunities opened in Dana Point, where a new harbor was being built. I had no idea how much my life was about to change with this move.

I bought a copy of Brad Steiger's book In My Soul I am Free (about Paul Twitchell, modern-day founder of Eckankar) because of the reference to Edgar Cayce on the cover. I had read my way through all the occult bookstores in Santa Barbara and Ventura counties, searching for something and following my interest. I found some truth in everything but nothing to tie it together.

Edgar Cayce had opened my eyes to out-of-body experiences and to this interest a new dimension was added by Paul Twitchell: Soul Travel—the ability to explore the worlds of God while still living in the physical.

I mailed a request to Paul Twitchell for more information about Eckankar. While I waited for a response, I decided to try a spiritual exercise called the Easy Way that Paul had given in Steiger's book.

That night I waited until my husband and son went to sleep. Then, following the instructions, I chanted HU, a sacred name of God, while focusing my attention on the space between the eyebrows, the Tisra Til, or Spiritual Eye.

I had no idea what to expect. The thought of popping out of my body, described in the book as sounding like a cork popping out of a bottle, was frightening. So I cautiously tried to visualize the Blue Star (a sign of the Mahanta), as suggested, while chanting HU.

Over and over, I would quiet my mind and focus on infinity; this had worked before in seeing auras. But the image of a cork bobbing in the water kept reappearing, and the childhood memory of fishing on the Singing River with my father flooded my inner screen.

Then gently, softly, in the quiet inner still of this secret place, came sound—the faint but audible sound of HU-U-U-U.

The blaze of this epiphany overwhelmed me. In that moment, I realized what my father had heard when the river sang.

I enrolled to study the Eckankar discourses, choosing Soul Travel—The Illuminated Way from the list of spiritual services Paul Twitchell offered then. The discourses began to arrive monthly, one at a time. Each discourse offered a different technique for Soul Travel. I was way over my head and realized it, but with time, a rhythm developed with the monthly format. And I could always recall my first experience, of fishing with my father, and reach the Sound Current.

Several weeks later, another spiritual experience shook me to the core. I was awakened by a loud, roaring sound, followed by an electric vibration that resonated throughout my body in a rippling effect, starting at my toes and vibrating up through the top of my head. Nothing I had read so far had prepared me for this experience or could explain what it was.

In the days ahead, I realize that I had been tuned in—like a tuning fork—to the Audible Life Stream. From that time on, I no longer had to reach the Sound with a spiritual exercise; It was always there.

This journey has brought many experiences in the ebb and flow of spiritual growth—including many dark nights when there was no way or path—but the Sound has never left me. It is always there, a part of me, yearning to be known.

I couldn't share this experience. I had no words to explain. I didn't know then, so many years ago, that there are no words to explain the synchronicity of corks—or the "isness" of things.

What did I ever do to deserve such guidance? It is as if some benevolent presence made sure I wouldn't miss it this time—after countless lifetimes, years. So I was provided with a river that sings and a father who heard it, a father who taught me fishing as a spiritual exercise, and with his stories, awakened in me a sense of mystery and quest. Then in 1954, the ECK-Vidya, a form of prophecy, revealed a glimpse of life to come in California. Who do I thank for all this? And for this degree of realization?

The answer can only be divine love.

On October 22, 1981, as the Rod of ECK Power was passed to the new Living ECK Master in the Valley of Tirmer, I had a dream. Teddy bears had joined hands and were dancing in a circle singing.

Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear
Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair
Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn't fuzzy
Was he?

Paul Twitchell had sent his teddy bears (a special gift of love he was known to give to his wife, Gail) across time and space to sing this "Fuzzy Wuzzy" song. It held a special meaning for me. Each line of the song (Wuzzy . . . Wuzzy . . . Wuzzy . . . Was he) sounds like Wah Z, which is the spiritual name of Sri Harold Klemp, the Mahanta, the Living ECK Master. From now on, I would have his spiritual guidance.

I was reminded, once more, of how very much we are loved.

Excerpted from the 2010 Eckankar Journal, copyright © 2009 ECKANKAR. All rights reserved.
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