Books, from Siona's shelves to yours...

Jesus: A Story of Enlightenment

by Deepak Chopra

This book was a treat. 

I've been a long-time fan of Chopra's nonfiction works (one of the things I've admired is how luminously timeless they are; Creating Health and Quantum Healing were both published in the 80s and still read as though they could have come out last week), but had no idea what to expect from his fiction. This first taste was a wonderful surprise. 

I think if I could compare this book with anything, it would be one of Paulo Coehlo's novels. (And yes, that is high praise!) Chopra's Jesus is a complex and rich and complicated character, and the whole book deals, unsurprisingly, with the same sort of nuanced spiritual themes that Coehlo treats in his fiction. It's both an easy read, in that the language flows and the story is well-plotted, and a difficult one, in that it wrestles with concerns about spirituality, love, obligation, and the human condition. My favorite thing about it was the way in which it provided a new perspective, and a different view, of Christianity. (Which, I imagine, would also make the book interesting to Christians and non-Christians alike.)

And what can I say? I realized, halfway through, that it's a rare treat to discover a novel by someone who has spent so much of his life devoted to studying and experiencing the unfoldment of human consciousness--reading it is a little like falling into conversation with a kindred spirit whom, even though you just met, you find yourself relating to intimately. I'm happy now that I haven't yet picked up the precursor to this book (Buddha: A Story of Enlightenment); now I can dive straight back into Chopra's well-informed and rich imagination without needing to wait for his next book. :)



The Mystery of 2012: Predictions, Prophecies, and Possibilities

Sounds True

Another confession: I'm a 2012 skeptic. Were it not for the fact that I think the Apocalypse is always already happening--albeit very slowly and at same time as an unfolding Renaissance--the memory of Y2k is still quite fresh. And so when I started this book, my right eyebrow tried to climb off my forehead in protest. 

Not only did it not succeed, I'm now much, much more open to considering the significance of this upcoming date. So perhaps I should say I WAS a 2012 skeptic. This book gave me a new point of view.

The Mystery of 2012 is a collection of essays from an assortment of writers (from theorists to futurists to scientists to ecologists) about the question of this predicated cosmic shift. It's broken into four parts: The first includes pieces on the Mayan Calendar and related prophecies; the second essays on business and science and politics in the context of 2012; the third on the symbolism and spirituality related to the topic; and the forth on 'a new humanity' and evolution beyond this shift. I'm someone who likes a rounded view of any topic, and so this multiplicity of perspectives was a delight. 

Not all the contributions are of the same caliber, but I read them all with the same fascinated curiosity. By the time I got to the end, had a renewed appreciation of the value of thinking about where our society and culture is headed over the next few years, and why applying our consciousness and awareness and heart to this question is important.  And I certainly feel as though I've got a much, much better understanding of why so many are so excited. :)


Sixty Seconds:  One moment changes everything  

Collected by Phil Bolsta

Sixty Seconds is another lovely compilation, but much more sweet and personal and less academic than the book above. It's a collection of first-person stories about the experience of spiritual awakening--some world-rupturing and traumatic, others gentle and personal and slow. 

I loved slowly sipping from each interview--no matter what the experience itself was like, each author or interviewee is unfailingly honest and open and raw in speaking about it, which alone makes them unforgettable--and I loved how each little chapter was a reminder that illumination can come from the most surprising places.