Toţi suntem trişti, spunea el. Nu se vede întotdeauna, dar toţi oamenii sunt trişti. - Mircea Eliade

And since a more convincing argument could not be found — aside from a fatal accident or suicide — this way was chosen: a process of galloping senescence.

The worldly man lives in society, marries, establishes a family; Yoga prescribes absolute solitude and chastity. The worldly man is “possessed” by his own life; the yogin refuses to “let himself live”; to continual movement, he opposes his static posture, the immobility of āsana; to agitated, unrhythmical, changing respiration, he opposes prānāyāma, and even dreams of holding his breath indefinitely; to the chaotic flux of psychomental life, he replies by “fixing thought on a single point,” the first step to that final withdrawal from the phenomenal world which he will obtain through pratyāhāra. All of the yogic techniques invite to one and the same gesture—to do exactly the opposite of what human nature forces one to do. From solitude and chastity to samyama, there is no solution of continuity. The orientation always remains the same—to react against the “normal,” “secular,” and finally “human” inclination.

Tu îţi mai aduci aminte cine a spus că miracolele sunt irecognoscibile, în sensul că sunt camuflate printre întâmplările de toate zilele, că sunt împlinite, în aparenţă, de către oameni care seamănă cu noi toţi, oamenii de rând?