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Kevan Myers

Sometimes we seem to hold an awakening experience as something very special, which must mean that it is hardly available to us.

Kevan Myers, life as a poetry, stands out from the crowd

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I met Kevan last year in India, when I was filming both non-duality teachers and other people that I found to be "rich in life experience".  I intended to make a series called NATURAL INTELLIGENCE with that material.  

Sometimes we seem to hold an awakening experience as something very special, which must mean that it is hardly available to us. Of course with such a viewpoint, it would be hardly available to us.  Kevan's website is:

http://www.DancingYeti.BraveHost.com

You can email him: DancingYetiPoetry (at) gmail.com

 

  

 

About Kevan Myers

Born in London; but soon found the way out, using his thumb to visit many lands, and now that planes are cheap, he always bags a window seat to peer through clouds at places where he’d love to wander, underneath.

In 1967, he set out to round the World, but got waylaid, in Punjab, sitting backwards on a horse-cart, faced by setting sun which spread across the skies between the trees, accompanied by clopping hooves and birds with wild cries.

He found that India had got him by the hand and even when he turned away she never would let go.

He tried twice more to round the globe, but every time she lay in waiting by the road, to throw his watch away, and spin his head around, until one day he found the place to plant some trees and build the house where he would stay, from 1995 until today.

Between these trips, for money and for joy, he worked in schools, endeavouring to teach the words and tools that make it possible for everyone to speak, in English words, the feelings and the thoughts which make each being unique.

He still can feel the presence that each name will bring, but when the school bells ring, inside his dreams, he finds himself stark naked in a race with time he cannot win.

And this may be one reason why he left the West.

Another is the place he now resides: beside a holy mountain, in a climate where his windows never close and sleeping can take place, near to the breathing trees and stars, which peer through the mosquito net to light his face.