The stillness in Nisargadatta Maharaj’s eyes is almost unsettling. It reminds me of how my grandmother would sit silently in her garden, just breathing, not saying anything. There’s something about these old photos that feels like an invitation to pause, too, and notice the space around everything.
One Response
The stillness in Nisargadatta Maharaj’s eyes is almost unsettling. It reminds me of how my grandmother would sit silently in her garden, just breathing, not saying anything. There’s something about these old photos that feels like an invitation to pause, too, and notice the space around everything.