Ancient SECRET of the fountain of youth E-Book

Peter Kelder

• Herausgeber: Stargatebook
• Kategorie: Ratgeber
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

The five tibetan Rites is the story of a man who braves the remote and mysterious moors of the Himalayas to discover the secret of all time: the miraculous and legendary "Fountain of Youth." To the reader the invitation to follow him on the journey to a monastery hidden in the depths of forbidden Tibet and join him in the extraordinary discovery. For thousands of years these rituals have remained hidden in the secrecy of isolated Himalayan monasteries, but today the Author puts the secret of permanent youth and rejuvenation within everyone's reach: five ancient rituals that are easy to perform, but powerful enough to change our lives forever. An exhilarating, mystical and unforgettable read.

Leseprobe

Contents

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

ANCIENT SECRET OF THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH

- THE FIVE TIBETAN RITES -

PETER KELDER

Translation and Edition 2024 by Stargatebook

All rights are reserved

Notice: The statements contained in this book represent the opinions of its author who is not a medical doctor. In some cases these opinions may be contrary to those of the medical profession, and may be based on experiences which are not representative of the results that can be expected by others. The reader should not attempt self-diagnosis of any kind, and should not start any exercise program, dietary regimen, or self-treatment of any kind without the supervision of a competent medical practitioner. The publisher, its editors and its employees disclaim any liability, loss or risk incurred directly or indirectly as a result of the use and application of any of the contents of this book.

 

Part One

Every man desires to live long; but no man would be old.

Jonathan Swift

One afternoon some years ago, I was sitting in the park reading the afternoon paper, when an elderly gentleman walked up and seated himself alongside me. Appearing to be in his late sixties, he was gray and balding, his shoulders drooped, and he leaned on a cane as he walked. Little did I know that from that moment, the whole course of my life would change forever. It wasn't long before the two of us were engaged in a fascinating conversation. It turned out that the old man was a retired British Army officer, who had also served in the diplomatic corps for the Crown. As a result, he had traveled at one time or another to virtually every corner of the globe. And Colonel Bradford, as I shall call him though it is not his real name-held me spellbound with highly entertaining stories of his adventures. When we parted, we agreed to meet again, and before long, a close friendship had developed between us. Frequently, we got together at his place or mine for discussions and conversation that lasted late into the night. On one of these occasions, it became clear to me that there was something of importance that Colonel Bradford wanted to talk about, but for some reason he was reluctant to do so. I attempted to tactfully put him at ease, assuring him that if he wanted to tell me what was on his mind, I would keep it in strict confidence. Slowly at first, and then with increasing trust, he began to talk. While stationed in India some years ago, Colonel Bradford had from time to time come in contact with wandering natives from remote regions of the interior, and he had heard many fascinating stories of their life and customs. One strange tale that particularly caught his interest was repeated quite a number of times, and always by the natives of a particular district. Those from other districts seemed never to have heard of it. It concerned a group of Lamas, or Tibetan priests who, according to the story, knew the secret of the "Fountain of Youth." For thousands of years, this extraordinary secret had been handed down by members of this particular sect. And while they made no effort to conceal it, their monastery was so remote and isolated, they were virtually cut off from the outside world. This monastery and its "Fountain of Youth had become something of a legend to the natives who spoke of it. They told stories of old men who mysteriously regained health, strength, and vigor after finding and entering the monastery. But no one seemed to know the exact location of this strange and marvelous place. Like so many other men, Colonel Bradford had become old at the age of 40, and since then had not been growing any younger. The more he heard of this miraculous "Fountain of Youth," the more he became convinced that such a place actually existed. He began to gather information on directions, the character of the country, the climate, and other data that might help him locate the spot. And once his investigation had begun, the Colonel became increasingly obsessed with a desire to find this "Fountain of Youth." The desire, he told me, had become so irresistible, he had decided to return to India and earnestly search for this retreat and its secret of lasting youth. And Colonel Bradford asked me if I would join him in the search. Normally, I would be the first to be skeptical of such an unlikely story. But the Colonel was completely sincere. And the more he told me of this "Fountain of Youth," the more I became convinced that it could be true. For a while, I was tempted to join the Colonel's search. But as I began to take practical matters into consideration, I finally sided with reason and decided against it. As soon as Colonel Bradford had left, I began to doubt whether I had made the right decision. 73 reassure myself, I reasoned that perhaps it is a mistake to want to conquer aging. Perhaps we should all simply resign ourselves to growing old gracefully, and not ask more from life than others expect. Yet in the back of my mind the haunting possibility remained: a "Fountain of Youth." What a thrilling idea! For his sake, I hoped that the Colonel might find it. Years passed, and in the press of everyday affairs, Colonel Bradford and his "Shangri-La" grew dim in my memory. Then, one evening on returning to my apartment, I found a letter in the Colonel's own handwriting. I quickly opened and read a message that appeared to have been written in joyous desperation. The Colonel said that in spite of frustrating delays and setbacks, he believed that he was actually on the verge of finding "The Fountain of Youth." He gave no return address, but I was relieved to at least know that the Colonel was still alive. Many more months passed before I heard from him again. When a second letter finally arrived, my hands almost trembled as I opened it. For a moment I couldn't believe its contents. The news was better than I could possibly have hoped. Not only had the Colonel found "The Fountain of Youth," he was bringing it back to the states with him, and would arrive sometime within the next two months. Four years had elapsed since I had last seen my old friend. And I began to wonder how he might have changed in that period of time. Had this "Fountain of Youth" enabled him to stop the clock on advancing age? Would he look as he did when I last saw him, or would he appear to be only one year older instead of four? Eventually the opportunity to answer these questions arrived. While I was at home alone one evening, the house phone rang unexpectedly. When I answered, the doorman announced, "Colonel Bradford is here to see you." A rush of excitement came over me as I said, "Send him right up." Shortly, the bell rang and I threw open the door. But to my disappointment I saw before me not Colonel Bradford, but another much younger man. Noting my surprise, the stranger said, "Weren't you expecting me?" "I thought it would be someone else," I answered, a little puzzled and confused. "I thought I would be receiving a more enthusiastic welcome," said the visitor in a friendly voice. "Look closely at my face. Do I need to introduce myself?" Confusion turned to bewilderment, and then amazed disbelief as I stared at the figure before me. Slowly, I realized that the features of his face did indeed resemble those of Colonel Bradford. But this man looked as the Colonel might have looked years ago in the prime of his life. Instead of a stooping, sallow old man with a cane, I saw a tall, straight figure. His face was robust, and he had a thick growth of dark hair with scarcely a trace of gray. "It is indeed I," said the Colonel, "and if you don't ask me inside, I'll think your manners badly lacking." In joyous relief I embraced the Colonel, and unable to contain my excitement, I ushered him in under a barrage of questions. "Wait, wait," he protested good naturedly. "Allow yourself to catch your breath, and I'll tell you everything that's happened." And this he proceeded to do.