Without opinions of knowing and knowledge, Where words and feelings do not taint silence. Where I and you is a useless distinction, There only speaks the language of Love. In the presence of Yoginâm, by HarpMood and by his books. Questions and considerations, Are smashed in Oneness. Ideas and assumptions about gods and god, About spirituality, masters, guides and mystics. All truths, beliefs and their hopes and fears, Fade in the light of all-embracing. Welcome seeker of Love.
HarpMood is communication. This communication holds a hidden, very particular value. Its value is not hidden in the sound itself, there is neither a melody nor a rhythm to follow. HarpMood has nothing to do with listening to music, nor with daydreaming or guided meditation. HarpMood is a real mystical expression, since Yoginâm is not the one who touches the strings himself. The mere happening that Yoginâm is not touching the strings himself, holds the very communication. The source of the touching is rooted in unconscious oneness: the very essence of existence. What remains in absolute silence.