© Paulo Coelho. Maktub.
WWW: http://www.paulocoelho.com.br
Paulo Coelho. Maktub
Dedicated to Nha Chica
"Maktub" means "It is written." The Arabs feel that "It is written" is
not really a good translation, because, although everything is already
written, God is compassionate, and wrote it all down just to help us.
The wanderer is in New York. He has overslept an appointment, and when
he leaves his hotel, he finds that his car has been towed by the police. He
arrives late for his appointment, the luncheon lasts longer than necessary,
and he is thinking about the fine he will have to pay. It will cost a
fortune. Suddenly, he remembers the dollar bill he found in the street the
day before. He sees some kind of weird relationship between the dollar bill
and what happened to him that morning. "Who knows, perhaps I found that
money before the person who was supposed to find it had the chance? Maybe I
removed that dollar bill from the path of someone who really needed it. Who
knows but what I interfered with what was written?" He feels the need to rid
himself of the dollar bill, and at that moment sees a beggar sitting on the
sidewalk. He quickly hands him the bill, and feels that he has restored a
kind of equilibrium to things. "Just a minute," says the beggar. "I'm not
looking for a handout. I'm a poet, and I want to read you a poem in return."
"Well, make it a short one, because I'm in a hurry," says the wanderer. The
beggar says, "If you are still living, it's because you have not yet arrived
at the place you should be."
Think of the lizard. It spends most of its life on the ground, envying
the birds and indignant at its fate and its shape. "I am the most disliked
of all the creatures," it thinks. "Ugly, repulsive, and condemned to crawl
along the ground." One day, though, Mother Nature asks the lizard to make a
cocoon. The lizard is startled -- it has never made a cocoon before. He
thinks that he is building his tomb, and prepares to die. Although unhappy
with the life he has led up until then, he complains to God: "Just when I
finally became accustomed to things, Lord, you take away what little I
have." In desperation, he locks himself into the cocoon and awaits the end.
Some days later, he finds that he has been transformed into a beautiful
butterfly. He is able to fly to the sky, and he is greatly admired. He is
surprised at the meaning of life and at God's designs.
A stranger sought out the Father Superior at the monastery of Sceta. "I
want to make my life better," he said. "But I cannot keep myself from having
sinful thoughts." The father noticed that the wind was blowing briskly
outside, and said to the stranger: "It's quite hot in here. I wonder if you
could seize a bit of that wind outside and bring it here to cool the room."
"That's impossible," the stranger said. "It is also impossible to keep
yourself from thinking of things that offend God," answered the monk. "But,
if you know how to say no to temptation, they will cause you no harm."
The master says: "If a decision needs to be made, it is better to make
it and deal with the consequences. You cannot know beforehand what those
consequences will be. The arts of divination were developed in order to
counsel people, never to predict the future. They provide good advice, but
poor prophecy. "In one of the prayers that Jesus taught us, it says, 'God's
will be done.' When His will causes a problem, it also presents a solution.
If the arts of divination were able to predict the future, every soothsayer
would be wealthy, married and content."
The disciple approached his master: "For years I have been seeking
illumination," he said. "I feel that I am close to achieving it. I need to
know what the next step is." "How do you support yourself?" the master
asked. "I haven't yet learned how to support myself; my parents help me out.
But that is only a detail." "Your next step is to look directly at the sun
for half a minute," said the master. And the disciple obeyed. When the
half-minute was over, the master asked him to describe the field that
surrounded them. "I can't see it. The sun has affected my vision," the
disciple said. "A man who seeks only the light, while shirking his
responsibilities, will never find illumination. And one who keep his eyes
fixed upon the sun ends up blind," was the master's comment.
A man was hiking through a valley in the Pyrenees, when he met an old
shepherd. He shared his food with him, and they sat together for a long
time, talking about life. The man said that, if one believed in God, he
would also have to admit that he was not free, since God would govern every
step. In response, the shepherd led him to a ravine where one could hear --
with absolute clarity -- the echo to any sound. "Life is these walls, and
fate is the shout that each of us makes," said the shepherd. "What we do
will be raised to His heart, and will be returned to us in the same form.
"God acts as the echo of our own deeds."
The master said: "When we sense that the time has come for a change, we
begin -- unconsciously -- to run the tape again, to view every defeat we
have experienced until then. "And, of course, as we grow older, our number
of difficult moments grows larger. But, at the same time, experience
provides us with better means of overcoming those defeats, and of finding
the path that allows us to go forward. We have to play that second tape on
our mental VCR, too. "If we only watch the tape of our defeats, we become
paralyzed. If we only watch the tape of our successes, we wind up thinking
we are wiser than we really are. "We need both of those tapes."
The disciple said to his master: "I have spent most of the day thinking
about things I should not be thinking about, desiring things I should not
desire and making plans I should not be making." The master invited the
disciple to take a walk with him through the forest behind his house. Along
the way, he pointed to a plant, and asked the disciple if he knew its name.
"Belladonna," said the disciple. "It can kill anyone who eats its leaves."
"But it cannot kill anyone who simply observes it," said the master.
"Likewise, negative desires can cause no evil if you do not allow yourself
to be seduced by them."
Between France and Spain is a range of mountains. In one of those
mountains, there is a village named Argeles, and in the village is a hill
leading to the valley. Every afternoon, an old man climbs and descends the
hill. When the wanderer went to Argeles for the first time, he was not aware
of this. On his second visit, he noticed that he crossed paths with the same
man. And every time he went to the village, he perceived the man in greater
detail -- his clothing, his beret, his cane, his glasses. Nowadays, whenever
he thinks about that village, he thinks of the old man, as well -- even
though he is not aware that this is true. Only once did the wanderer ever
speak to the man. In a joking fashion, he asked the man, "Do you think that
God lives in these beautiful mountains surrounding us?" "God lives," said
the old man, "in those places where they allow Him to enter."
The master met one night with his disciples, and asked them to build a
campfire so they could sit and talk. "The spiritual path is like a fire that
burns before us," he said. "A man who wants to light the fire has to bear
with the disagreeable smoke that makes it difficult for him to breathe, and
brings tears to his eyes. That is how his faith is rediscovered. However,
once the fire is rekindled, the smoke disappears, and the flames illuminate
everything around him -- providing heat and tranquility." "But what if
someone else lights the fire for him?" asked one of the disciples. "And if
someone helps us to avoid the smoke?" "If someone does that, he is a false
master. A master capable of taking the fire to wherever he desires, or of
extinguishing it whenever he wants to do so. And, since he has taught no one
how to light the fire, he is likely to leave everyone in the darkness."
"When you strike out along your path, you will find a door with a
phrase written upon it," says the master. "Come back to me, and tell me what
the phrase says." The disciple gives himself to the search, body and soul,
and one day comes upon the door, and then returns to his master. "What was
written there was 'THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE,' he says." "Was that written on a
wall or on a door?" the master asks. "On a door," the disciple answers.
"Well, then, put your hand on the doorknob and open it." The disciple
obeyed. Since the phrase was painted with the door, it gave way just as the
door itself did. With the door completely open, he could no longer see the
phrase -- and he went on.
The master says: "Close your eyes. Or even with your eyes open, imagine
the following scene: a flock of birds on the wing. Now, tell me how many
birds you saw: Five? Eleven? Sixteen? Whatever the response -- and it is
difficult for someone to say how many birds were seen -- one thing becomes
quite clear in this small experiment. You can imagine a flock of birds, but
the number of birds in the flock is beyond your control. Yet the scene was
clear, well-defined, exact. There must be an answer to the question. Who was
it that determined how many birds should appear in the imagined scene? Not
you!"
A man decided to visit a hermit who, he had been told, lived not far
from the monastery at Sceta. After wandering aimlessly about the desert, he
finally found the monk. "I need to know what is the first step that should
be taken along the spiritual path," he said. The hermit took the man to a
small well, and told him to look at his reflection in the water. The man
tried to do so, but as he made his attempt, the hermit threw pebbles into
the water, causing the surface to be disturbed. "I won't be able to see my
face in the water if you keep throwing those pebbles," said the man. "Just
as it is impossible for a man to see his face in
troер6tГ it promises of Paradise, visions of
the Absolute, provide esoteric explanations -- but they do not apply. Take a
deep breath, and prepare yourself. I have to be blunt, and I assure you, I
am absolutely certain of what I'm telling you. It is an infallible
prediction, without any doubt whatsoever. It's the following: you are going
to die. It may be tomorrow or fifty years from now, but -- sooner or later
--you are going to die. Even if you would rather not. Even if you have other
plans. Think carefully about what you are going to do today. And tomorrow.
And with the rest of your life."
An explorer, a white man, anxious to reach his destination in the heart
of Africa, promised an extra payment to his bearers if they would make
greater speed. For several days, the bearers moved along at a faster pace.
One afternoon, though, they all suddenly put down their burden and sat on
the ground. No matter how much money they were offered, they refused to move
on. When the explorer finally asked why they were behaving as they were, he
was given the following answer: "We have been moving along at such a fast
pace that we no longer know what we are doing. Now we have to wait until our
soul catches up with us."
Our Lady, with the infant Jesus in her arms, came down to earth to
visit a monastery. In their joy, the padres stood in line to pay their
respects: one of them recited poetry, another showed Her illuminated images
for the Bible, another recited the names of all of the saints. At the end of
the line was a humble padre who had never had the chance to learn from the
wise men of his time. His parents were simple people who worked in a
traveling circus. When his turn came, the monks wanted to end the payment of
respects, fearful that he would damage their image. But he, too, wanted to
show his love for the Virgin. Embarrassed, and sensing the disapproval of
the brothers, he took some oranges from his pocket and began to toss them in
the air -- juggling as his parents with the circus had taught him. It was
only then that the infant Jesus smiled and clapped his hands with joy. And
it was only to the humble monk that the Virgin held out her arms, allowing
him to hold her Son for a while.
Do not always try to be consistent. Saint Paul, after all, said, "The
wisdom of the world is madness in the eyes of God." To be consistent is
always to wear a tie that matches one's socks. It is to have the same
opinions tomorrow as one has today. And the movement of the planet? Where is
it? So long as you do no harm to another, change your opinion once in a
while. Contradict yourself without being embarrassed. This is your right. It
doesn't matter what others think -- because that's what they will think, in
any case. So, relax. Let the universe move about. Discover the joy of
surprising yourself. "God selected the crazy things on the earth so as to
embarrass the wise men," said Saint Paul.
The master says: "Today would be a good day for doing something out of
the ordinary. We could, for example, dance through the streets on our way to
work. Look directly into the eyes of a stranger, and speak of love at first
sight. Give the boss an idea that may seem ridiculous, an idea we've never
mentioned before. The Warriors of the Light allow themselves such days.
Today, we could cry over some ancient injustices that still stick in our
craw. We could phone someone we vowed never to speak to again (but from whom
we would love to receive a message on the answering machine). Today could be
considered a day outside the script that we write every morning. Today, any
fault will be permitted and forgiven. Today is a day to enjoy life."
The scientist, Roger Penrose, was walking with some friends and talking
animatedly. He fell silent only in order to cross the street. "I remember
that -- as I was crossing the street -- an incredible idea came to me,"
Penrose said. "But, as soon as we reached the other side, we picked up where
we left off, and I couldn't remember what I thought of just a few seconds
earlier." Late in the afternoon, Penrose began to feel euphoric -- without
knowing why. "I had the feeling that something had been revealed to me," he
said. He decided to go back over every minute of the day, and -- when he
remembered the moment when he was crossing the street -- the idea came back
to him. This time, he wrote it down. It was the theory of black holes, a
revolutionary theory in modern physics. And it came back to him because
Penrose was able to recall the silence that we always fall into as we cross
a street. Saint Anton was living in the desert when a young man approached
him. "Father, I sold everything I owned, and gave the proceeds to the poor.
I kept only a few things that could help me to survive out here. I would
like you to show me the path to salvation."
Saint Anton asked that the lad sell the few things that he had kept,
and -- with the money -- buy some meat in the city. When he returned, he was
to strap the meat to his body. The young man did as he was instructed. As he
was returning, he was attacked by dogs and falcons who wanted the meat. "I'm
back," said the young man, showing the father his wounded body and his
tattered clothing. "Those who embark in a new direction and want to keep a
bit of the old life, wind up lacerated by their own past," said the saint.
The master says: "Make use of every blessing that God gave you today. A
blessing cannot be saved. There is no bank where we can deposit blessings
received, to use them when we see fit. If you do not use them, they will be
irretrievably lost. God knows that we are creative artists when it comes to
our lives. On one day, he gives us clay for sculpting, on another, brushes
and canvas, or a pen. But we can never use clay on our canvas, nor pens in
sculpture. Each day has its own miracle. Accept the blessings, work, and
create your minor works of art today. Tomorrow you will receive others."
The monastery on the bank of the Rio Piedra is surrounded by beautiful
vegetation -- it is a true oasis within the sterile fields of that part of
Spain. There, the small river becomes a mighty current, and is split into
dozens of waterfalls. The wanderer is walking through the area, hearing the
music of the waters. Suddenly, a grotto -- behind one of the cataracts --
captures his attention. He studies the rocks, worn by time, and regards the
lovely forms created patiently by nature. And he finds a verse by R. Tagore
inscribed on a plaque: "It was not a hammer that made these rocks so
perfect, but water -- with its sweetness, its dance and its song." Where
force can only destroy, gentleness can sculpt.
The master says: "Many people are fearful of happiness. For such
persons, to be content in life means they must change a number of their
habits -- and lose their sense of identity. Often we become indignant at the
good things that befall us. We do not accept them, because to do so causes
us to feel that we are in God's debt. We think: 'Better not to drink from
the chalice of happiness, because, when it is empty, we will suffer
greatly.' Out of a fear of shrinking, we fail to grow. Out of a fear of
weeping, we fail to laugh."
One afternoon at the monastery at Sceta, one of the monks offended
another. The superior of the monastery, Brother Sisois, asked that the
offended monk forgive his aggressor. "I cannot do that," responded the monk.
"It was he that did this, and it he who must pay." At that very moment,
Brother Sisois raised his arms to heaven and began to pray: "My Jesus, we no
longer have need of thee. We are now capable of making the aggressor pay for
his offenses. We are now able to take vengeance into our own hands, and to
deal with Good and Evil. Therefore, You can leave us on our own, and their
will be no problem." Ashamed, the monk immediately pardoned his brother.
A disciple said, "All masters say that spiritual treasure is discovered
through solitary search. So, then, why are we all together here?" "You are
together because a forest is always stronger than a solitary tree," the
master answered. "The forest conserves humidity, resists the hurricane and
helps the soil to be fertile. But what makes a tree strong is its roots. And
the roots of a plant cannot help another plant to grow. To be joined
together in the same purpose is to allow each person to grow in his own
fashion, and that is the path of those who wish to commune with God."
When the wanderer was ten years old, his mother insisted that he take a
course in physical education. One of the activities required him to jump
from a bridge into a river. Early in the course, he was paralyzed by fear.
Each day, he stood last in line, and suffered every time one of those in
front made his jump -- because it would shortly be his turn. One day, the
instructor -- noticing his fear -- made him take the first jump. Although he
was still frightened, it was over so quickly that the fright was replaced by
courage. The master says: "Often, we can afford to take our time. But there
are occasions when we must roll up our sleeves and resolve a situation. In
such cases, there is nothing worse than delay."
Buddha was seated among his disciples one morning when a man approached
the gathering. "Does God exist," he asked. "Yes, God exists," Buddha
answered. After lunch, another man appeared. "Does God exist?" he asked.
"No, God does not exist," Buddha answered. Late in the day, a third man
asked Buddha the same question, and Buddha's response was: "You must decide
for yourself." "Master, this is absurd," said one of the disciples. "How can
you give three different answers to the same question?" "Because they were
different persons," answered the Enlightened One. "And each person
approaches God in his own way: some with certainty, some with denial and
some with doubt."
We are all concerned with taking action, doing things, resolving
problems, providing for others. We are always trying to plan something,
conclude something else, discover a third. There is nothing wrong with that
-- after all, that is how we build and modify the world. But the act of
Adoration is also a part of life. To stop from time to time, to escape one's
self, and to stand silent before the Universe. To kneel down, body and soul.
Without asking for something, without thinking, without even giving thanks
for anything. Just to experience the warmth of the love that surrounds us.
At such moments, unexpected tears may appear -- tears neither of happiness
nor sadness. Do not be surprised at that. It is a gift. The tears are
cleansing your soul.
The master says: "If you must cry, cry like a child. You were once a
child, and one of the first things you learned in life was to cry, because
crying is a part of life. Never forget that you are free, and that to show
your emotions is not shameful. Scream, sob loudly, make as much noise as you
like. Because that is how children cry, and they know the fastest way to put
their hearts at ease. "Have you ever noticed how children stop crying? They
stop because something distracts them. Something calls them to the next
adventure. Children stop crying very quickly. And that's how it will be for
you. But only if you can cry as children do."
The wanderer is having lunch with a woman friend, an attorney in Fort
Lauderdale. A highly animated drunk at the next table insists on talking to
her throughout the meal. At one point, the friend asks the drunk to quiet
down. But he says: "Why? I'm talking about love in a way that a sober person
never does. I'm happy, I'm trying to communicate with strangers. What's
wrong with that?" "This isn't the appropriate time," she said. "You mean
there are only certain times that are appropriate for showing one's
happiness?" With that, the drunk is invited to share her table.
The master says: "We must care for our body. It is the temple of the
Holy Spirit, and deserves our respect and affection. We must make the best
use of our time. We must fight for our dreams, and concentrate our efforts
to that end. But we must not forget that life is made up of small pleasures.
They were placed here to encourage us, assist us in our search, and provide
moments of surcease from our daily battles. It is not a sin to be happy.
There is nothing wrong in -- from time to time -- breaking certain rules
regarding diet, sleep and happiness. Do not criticize yourself if -- once in
a while -- you waste your time on trifles. These are the small pleasures
that stimulate us."
The pianist Artur Rubinstein was late arriving for lunch at a first
class restaurant in New York. His friends began to be concerned, but
Rubinstein finally appeared, with a spectacular blonde, one-third his age,
at his side. Known to be something of a cheapskate, he surprised his friends
by ordering the most expensive entree, and the rarest, most sophisticated
wine. When lunch was over, he paid the bill with a smile. "I can see that
you are all surprised," Rubinstein said. "But today, I went to my lawyer's
to prepare my will. I left a goodly amount to my daughter and to my
WWW: http://www.paulocoelho.com.br
Paulo Coelho. Maktub
Dedicated to Nha Chica
"Maktub" means "It is written." The Arabs feel that "It is written" is
not really a good translation, because, although everything is already
written, God is compassionate, and wrote it all down just to help us.
The wanderer is in New York. He has overslept an appointment, and when
he leaves his hotel, he finds that his car has been towed by the police. He
arrives late for his appointment, the luncheon lasts longer than necessary,
and he is thinking about the fine he will have to pay. It will cost a
fortune. Suddenly, he remembers the dollar bill he found in the street the
day before. He sees some kind of weird relationship between the dollar bill
and what happened to him that morning. "Who knows, perhaps I found that
money before the person who was supposed to find it had the chance? Maybe I
removed that dollar bill from the path of someone who really needed it. Who
knows but what I interfered with what was written?" He feels the need to rid
himself of the dollar bill, and at that moment sees a beggar sitting on the
sidewalk. He quickly hands him the bill, and feels that he has restored a
kind of equilibrium to things. "Just a minute," says the beggar. "I'm not
looking for a handout. I'm a poet, and I want to read you a poem in return."
"Well, make it a short one, because I'm in a hurry," says the wanderer. The
beggar says, "If you are still living, it's because you have not yet arrived
at the place you should be."
Think of the lizard. It spends most of its life on the ground, envying
the birds and indignant at its fate and its shape. "I am the most disliked
of all the creatures," it thinks. "Ugly, repulsive, and condemned to crawl
along the ground." One day, though, Mother Nature asks the lizard to make a
cocoon. The lizard is startled -- it has never made a cocoon before. He
thinks that he is building his tomb, and prepares to die. Although unhappy
with the life he has led up until then, he complains to God: "Just when I
finally became accustomed to things, Lord, you take away what little I
have." In desperation, he locks himself into the cocoon and awaits the end.
Some days later, he finds that he has been transformed into a beautiful
butterfly. He is able to fly to the sky, and he is greatly admired. He is
surprised at the meaning of life and at God's designs.
A stranger sought out the Father Superior at the monastery of Sceta. "I
want to make my life better," he said. "But I cannot keep myself from having
sinful thoughts." The father noticed that the wind was blowing briskly
outside, and said to the stranger: "It's quite hot in here. I wonder if you
could seize a bit of that wind outside and bring it here to cool the room."
"That's impossible," the stranger said. "It is also impossible to keep
yourself from thinking of things that offend God," answered the monk. "But,
if you know how to say no to temptation, they will cause you no harm."
The master says: "If a decision needs to be made, it is better to make
it and deal with the consequences. You cannot know beforehand what those
consequences will be. The arts of divination were developed in order to
counsel people, never to predict the future. They provide good advice, but
poor prophecy. "In one of the prayers that Jesus taught us, it says, 'God's
will be done.' When His will causes a problem, it also presents a solution.
If the arts of divination were able to predict the future, every soothsayer
would be wealthy, married and content."
The disciple approached his master: "For years I have been seeking
illumination," he said. "I feel that I am close to achieving it. I need to
know what the next step is." "How do you support yourself?" the master
asked. "I haven't yet learned how to support myself; my parents help me out.
But that is only a detail." "Your next step is to look directly at the sun
for half a minute," said the master. And the disciple obeyed. When the
half-minute was over, the master asked him to describe the field that
surrounded them. "I can't see it. The sun has affected my vision," the
disciple said. "A man who seeks only the light, while shirking his
responsibilities, will never find illumination. And one who keep his eyes
fixed upon the sun ends up blind," was the master's comment.
A man was hiking through a valley in the Pyrenees, when he met an old
shepherd. He shared his food with him, and they sat together for a long
time, talking about life. The man said that, if one believed in God, he
would also have to admit that he was not free, since God would govern every
step. In response, the shepherd led him to a ravine where one could hear --
with absolute clarity -- the echo to any sound. "Life is these walls, and
fate is the shout that each of us makes," said the shepherd. "What we do
will be raised to His heart, and will be returned to us in the same form.
"God acts as the echo of our own deeds."
The master said: "When we sense that the time has come for a change, we
begin -- unconsciously -- to run the tape again, to view every defeat we
have experienced until then. "And, of course, as we grow older, our number
of difficult moments grows larger. But, at the same time, experience
provides us with better means of overcoming those defeats, and of finding
the path that allows us to go forward. We have to play that second tape on
our mental VCR, too. "If we only watch the tape of our defeats, we become
paralyzed. If we only watch the tape of our successes, we wind up thinking
we are wiser than we really are. "We need both of those tapes."
The disciple said to his master: "I have spent most of the day thinking
about things I should not be thinking about, desiring things I should not
desire and making plans I should not be making." The master invited the
disciple to take a walk with him through the forest behind his house. Along
the way, he pointed to a plant, and asked the disciple if he knew its name.
"Belladonna," said the disciple. "It can kill anyone who eats its leaves."
"But it cannot kill anyone who simply observes it," said the master.
"Likewise, negative desires can cause no evil if you do not allow yourself
to be seduced by them."
Between France and Spain is a range of mountains. In one of those
mountains, there is a village named Argeles, and in the village is a hill
leading to the valley. Every afternoon, an old man climbs and descends the
hill. When the wanderer went to Argeles for the first time, he was not aware
of this. On his second visit, he noticed that he crossed paths with the same
man. And every time he went to the village, he perceived the man in greater
detail -- his clothing, his beret, his cane, his glasses. Nowadays, whenever
he thinks about that village, he thinks of the old man, as well -- even
though he is not aware that this is true. Only once did the wanderer ever
speak to the man. In a joking fashion, he asked the man, "Do you think that
God lives in these beautiful mountains surrounding us?" "God lives," said
the old man, "in those places where they allow Him to enter."
The master met one night with his disciples, and asked them to build a
campfire so they could sit and talk. "The spiritual path is like a fire that
burns before us," he said. "A man who wants to light the fire has to bear
with the disagreeable smoke that makes it difficult for him to breathe, and
brings tears to his eyes. That is how his faith is rediscovered. However,
once the fire is rekindled, the smoke disappears, and the flames illuminate
everything around him -- providing heat and tranquility." "But what if
someone else lights the fire for him?" asked one of the disciples. "And if
someone helps us to avoid the smoke?" "If someone does that, he is a false
master. A master capable of taking the fire to wherever he desires, or of
extinguishing it whenever he wants to do so. And, since he has taught no one
how to light the fire, he is likely to leave everyone in the darkness."
"When you strike out along your path, you will find a door with a
phrase written upon it," says the master. "Come back to me, and tell me what
the phrase says." The disciple gives himself to the search, body and soul,
and one day comes upon the door, and then returns to his master. "What was
written there was 'THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE,' he says." "Was that written on a
wall or on a door?" the master asks. "On a door," the disciple answers.
"Well, then, put your hand on the doorknob and open it." The disciple
obeyed. Since the phrase was painted with the door, it gave way just as the
door itself did. With the door completely open, he could no longer see the
phrase -- and he went on.
The master says: "Close your eyes. Or even with your eyes open, imagine
the following scene: a flock of birds on the wing. Now, tell me how many
birds you saw: Five? Eleven? Sixteen? Whatever the response -- and it is
difficult for someone to say how many birds were seen -- one thing becomes
quite clear in this small experiment. You can imagine a flock of birds, but
the number of birds in the flock is beyond your control. Yet the scene was
clear, well-defined, exact. There must be an answer to the question. Who was
it that determined how many birds should appear in the imagined scene? Not
you!"
A man decided to visit a hermit who, he had been told, lived not far
from the monastery at Sceta. After wandering aimlessly about the desert, he
finally found the monk. "I need to know what is the first step that should
be taken along the spiritual path," he said. The hermit took the man to a
small well, and told him to look at his reflection in the water. The man
tried to do so, but as he made his attempt, the hermit threw pebbles into
the water, causing the surface to be disturbed. "I won't be able to see my
face in the water if you keep throwing those pebbles," said the man. "Just
as it is impossible for a man to see his face in
troер6tГ it promises of Paradise, visions of
the Absolute, provide esoteric explanations -- but they do not apply. Take a
deep breath, and prepare yourself. I have to be blunt, and I assure you, I
am absolutely certain of what I'm telling you. It is an infallible
prediction, without any doubt whatsoever. It's the following: you are going
to die. It may be tomorrow or fifty years from now, but -- sooner or later
--you are going to die. Even if you would rather not. Even if you have other
plans. Think carefully about what you are going to do today. And tomorrow.
And with the rest of your life."
An explorer, a white man, anxious to reach his destination in the heart
of Africa, promised an extra payment to his bearers if they would make
greater speed. For several days, the bearers moved along at a faster pace.
One afternoon, though, they all suddenly put down their burden and sat on
the ground. No matter how much money they were offered, they refused to move
on. When the explorer finally asked why they were behaving as they were, he
was given the following answer: "We have been moving along at such a fast
pace that we no longer know what we are doing. Now we have to wait until our
soul catches up with us."
Our Lady, with the infant Jesus in her arms, came down to earth to
visit a monastery. In their joy, the padres stood in line to pay their
respects: one of them recited poetry, another showed Her illuminated images
for the Bible, another recited the names of all of the saints. At the end of
the line was a humble padre who had never had the chance to learn from the
wise men of his time. His parents were simple people who worked in a
traveling circus. When his turn came, the monks wanted to end the payment of
respects, fearful that he would damage their image. But he, too, wanted to
show his love for the Virgin. Embarrassed, and sensing the disapproval of
the brothers, he took some oranges from his pocket and began to toss them in
the air -- juggling as his parents with the circus had taught him. It was
only then that the infant Jesus smiled and clapped his hands with joy. And
it was only to the humble monk that the Virgin held out her arms, allowing
him to hold her Son for a while.
Do not always try to be consistent. Saint Paul, after all, said, "The
wisdom of the world is madness in the eyes of God." To be consistent is
always to wear a tie that matches one's socks. It is to have the same
opinions tomorrow as one has today. And the movement of the planet? Where is
it? So long as you do no harm to another, change your opinion once in a
while. Contradict yourself without being embarrassed. This is your right. It
doesn't matter what others think -- because that's what they will think, in
any case. So, relax. Let the universe move about. Discover the joy of
surprising yourself. "God selected the crazy things on the earth so as to
embarrass the wise men," said Saint Paul.
The master says: "Today would be a good day for doing something out of
the ordinary. We could, for example, dance through the streets on our way to
work. Look directly into the eyes of a stranger, and speak of love at first
sight. Give the boss an idea that may seem ridiculous, an idea we've never
mentioned before. The Warriors of the Light allow themselves such days.
Today, we could cry over some ancient injustices that still stick in our
craw. We could phone someone we vowed never to speak to again (but from whom
we would love to receive a message on the answering machine). Today could be
considered a day outside the script that we write every morning. Today, any
fault will be permitted and forgiven. Today is a day to enjoy life."
The scientist, Roger Penrose, was walking with some friends and talking
animatedly. He fell silent only in order to cross the street. "I remember
that -- as I was crossing the street -- an incredible idea came to me,"
Penrose said. "But, as soon as we reached the other side, we picked up where
we left off, and I couldn't remember what I thought of just a few seconds
earlier." Late in the afternoon, Penrose began to feel euphoric -- without
knowing why. "I had the feeling that something had been revealed to me," he
said. He decided to go back over every minute of the day, and -- when he
remembered the moment when he was crossing the street -- the idea came back
to him. This time, he wrote it down. It was the theory of black holes, a
revolutionary theory in modern physics. And it came back to him because
Penrose was able to recall the silence that we always fall into as we cross
a street. Saint Anton was living in the desert when a young man approached
him. "Father, I sold everything I owned, and gave the proceeds to the poor.
I kept only a few things that could help me to survive out here. I would
like you to show me the path to salvation."
Saint Anton asked that the lad sell the few things that he had kept,
and -- with the money -- buy some meat in the city. When he returned, he was
to strap the meat to his body. The young man did as he was instructed. As he
was returning, he was attacked by dogs and falcons who wanted the meat. "I'm
back," said the young man, showing the father his wounded body and his
tattered clothing. "Those who embark in a new direction and want to keep a
bit of the old life, wind up lacerated by their own past," said the saint.
The master says: "Make use of every blessing that God gave you today. A
blessing cannot be saved. There is no bank where we can deposit blessings
received, to use them when we see fit. If you do not use them, they will be
irretrievably lost. God knows that we are creative artists when it comes to
our lives. On one day, he gives us clay for sculpting, on another, brushes
and canvas, or a pen. But we can never use clay on our canvas, nor pens in
sculpture. Each day has its own miracle. Accept the blessings, work, and
create your minor works of art today. Tomorrow you will receive others."
The monastery on the bank of the Rio Piedra is surrounded by beautiful
vegetation -- it is a true oasis within the sterile fields of that part of
Spain. There, the small river becomes a mighty current, and is split into
dozens of waterfalls. The wanderer is walking through the area, hearing the
music of the waters. Suddenly, a grotto -- behind one of the cataracts --
captures his attention. He studies the rocks, worn by time, and regards the
lovely forms created patiently by nature. And he finds a verse by R. Tagore
inscribed on a plaque: "It was not a hammer that made these rocks so
perfect, but water -- with its sweetness, its dance and its song." Where
force can only destroy, gentleness can sculpt.
The master says: "Many people are fearful of happiness. For such
persons, to be content in life means they must change a number of their
habits -- and lose their sense of identity. Often we become indignant at the
good things that befall us. We do not accept them, because to do so causes
us to feel that we are in God's debt. We think: 'Better not to drink from
the chalice of happiness, because, when it is empty, we will suffer
greatly.' Out of a fear of shrinking, we fail to grow. Out of a fear of
weeping, we fail to laugh."
One afternoon at the monastery at Sceta, one of the monks offended
another. The superior of the monastery, Brother Sisois, asked that the
offended monk forgive his aggressor. "I cannot do that," responded the monk.
"It was he that did this, and it he who must pay." At that very moment,
Brother Sisois raised his arms to heaven and began to pray: "My Jesus, we no
longer have need of thee. We are now capable of making the aggressor pay for
his offenses. We are now able to take vengeance into our own hands, and to
deal with Good and Evil. Therefore, You can leave us on our own, and their
will be no problem." Ashamed, the monk immediately pardoned his brother.
A disciple said, "All masters say that spiritual treasure is discovered
through solitary search. So, then, why are we all together here?" "You are
together because a forest is always stronger than a solitary tree," the
master answered. "The forest conserves humidity, resists the hurricane and
helps the soil to be fertile. But what makes a tree strong is its roots. And
the roots of a plant cannot help another plant to grow. To be joined
together in the same purpose is to allow each person to grow in his own
fashion, and that is the path of those who wish to commune with God."
When the wanderer was ten years old, his mother insisted that he take a
course in physical education. One of the activities required him to jump
from a bridge into a river. Early in the course, he was paralyzed by fear.
Each day, he stood last in line, and suffered every time one of those in
front made his jump -- because it would shortly be his turn. One day, the
instructor -- noticing his fear -- made him take the first jump. Although he
was still frightened, it was over so quickly that the fright was replaced by
courage. The master says: "Often, we can afford to take our time. But there
are occasions when we must roll up our sleeves and resolve a situation. In
such cases, there is nothing worse than delay."
Buddha was seated among his disciples one morning when a man approached
the gathering. "Does God exist," he asked. "Yes, God exists," Buddha
answered. After lunch, another man appeared. "Does God exist?" he asked.
"No, God does not exist," Buddha answered. Late in the day, a third man
asked Buddha the same question, and Buddha's response was: "You must decide
for yourself." "Master, this is absurd," said one of the disciples. "How can
you give three different answers to the same question?" "Because they were
different persons," answered the Enlightened One. "And each person
approaches God in his own way: some with certainty, some with denial and
some with doubt."
We are all concerned with taking action, doing things, resolving
problems, providing for others. We are always trying to plan something,
conclude something else, discover a third. There is nothing wrong with that
-- after all, that is how we build and modify the world. But the act of
Adoration is also a part of life. To stop from time to time, to escape one's
self, and to stand silent before the Universe. To kneel down, body and soul.
Without asking for something, without thinking, without even giving thanks
for anything. Just to experience the warmth of the love that surrounds us.
At such moments, unexpected tears may appear -- tears neither of happiness
nor sadness. Do not be surprised at that. It is a gift. The tears are
cleansing your soul.
The master says: "If you must cry, cry like a child. You were once a
child, and one of the first things you learned in life was to cry, because
crying is a part of life. Never forget that you are free, and that to show
your emotions is not shameful. Scream, sob loudly, make as much noise as you
like. Because that is how children cry, and they know the fastest way to put
their hearts at ease. "Have you ever noticed how children stop crying? They
stop because something distracts them. Something calls them to the next
adventure. Children stop crying very quickly. And that's how it will be for
you. But only if you can cry as children do."
The wanderer is having lunch with a woman friend, an attorney in Fort
Lauderdale. A highly animated drunk at the next table insists on talking to
her throughout the meal. At one point, the friend asks the drunk to quiet
down. But he says: "Why? I'm talking about love in a way that a sober person
never does. I'm happy, I'm trying to communicate with strangers. What's
wrong with that?" "This isn't the appropriate time," she said. "You mean
there are only certain times that are appropriate for showing one's
happiness?" With that, the drunk is invited to share her table.
The master says: "We must care for our body. It is the temple of the
Holy Spirit, and deserves our respect and affection. We must make the best
use of our time. We must fight for our dreams, and concentrate our efforts
to that end. But we must not forget that life is made up of small pleasures.
They were placed here to encourage us, assist us in our search, and provide
moments of surcease from our daily battles. It is not a sin to be happy.
There is nothing wrong in -- from time to time -- breaking certain rules
regarding diet, sleep and happiness. Do not criticize yourself if -- once in
a while -- you waste your time on trifles. These are the small pleasures
that stimulate us."
The pianist Artur Rubinstein was late arriving for lunch at a first
class restaurant in New York. His friends began to be concerned, but
Rubinstein finally appeared, with a spectacular blonde, one-third his age,
at his side. Known to be something of a cheapskate, he surprised his friends
by ordering the most expensive entree, and the rarest, most sophisticated
wine. When lunch was over, he paid the bill with a smile. "I can see that
you are all surprised," Rubinstein said. "But today, I went to my lawyer's
to prepare my will. I left a goodly amount to my daughter and to my
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