Sri Ramakrishna tells of a man who was just

97Share

Sri Ramakrishna tells of a man who was just about to cross a river when the teacher Bibhishana approached him, wrote a name on a piece of paper, fixed it to the man’s back and said:
‘Fear not. Your faith will help you to walk upon the waters. But the moment you lose your faith, you will drown.’
The man trusted Bibhishana and began to walk effortlessly across the waters. At one point, however, he had an immense desire to know what his teacher had written on the piece of paper fixed to his back.
He got hold of it and read what was written on it: ‘Oh God Rama, help this man to cross the river.’
‘Is that all?’ thought the man. ‘Who is this god Rama anyway?’
As soon as doubt entered his mind, he went under and was drowned.

It does not matter how slowly you go as long

By three methods we may learn wisdom:
First, by reflection, which is noblest;
Second, by imitation, which is easiest;
and third by experience, which is the bitterest.
Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life.
Do not impose on others what you yourself do not desire.
Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.
Faced with what is right, to leave it undone shows a lack of courage.
He who learns but does not think, is lost! He who thinks but does not learn is in great danger.
I hear and I forget. I see and I remember. I do and I understand.
If I am walking with two other men, each of them will serve as my teacher. I will pick out the good points of the one and imitate them, and the bad points of the other and correct them in myself.
It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.
It is easy to hate and it is difficult to love. This is how the whole scheme of things works. All good things are difficult to achieve; and bad things are very easy to get.
It is more shameful to distrust our friends than to be deceived by them.
Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.
Look at the means which a man employs, consider his motives, observe his pleasures. A man simply cannot conceal himself!
Never contract friendship with a man that is not better than thyself.
Never give a sword to a man who can’t dance.
Only the wisest and stupidest of men never change.

Master and disciple are walking through

9424Share

Master and disciple are walking through the deserts of Arabia. The Master uses each moment of the journey to teach his disciple about faith.
“Entrust your things to God,” he said. “Because He never abandons His children.”
When they camped down at night, the Master asked the disciple to tie the horses to a nearby rock.
The disciple went over to the rock, but then remembered what he had learned that afternoon. “The Master must be testing me. The truth is that I should entrust the horses to God.”
And he left the horses loose.
In the morning he discovered that the animals had run off. Indignant, he sought out the Master.
“You know nothing about God! Yesterday I learned that I should trust blindly in Providence, so I gave the horses to Him to guard, and the animals have disappeared!”
“God wanted to look after the horses,” answered the Master. “But at that moment he needed your hands to tie them up and you did not lend them to Him.”

A friend came to wait on our table

A friend came to wait on our table – at a café in San Diego, California.
I had met Cláudia in Brazil four years previously, and tell my friends about her life in the USA: she only sleeps for three hours, since she works in this café till late, and is a babysitter throughout the day.
"I don’t know how she can stand it," one of them says.
"There’s a Buddhist story about a turtle," replies an Argentinian woman at our table.
"The turtle was crossing a swamp, covered in mud, when it passed a temple. There it saw the shell of another turtle – all adorned with gold and precious stones.
"I don’t envy you, ancient friend," thought the turtle. "You’re covered in jewels, but I’m doing what I want."

Those who do nothing are always tired and pay

24KShare

The first symptom of the process of our killing our dreams is the lack of time. The busiest people I have known in my life always have time enough to do everything. Those who do nothing are always tired and pay no attention to the little amount of work they are required to do. They complain constantly that the day is too short. The truth is, they are afraid to fight the Good Fight.
The second symptom of the death of our dreams lies in our certainties. Because we don’t want to see life as a grand adventure, we begin to think of ourselves as wise and fair and correct in asking so little of life. We look beyond the walls of our day-to-day existence, and we hear the sound of lances breaking, we smell the dust and the sweat, and we see the great defeats and the fire in the eyes of the warriors. But we never see the delight, the immense delight in the hearts of those who are engaged in the battle. For them, neither victory nor defeat is important; what’s important is only that they are fighting the Good Fight.
And, finally, the third symptom of the passing of our dreams is peace. Life becomes a Sunday afternoon; we ask for nothing grand, and we cease to demand anything more than we are willing to give. In that state, we think of ourselves as being mature; we put aside the fantasies of our youth, and we seek personal and professional achievement. We are surprised when people our age say that they still want this or that out of life. But really, deep in our hearts, we know that what has happened is that we have renounced the battle for our dreams – we have refused to fight the Good Fight.
When we renounce our dreams and find peace, we go through a short period of tranquility. But the dead dreams begin to rot within us and to infect our entire being.
We become cruel to those around us, and then we begin to direct this cruelty against ourselves. That’s when illnesses and psychoses arise. What we sought to avoid in combat – disappointment and defeat – come upon us because of our cowardice.
And one day, the dead, spoiled dreams make it difficult to breathe, and we actually seek death. It’s death that frees us from our certainties, from our work, and from that terrible peace of our Sunday afternoons

A very wealthy man asked a Zen master

111Share

A very wealthy man asked a Zen master for a text which would always remind him how happy he was with his family.
The Zen master took some parchment and, in beautiful calligraphy, wrote:
– The father dies. The son dies. The grandson dies.
– What? – said the furious rich man. – I asked you for something to inspire me, some teaching which might be respectfully contemplated by future generations, and you give me something as depressing and gloomy as these words?
– You asked me for something which would remind you of the happiness of living together with your family. If your son dies first, everyone will be devastated by the pain. If your grandson dies, it would be an unbearable experience.
“However, if your family disappears in the order which I placed on the paper, this is the natural course of life. Thus, although we all endure moments of pain, the generations will continue, and your legacy will be long-lasting.”

do not know how to light the holy fire

7338Share

The great Rabbi Israel Shem Tov, when he saw that the people in his village were being mistreated, went into the forest, lit a holy fire, and said a special prayer, asking God to protect his people.
And God sent him a miracle.
Later, his disciple Maggid de Mezritch, following in his master’s footsteps, would go to the same part of the forest and say:
“Master of the Universe, I do not know how to light the holy fire, but I do know the special prayer; hear me, please!”
The miracle always came about.
A generation passed, and Rabbi Moshe-leib of Sasov, when he saw the war approaching, went to the forest, saying:
“I don’t know how to light the holy fire, nor do I know the special prayer, but I still remember the place. Help us, Lord!”
And the Lord helped.
Fifty years later, Rabbi Israel de Rizhin, in his wheelchair, spoke to God:
“I don’t know how to light the holy fire, nor the prayer, and I can’t even find the place in the forest. All I can do is tell this story, and hope God hears me.”
And telling the story was enough for the danger to pass.