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PRAYER

August 19, 2009 By: Category: Philosophy

A voyaging ship was wrecked during a storm at sea and only two of the men on it were able to swim to a small, desert like island. The two survivors not knowing what else to do, agree that they have no other recourse but to pray to God.

However, to find out whose prayer was more powerful, they agreed to divide the territory between them and stay on opposite sides of the island.

The first thing they prayed for was food. The next morning, the first man saw a fruit-bearing tree on his side of the land, and! he was able to eat its fruit. The other man’s parcel of land remained barren.

After a week, the first man was lonely and he decided to pray for a wife. The next day, there was a woman who swam to his side of the land. On the other side of the island, there was nothing.

Soon the first man prayed for a house, clothes, more food. The next day, like magic, all of these were given to him. However, the second man still had nothing..

Finally, the first man prayed for a ship, so that he and his wife could leave the island. In the morning, he found a ship docked at his side of the island.

The first man boarded the ship with his wife and decided to leave the second man on the island. He considered the other man unworthy to receive God’s blessings, since none of his prayers had been answered.

As the ship was about to leave, the first man heard a voice from heaven booming, “Why are you leaving your companion on the island?”

“My blessings are mine alone, since I was the one who prayed for them,”

The first man answered. “His prayers were all unanswered and so he does not deserve anything.”

“You are mistaken!” the voice rebuked him. “He had only one prayer, which I answered. If not for that, you would not have received any of my blessings.”

“Tell me,” the first man asked the voice, “what did he pray for that I should owe him anything?”

“He prayed that all your prayers be answered.”
For all we know, our blessings are not the fruits of our prayers alone, but those of another praying for us.

This is too good not to share…

“What you do for others is more important than what you do for yourself”




A friend 4 ever
Always take extra care of 3 things
in LIFE
a) TRUST
b) PROMISE &
c) RELATION.
Becoz they don’t make noise when they break.

A simple story

March 18, 2008 By: Category: Philosophy


At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning-disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: “When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?”

The audience was stilled by the query.

The father continued.

“I believe that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.”

Then he told the following story:

Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, “Do you think they”ll let me play?”  Shay”s father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.

Shay”s father approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, “We”re losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we”ll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.”

Shay struggled over to the team”s bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. His Father watched with a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father”s joy at his son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay”s team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay”s team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.

At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn”t even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.

However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay”s life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.

The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.

Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman”s head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, “Shay, run to first! Run to first!” Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.

Everyone yelled, “Run to second, run to second!” Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball … the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher”s intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman”s head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.

All were screaming, “Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay” Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, “Run to third! Shay, run to third!” As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, “Shay, run home! Run home!” Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team.

“That day”, said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, “the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world”.

Shay didn”t make it to another summer. He died that winter, having
never forgotten being the hero and making his father so happy, and
coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero  of the day! 


Ocean of Knowledge in a pot of water

February 19, 2008 By: Category: Philosophy

Hi

 

This is a wonderful article by Deepika Kodikal which appeared in a newspaper. Really liked it very much and thought worth sharing with you. Just go through and hope it enhances your knowledge.

A seeker went to a master one day and begged him to enlighten him. "I am obsessed with seeking out God. I can neither rest, work nor be at peace. Can you help me find God?" The master gazed far away with half-closed eyes for a while, and said slowly, "Go with a pot to the ocean in the mornings, gather some water in it and, sitting on the sands, meditate for some time before beginning your day's chores".


Thanking the master, the seeker immediately bought a pot and eagerly went to the ocean near his house. He filled the pot with seawater and sat down on the beach. On what should he meditate, he wondered. He had tried many supposedly potent verses and powerful mantras earlier, to no effect.

 

The master had, however, not given any special mantra. Just relax, he had said. Meditate and relax! The two seemed to him a little contradictory. Meditating, to him, meant concentration and action, and relaxing meant idling and letting go. He thought over this dichotomy for some time but suddenly remembered an important chore. He poured the water back on the sand as he had been told to do, and hurried home.

 

Contradiction notwithstanding, he somehow felt a little soothed and relaxed. He even felt a tad energised. So he went again the next morning, and every morning thereafter. Now this became his routine. Every day, he felt a little better and even learnt to relax fairly well. Repeatedly, the contradiction between relaxation and concentration presented itself to him and each time he slipped a little deeper in its grips. He was not aware that, unknown to him, the cogitation itself had become a mantra.Effortless, unwavering, natural, a relaxed concentration.

 

The seeker looked meditatively at the ocean that stretched far to the horizon, almost endless. Now it surrounded him too and encompassed him. He looked at the water in the pot. That water too came from the ocean, and although a minuscule part of it, it was the very same. One was vast and infinite, and the other, a tiny part of it. One was called the ocean, and the other, a pot of water. But the contents were the same. The difference was in the measure. The infinite sustained a multitude of life, even untold filth, all turbulence, and yet, a deep silence and calm beneath. The ocean itself was not affected by any of this. It remained pure and clear within itself, full of energy and dancing with joy.


Suddenly it hit him, This is God! Vast, endless, pure and knowledgeable, engulfing everything, including himself. Only, instead of water, now it was Consciousness. Immaculate and crystal clear, despite all the festering scum of anger, violence, hatred, prejudice generated by the murky mind.


The seeker poured the water back into the sea. It disappeared in the lapping waves and became one with the sea again. The seeker saw that he, too, was part of that vast ocean of Consciousness, had merged in it and become Consciousness itself, infinite, eternal, pure, sheer joy, and knowledge.


He was in every atom, every cell, in every individual. His persona was micro and macro, the Entirety. He was here and he was everywhere. He was the past, the present and the future. He was the elements of the universe. He was time and he was space. He was knowledge incarnate.

LUNCH WITH GOD

November 14, 2007 By: Category: Philosophy

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A little boy wanted to meet God.

He knew it was a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suitcase with Twinkies and a six-pack of root beer and he started his journey.

When he had gone about three blocks, he met an old woman. She was sitting in the park just staring at some pigeons.

The boy sat down next to her and opened his suitcase. He was about to take a drink from his root beer when he noticed that the old lady looked hungry, so he offered her a Twinkie.

She gratefully accepted it and smiled at him. Her smile was so pretty that the boy wanted to see it again, so he offered her a root beer. Again, she smiled at him. The boy was delighted!

They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling, but they never said a word. As it grew dark, the boy realized how tired he was and he got up to leave, but before he had gone more than a few steps, he turned around, ran back to the old woman, and gave her a hug.

She gave him her biggest smile ever.

When the boy opened the door to his own house a short time later, his mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face.

She asked him, “What did you do today that made you look so happy?” He replied, “I had lunch with God.” But before his mother could respond, he added, “You know what? She’s got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen!”

Meanwhile, the old woman, also radiant with joy, returned to her home. Her son was stunned by the look of peace on her face and asked, “Mother, what did you do today that made you so happy?” She replied, “I ate Twinkies in the park with God.” However, before her son responded, she added, “You know, he’s much younger than I expected.” Too often we underestimate the power of a touch,! ! a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.
 
Remember, we don’t know what God will look like. People come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Embrace all equally!

Accept Good and Bad with Gratitude

September 22, 2007 By: Category: Philosophy


My family home was directly across the street from the clinic entrance ofJohns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We lived downstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to outpatients at the clinic.

One summer evening as I was fixing supper, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see an awful looking man. I stared at the stooped, shrivelled body. His face, lopsided from swelling, was red and raw.

Yet his voice was pleasant as he said, "Good evening. I've come to see if you've a room for just one night. I came for a treatment this morning from the eastern shore, and there's no bus 'til morning". He told me he'd been hunting for a room since noon but with no success. "I guess it's my face… I know it looks terrible, but my doctor says with a few more treatments…" For a moment I hesitated, but his next words convinced me: "I could sleep in this rocking chair on the porch. My bus leaves early in the morning".

When I had finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with him a few minutes. It didn't take a long time to see that this old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. He told me he fished for a living to support his daughter, her five children, and her husband, who was hopelessly crippled from a back injury.

He wasn't complaining; in fact, every other sentence was prefaced with thanks to God for a blessing. He was grateful that no pain accompanied his disease which was, apparently, a form of skin cancer. He thanked God for giving him the strength to keep going.

At bedtime, we put a camp cot in the children's room for him. When I got up in the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded and the little man was out on the porch. He refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus, haltingly, as if asking a great favour, he said, "Could I please come back and stay the next time I have a treatment? Your
children made me feel at home. Grown-ups are bothered by my face, but children don't seem to mind".

I told him he was welcome to come again.

And on his next trip he arrived a little after seven in the morning. As a gift, he brought a big fish and a quart of the largest oysters I had ever seen! He said he had shucked them that morning before he left so that they'd be nice and fresh. I knew his bus left at 4 a.m. and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for us.

In the years he came to stay overnight with us, there was never a time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden. From him we learned what it was to accept the bad without complaint and the good with gratitude to God.

Recently, I was visiting a friend, who showed me her flowers. We came to the most
beautiful one of all, a golden chrysanthemum, bursting with blooms. But it was growing in an old dented, rusty bucket. "I ran short of pots", she explained, "and knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn't mind starting out in this old pail''

"Here's an especially beautiful one", God might have said when he came to the soul of the sweet old fisherman. "He won't mind starting in this small body".