Where real worth lies

Once a learned Bishop was traveling by ship from Archangel to the great monastery at Solovetsk. As the ship neared a remote island, the captain told the bishop that three old hermits had spent their entire lives there in deep prayer. The bishop was intrigued, and insisted on visiting. So the captain dropped anchor and the bishop went to the island in a small dinghy.

The three hermits were ancient, with white beards down to their knees, and they were dressed in rags. They greeted the bishop, bowing to the ground. He blessed them, and then asked them how they served God on their tiny bit of island. They replied that they had no idea how to serve God. They just served one another.

Well then, the bishop asked, how do you pray? They replied that they simply lifted their arms heavenward and chanted: “Three are ye, three are we, have mercy upon us.” The bishop was alarmed at all this, and he spent the rest of the day teaching the three aged hermits the Lord’s Prayer and the rudiments of theology. But they were slow learners, and the bishop had to keep repeating his lessons.

As the sun was setting, the bishop bade the hermits farewell and returned to the ship. But as it sailed away from the island, he saw something….. The three hermits were running after the ship, on water, as if they were on dry land. When they caught up with the ship, they bowed down and humbly begged the bishop to remind them of how the Lord’s Prayer went, because they’d already forgotten it. The bishop crossed himself and, in tears, told the hermits to continue with their old way of praying because they had no need of his poor instruction. Then he bowed deeply before them, and asked for their blessing. After giving it, the hermits ran back across the sea to their island, and a light shone until daybreak on the spot where they were lost to sight.

from, Tolstoy, Три Старца, (Three Hermits), An Old Legend current in the Volga district, 1886

As you do

The self is relatedness. Only when the self mirrors itself in so many mirrors does it really exist. . . You can never come to your self by building a meditation hut on top of Mount Everest; you will only be visited by your own ghosts and that is not individuation. . . . 

The self only exists inasmuch as you appear. 

Not that you are, but that you do the self. 

The self appears in your deeds and deeds always mean relationship.

Jung, Seminar on Nietzsche’s Zarathustra,

Support

A stormy morning here with high winds predicted for the day. Turbulent news reports also these days, full of dire predictions and evidence that we live in an age of division and suspicion.

Out

Of a great need

We are all holding hands and climbing.

Not loving is a letting go.

Listen, the terrain around here

Is

Far too

Dangerous

For

That.

Hafiz, from The Gift: Poems by Hafiz by Daniel Ladinsky. 

Your first thought

 

Imagine whenever you meet anybody, your habitual, instinctive first thought is, I wish for this person to be happy.

Having such habits changes everything at work, because this sincere goodwill is picked up unconsciously by others, and you create the type of trust that leads to highly productive collaborations. Such habits can be volitionally trained.

 C-M Tan, Search inside yourself. The unexpected path to achieving success, happiness (and world peace). 

Sunday Quote: What keeps us going

“Grace is everywhere” were the final words of the priest in Bernanos’ book Journal d’un Curé de Campagne. Some weekends we see it easily in nature. Other times in the presence of a friend:

It is light that matters,
The light of understanding.
Who has ever reached it
Who has not met the furies again and again?
Who has reached it without
Those sudden acts of grace?

May Sarton, The Angels and the Furies

Not giving up on our dreams

We should never give up on our dreams or let them be blocked by the limitations of our own or others fears; but rather believe in that voice within and trust our capacity to achieve it.

Since the powers of nature in this dreamer, in that dreamer, and in the macrocosm of nature itself, are the same, only differently inflected,

the powers personified in a dream are those that move the world.

All the gods are within you

Joseph Campbell, The Masks of God

per Laura V, ritrovata dopo molti anni ma mai veramente andata dal cuore