Ïàóëî Êîýëüî. Ìàêòóá (engl)

     © Paulo Coelho. Maktub.
     WWW: http://www.paulocoelho.com.br ¡ 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
troåð6tÃÄTI
have been thinking about how to make this news less difficult to hear -- how
to paint  it in brighter  colors, add to 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
relatives, and made generous donations to charities. But I suddenly realized
that I wasn't included in the will; everything went to others. So, I decided
to treat myself with greater generosity."
     While  the master was traveling to spread the word of God, the house in
which  he lived  with his disciples burned down. "He entrusted the  house to
us,  and  we  didn't  take proper  care,"  said one  of  the disciples. They
immediately began to rebuild on what remained after the fire, but the master
returned earlier than  expected, and saw what they  were doing.  "So, things
are  looking up:  a  new  house," he  said happily. One  of  the  disciples,
embarrassed, told him what  had actually happened; that where they  had  all
lived together  had  been consumed by  fire. "I don't understand," said  the
master.  "What I am  seeing is men  who have faith in  life, beginning a new
chapter. Those who have lost everything they owned are in a  better position
than many others, because, from that moment on, things can only improve."
     The master says: "If  you  are traveling the road  of  your  dreams, be
committed to it. Do not leave an open door to be used as  an excuse such as,
'Well, this isn't exactly what I wanted.' Therein are contained the seeds of
defeat.  "Walk your  path.  Even if your steps have to be uncertain, even if
you know that you could be doing it better. If you accept your possibilities
in the present, there is  no doubt that you will improve  in the future. But
if you  deny that  you have limitations,  you will  never  be  rid  of them.
"Confront your path with courage, and  don't be  afraid of the criticism  of
others.  And,  above  all,  don't  allow  yourself  to  become  paralyzed by
self-criticism. "God will be with you on your sleepless nights, and will dry
your tears with His love. God is for the valiant."
     The  master and his disciples  were traveling,  and, on  the road, were
unable to eat properly. The  master  asked some of them to go and seek food.
The disciples returned at the end of  the day. Each  brought  with  him  the
little he  had been able  to  gain through the charity of others: fruit that
was already going bad, stale bread and bitter  wine. One  of  the disciples,
however, brought with him a bag of ripe apples. "I would do anything to help
my master and  my brothers," he said, sharing  the  apples with the  others.
"Where  did you  get these?"  asked the  master. "I had to  steal them," the
disciple  answered. "People were giving  me  only spoiled food,  even though
they  knew that we  were preaching  the word  of God."  "Get away  with your
apples, and never come back," said the master. "Anyone who would rob for me,
would rob from me."
     We go out into the world in search of our dreams and  ideals.  Often we
make inaccessible that which is within our reach. When we realize the error,
we feel we have wasted our time,  seeking in the  distance what was close at
hand.  We  blame ourselves for making such a mistake, for our useless search
and for the problems we have caused. The master says: "Although the treasure
may be buried in your house, you will find it only if you leave in search of
it.  If Peter had  not experienced  the pain of rejection, he would not have
been chosen as the head of the Church. If the prodigal son had not abandoned
everything,  he would not  have been given a feast by his father.  There are
certain  things  in  our lives  that  carry  a  seal  that  says: 'You  will
appreciate my value only after you have lost me...and recovered me.' It does
no good to try to shorten the path."
     The  master  was meeting with his favorite disciple, and asked  him how
his spiritual progress was going. The disciple answered that he was now able
to dedicate every moment of his day to God. "So, then, all that's left is to
forgive your  enemies," said  the master. The disciple looked at his master,
startled: "But that's not necessary. I bear no ill will toward  my enemies."
"Do you think that God bears you any ill will?" asked the master. "Of course
not," the disciple answered. "Yet you ask for his forgiveness, don't you? Do
the same with your enemies,  even though you bear them no ill will. A person
who forgives is washing and perfuming his own heart."
     The young  Napoleon was trembling like a reed in  the  wind  during the
ferocious bombardments  at Toulon. A soldier, seeing  him  that way, said to
his fellow soldiers,  "Look  at  him,  he's scared to  death." "Yes, I  am,"
replied Napoleon. "But I go on fighting. If you felt half  the fear  I feel,
you would have fled a long time ago." The master says:  "Fear  is not a sign
of cowardice.  It is fear that allows us be brave  and dignified in the face
of life's  situations. Someone who experiences fear --  and despite the fear
goes  on, without  allowing  it to  intimidate  him  --  is giving proof  of
valiance.  But someone who tackles  difficult situations without  taking the
danger into account, is proving only his irresponsibility."
     The  wanderer  is at  the feast of Saint John,  with its tents, archery
contests and  country food.  Suddenly, a clown begins to mimic his gestures.
People laugh, and  the wanderer laughs, as  well,  and invites  the clown to
have coffee with him. "Commit to life!" says the clown. "If  you are  alive,
you have  to shake  your arms, jump  around, make noise, laugh and  talk  to
people. Because life is exactly  the opposite of death. To die is  to remain
forever in the same position. If you are too quiet, you are not living."
     A disciple and his  master were walking in the  fields one morning. The
disciple was asking  what diet was needed to  provide purification. Although
his master  had  always insisted that all foods were  holy, the disciple did
not  believe it. "There must be some meal that brings us closer to God," the
disciple said. "Well,  perhaps you  are right. Those  mushrooms  there,  for
example,"  said the  master.  The disciple  was  excited,  thinking that the
mushrooms would provide him with purification and ecstasy. But as he stooped
to pick one he screamed: "These are poisonous!  If I were to eat even one of
them, I would die instantly!" he  said,  horrified. "Well, I don't  know any
other food that would bring you so quickly to God," said the master.
     In the  winter of 1981, the wanderer  is  walking with his wife through
the  streets  of  Prague,  when  he  sees  a  boy  doing  drawings  of  some
neighborhood  buildings. He likes what he sees, and decides to buy one. When
he holds out  the money,  he  notices that  the boy has no gloves  -and  the
temperature is in the 20s. "Why don't  you wear gloves?" he asks. "So that I
can  hold my pencil." They talk  a  bit about Prague. The boy offers to do a
drawing of the wanderer's wife's face, free of charge. As he waits  for  the
drawing to be completed, the wanderer realizes  that  something strange  had
happened: he had conversed for almost five minutes with the boy, and neither
spoke  the other's language.  They had used only gestures, smiles and facial
expressions  -- but the will to share  something  had allowed them to  enter
into the world of language without words.
     A friend took Hassan  to  the  door of a mosque, where a blind man  was
begging. "This  blind man is the  wisest person in our  country,"  said  the
friend. "How long have you been blind," Hassan asked the man. "Since birth,"
the man answered. "And how did you become so wise?" "Since  I  didn't accept
my blindness,  I tried  to become  an astronomer,"  the man  answered. "But,
since I couldn't see the heavens, I was forced to imagine the stars, the sun
and the galaxies. And, the closer I came to God's work, the closer I came to
His wisdom."
     In  a bar in a remote  village in  Spain,  close to the city  of Olite,
there is a  sign placed there by the owner. "Just as I succeeded  in finding
all the answers, all the questions changed." The master says: "We are always
concerned with finding  answers.  We  feel  that  answers  are  important to
understand what life means. "It  is more important to live fully, and  allow
time to reveal  to us the secrets of our existence. If we  are too concerned
with  making sense of life, we  prevent  nature  from  acting, and we become
unable to read God's signs."
     There is an  Australian legend about a  shaman who was walking with his
three sisters when they met the most famous warrior of the time. "I  want to
marry  one  of these  beautiful girls," the warrior  said. "If one  of  them
marries, the other two  will  suffer", said  the shaman. "I am looking for a
tribe that allow its men to have three  wives." For  years, they walked  the
entire Australian continent without finding  such  a tribe. "At least one of
us could  have been happy," said one  of the sisters when they were old, and
sick of walking.  "I  was wrong," said the shaman. "But  now it's too late."
And he turned the three sisters into blocks of stone, so that all who passed
by would understand that one person's happiness does not mean others must be
sad.
     The journalist, Walter Carelli, went to interview the Argentine writer,
Jorge Luis Borges. When his interview had been completed, they began to talk
about  the language that exists beyond  words,  and  about the human being's
great capacity to understand others.  "I  will  give  you  an example," said
Borges. And he  began to speak in a strange  language.  Then he  stopped and
asked the journalist what he had been  saying. Before Carelli could respond,
the photographer who was with  him said: "It's the 'Our Father.'" "Exactly,"
said Borges. "I was reciting it in Finnish."
     An animal  trainer with the  circus is able  to  dominate elephants  by
using a very simple trick: when  the animal is still a child,  he lashes one
of his legs  to the trunk  of  a tree. No matter how  hard he struggles, the
young elephant is unable  to free himself. Little by little, he becomes used
to the idea that the  trunk of the tree is more powerful than he is. When he
becomes  an  adult possessing  tremendous strength,  one has only  to  tie a
string  about  the  elephant's  leg,  and tie  him to a sapling. He will not
attempt to  free himself. As with  elephants,  our feet are  often bound  by
fragile  ties.  But since, as children, we became accustomed to the strength
of the  tree  trunk, we do  not dare  to  struggle. Without realizing that a
simple courageous act is all that is needed to find our freedom.
     The master says: "It avails you nothing to seek explanations about God.
You can listen to beautiful words, but they are basically em