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Inspirational
Stories
The
Real Meaning Of Peace
"There
once was a king who offered a prize to the artist
who would paint the best picture of peace. Many artists
tried. The king looked at all the pictures. But there
were only two he really liked, and he had to choose
between them.
One picture was of a calm lake. The lake was a
perfect mirror for peaceful towering mountains all around
it. Overhead was a blue sky with fluffy white clouds.
All who saw this picture thought that it was a perfect
picture of peace.
The other
picture had mountains, too. But these were rugged
and bare. Above was an angry sky, from which rain fell and
in which lightning played. Down the side of the mountain tumbled
a foaming waterfall. This did not look peaceful at all.
But when
the king looked closely, he saw behind the waterfall a tiny
bush growing in a crack in the rock. In the bush a mother
bird had built her nest. There, in the midst of the rush of
angry water, sat the mother bird on her nest - in perfect
peace.
Which
picture do you think won the prize? The king chose the second
picture. Do you know why?
"Because,"
explained the king, "peace does not mean to be in a place
where there is no noise, trouble, or hard work. Peace means
to be in the midst of all those things and still be calm in
your heart. That is the real meaning of peace."
-Author
Unknown
Thinking...
It started out innocently enough. I began to think at parties
now and then to loosen up. Inevitably though, one thought
led to another, and soon I was more than just a social thinker.
I began
to think alone - "to relax," I told myself - but
I knew it wasn't true. Thinking became more and more important
to me, and finally I was thinking all the time.
I began
to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment don't
mix, but I couldn't stop myself.
I began
to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Thoreau and
Kafka.
I would
return to the office dizzied and confused, asking, "What
is it exactly we are doing here?"
Things
weren't going so great at home either. One evening I had turned
off the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life. She
spent that night at her mother's.
I soon
had a reputation as a heavy thinker. One day the boss called
me in. He said, "Skippy, I like you, and it hurts me
to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem.
If you don't stop thinking on the job, you'll have to find
another job." This gave me a lot to think about.
I came
home early after my conversation with the boss. "Honey,"
I confessed, "I've been thinking..."
"I
know you've been thinking," she said, "and I want
a divorce!"
"But
Honey, surely it's not that serious."
"It
is serious," she said, lower lip aquiver. "You think
as much as college professors, and college professors don't
make any money, so if you keep on thinking we won't have any
money!"
"That's
a faulty syllogism," I said impatiently, and she began
to cry. I'd had enough. "I'm going to the library,"
I snarled as I stomped out the door.
I headed
for the library, in the mood for some Nietzsche, with NPR
on the radio. I roared into the parking lot and ran up to
the big glass doors... they didn't open. The library was closed.
To this
day, I believe that a Higher Power was looking out for me
that night.
As I sank
to the ground clawing at the unfeeling glass, whimpering for
Zarathustra, a poster caught my eye. "Friend, is heavy
thinking ruining your life?" it asked. You probably recognize
that line. It comes from the standard Thinker's Anonymous
poster.
Which
is why I am what I am today: a recovering thinker. I never
miss a TA meeting. At each meeting we watch a non-educational
video; last week it was "Porky's." Then we share
experiences about how we avoided thinking since the last meeting.
I still
have my job, and things are a lot better at home. Life just
seemed... easier, somehow, as soon as I stopped thinking.
-Unknown |
Cosmos
of Happiness
