The Monk Who Could Not Forgive Himself

A devoted monk came to his master with his head bowed low. He had served the monastery for 15 years, kind to everyone, generous to strangers, patient with the most difficult students. But something was deeply wrong.

Master, he said quietly, I do not know how to love myself. I give everything to others. I forgive everyone who wrongs me. I see the goodness in the most broken people, but when I look at myself, I see only my failures, my shortcomings, everything I should have done differently. I am kinder to strangers than I have ever been to myself. Is something wrong with me?

The master looked at him with great tenderness. Tell me, he said, if your dearest friend came to you in pain, ashamed of a mistake they had made, what would you say to them? The monk answered immediately. I would tell them they are human, that mistakes are how we grow, that one failure does not define them, and that I see their goodness even when they cannot. The master nodded slowly. And why have you never once said those words to yourself? The monk had no answer. He sat in silence, tears falling quietly, because he realized he had spent 15 years as a fierce protector of everyone else's worth and a ruthless critic of his own. He had built a life of love on a foundation of self-rejection, and somewhere deep inside he had believed that was what devotion looked like, that suffering himself somehow served others. But it didn't. It had just made him quietly, invisibly exhausted. The master took his hands. The Buddha taught loving-kindness, and he was very specific about where it must begin. Not with your family, not with strangers, not even with your enemies. It begins with yourself, because you cannot truly love another while you are at war with the person you are loving. Self-love is not vanity. It is not selfishness. It is the foundation upon which everything else is built. Talk to yourself the way you would talk to someone you love, because somewhere, someone does, and they are watching you destroy yourself and wondering why you will fight for everyone except the person who needs it most. You start there. Start now. You have always deserved the love you so freely give away.

The Inner Voice

A young woman came to a Zen master, completely lost. She had a decision to make, a life-changing one. She had consulted everyone she trusted, her family, her friends, her teachers, her mentors. Everyone had an opinion, everyone had advice, and the more advice she received, the more confused she became. "Master," she said, "I don't know what to do. I have listened to everyone, and now I cannot hear anything. There are too many voices. How do I find the right answer?" The master looked at her carefully and said, "How many of those voices came from inside you?" She stopped, thought, and said, "None." She admitted quietly, "I never thought to listen."

The master nodded slowly. "That is exactly the problem." He took her outside into the monastery garden. "Sit here," he said. "Don’t think about your decision. Don’t analyze it. Do not weigh the options. Just sit. And when a voice speaks that is not made of fear, not made of other people's expectations, not made of what you think you should want, listen to that one. That is the only voice that has ever known the answer." She sat for a long time. The voices of her family faded. The advice of her mentors faded. The noise of her own anxiety faded, and in the space that remained, something spoke, not loudly, not dramatically, just a quiet, unmistakable knowing, like a compass needle finally finding north. She didn't understand it. She couldn't explain it, but she knew with every part of herself that it was true. The ancient teachers called it many things: inner wisdom, the still small voice, true self, but they all pointed at the same thing: a frequency of knowing that lives beneath the noise of your thoughts, beneath the opinions of others, beneath the fear, beneath the doubt. The universe is not silent. It has been speaking to you your entire life, through the pull you feel toward certain people, through the discomfort that visits you in rooms where you don't belong, through the quiet excitement that rises in you when you think about what you actually want before the world tells you to want something else. That feeling is not random. It is not weakness. It is not wishful thinking. It is the universe speaking through the only instrument it has ever trusted with your life. You stop asking everyone else what you should do. Go quiet. Go still. And listen to the voice that was there before all the other voices arrived. It has never once led you wrong. You just stopped listening

The Two Gardens

Two young monks were given identical plots of land on the same day, with the same soil, sunlight, water, and seeds. Everything was equal.

The first monk planted carefully. He knelt in the dirt every morning, chose each seed with intention, tended the soil with patience, pulled the weeds before they spread, and watered deeply, even on the days he didn't feel like it.

The second monk was impatient. He scattered his seeds carelessly. Some days he watered; some days he forgot. When weeds appeared, he ignored them, telling himself he would deal with them later. He spent most of his time looking at his neighbor's garden, wondering why nothing was growing in his garden. 6 months passed. The first monk's garden was extraordinary, abundant, and overflowing. The second monk's garden was a tangle of weeds with a few struggling flowers, barely surviving. The second monk went to his master, furious. "It isn't fair," he said. "We started with the same things, the same soil, the same seeds. Why does his garden flourish while mine suffers?"

The master walked him back to his own garden, knelt down, and pulled a single weed from the soil. He held it up. "Tell me when you planted this." The monk frowned. "I didn't plant it. It just appeared." The master shook his head gently. "Nothing just appears. Every weed was once a seed. Every seed was once a choice. You did not plant these weeds deliberately, but you chose, every single day, not to remove them. And neglect is also a choice. Your garden is the sum of every choice you made when you thought nobody was watching.

This is what karma actually means, not punishment, not cosmic revenge, not fate deciding to reward the good and punish the wicked. Karma is simply the garden. Every thought you think is a seed. Every word you speak is a seed. Every action you take, or choose not to take, is a seed, planted in the soil of your life. And the harvest is never immediate. That is why so many people miss the connection. They cannot see the seeds they planted years ago in the fruit growing today. They cannot trace the weeds back to the moments of neglect that allowed them to take root. You are standing in your garden right now. Look around. What is growing? What has been neglected? What weeds have you been telling yourself you will deal with later? And what seeds are you planting today, in the quiet moments when nobody is watching? Because the ancient teachers knew someone is always watching, not a god keeping score, not the universe waiting to punish, but you, the future version of you, who will one day stand in the garden you are planting right now. Choose your seeds wisely, tend your soil with love, and trust that what you plant in the dark will always find the light.

Why Do I Never Feel Satisfied

A young man once asked an old monk, “Why do I never feel satisfied, no matter what I achieve. I always seem to want something more.” The monk smiled and said, "The man who walks dreams of a bicycle. The man with a bicycle dreams of a car. The man with a car dreams of a mansion, and the man with a mansion dreams of a life without stress."

The monk continued, "Have you noticed the mind always says the same thing, just one more thing, then I'll be happy?" The monk picked up a small stone from the ground. "Most people think their suffering comes from not having enough, but often the suffering comes from carrying this stone."

"What stone?" the young man asked.

The monk replied, "The stone of endless wanting." The monk then pointed to a lotus growing from the mud. "That flower grows from mud, yet it does not complain about the mud. It simply blooms." Then the monk looked at the young man and said, "Peace does not come from getting everything you want. Peace comes when you stop arguing with what you already have." The young man's eyes softened. "So, what should I do?"

The monk smiled gently. "Guard your mind. Watch every thought that says, 'I need more,' 'I will be happy later,' 'I am not enough.' Those thoughts are stones on your path. Remove them one by one." "The life you are wishing for tomorrow is a life someone else is praying for today. Be grateful. Be present, and remember, your worst enemy cannot harm you as much as your own unguarded mind, but a peaceful mind can turn every obstacle into a step toward Enlightenment."

Tiger in the Mind

Trembling with fear, a young monk came to his master and said, "Master, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, and I can’t practice. Every time I close my eyes, I see a tiger, prowling, waiting, and ready to destroy me. It’s enormous, and it is real, and I am terrified."

The master looked at him carefully and asked, "Tell me, has the tiger attacked you?"

"No," said the monk.  "Has it entered the monastery?"  "No." "Has it come anywhere near you?"  The monk hesitated. "No, but it could at any moment. It could!"

The master nodded slowly. "Come with me.”  He led the young monk outside into the open courtyard where the sun was warm, where birds moved through the trees, and the air was still and clear.

"Do you see the tiger?" the master asked. The monk looked around. "No."

"Do you hear it?"   "No."    "Do you feel it?"   "No, but—"    "But what?" said the master gently.

The monk fell quiet, then whispered, "But in my mind, it is so real. It feels so certain, like it is already happening."

The master placed a hand on his shoulder. "That," he said, "is the most dangerous tiger of all. Not the one in the forest, but the one you have created inside your own mind. You have fed it your energy every day, giving it a name, giving it a face, and practicing its attack a thousand times in a place it has never actually been. The forest tiger can only harm your body, but this tiger has been stealing your entire life."

The young monk stood in the warm sunlight—breathing, listening to the birds, and feeling the ground beneath his feet. And for one moment, just one, the tiger vanished. It was not because it was defeated, but because he had stopped feeding it his attention.

MORAL:  What tiger are you feeding right now? The conversation that hasn't happened yet? The disaster that hasn't arrived? The rejection you haven't received? The failure you haven't experienced?  Fear is not always a warning system. Sometimes fear is just a story—a very convincing story that your mind has been rehearsing on repeat. And every time you engage with it, every time you follow it deeper, you make it more real, more certain, and more inevitable.  The ancient teachers knew you cannot fight the tiger in your mind with more thinking. You can only step out of the story. Come back to this moment, this breath, and this ground beneath your feet. The tiger only lives in the future, and you are here right now. And right now, you are safe.

The Story of the Boulder

The Story of the Boulder  

Over 2,000 years ago, in a monastery high in the mountains of India, there lived a young monk named Ananda. He was brilliant and devoted, but Amanda had a problem. Every single morning, he walked the same mountain path to meditate at sunrise, and every single morning, a massive boulder blocked his way. He tried to push it, but he couldn't. He tried to go around it, but it was too dangerous, so he went to his master. He asked the master, “The boulder blocks my path. What should I do?” The master looked at him for a long moment, then said just four words: go back, sit down. Ananda didn't understand, but he obeyed. he walked back, sat down directly in front of the boulder, not behind it, not beside it, in front of it, and he meditated right there with this obstacle. Weeks passed, and something strange began to happen. He noticed the morning light turning the rock gold, and small flowers began growing in its shadow because the boulder blocked the wind and a family of birds nested in its crevice. Suddenly, he realized he had already arrived. He just hadn't known it. One morning, his master came and sat beside him. What did the boulder teach you? Ananda answered slowly. I was treating my obstacle like an interruption, like something that didn't belong, like a mistake that needed correcting before my real life could begin, but the boulder was never in the way of my path, the boulder WAS my path.

Moral: Take a moment. What is the boulder in your life right now, the thing you're waiting to get past before your real life begins? The ancient teachers didn't say remove every obstacle and then live fully. They said the obstacle is the path. Your life is not on hold; it is happening right now, right here in front of the boulder. Sit down, be still, and let it teach you what nothing else can.

The Scholar

A celebrated scholar traveled across the country to study under a famous Zen master. He arrived at the monastery and was immediately shown into the master's chamber. He sat down, confident and composed, and began to speak. He talked about his years of study, his published works, his theories on enlightenment, and his understanding of the ancient texts. He spoke for a long time. The master simply listened, then quietly rose and began to prepare tea. He placed a cup in front of the scholar and began to pour. The tea reached the brim and kept going, spilling over the cup and onto the table. The scholar jumped back. "Master, stop! The cup is overflowing!" 

The master set down the pot and looked at him calmly. "You are like this cup," he said. "You arrive already full, full of what you know, full of who you think you are, full of the version of yourself you have worked so hard to build. I cannot teach a full cup. Before you can receive wisdom, you must first be willing to become empty." The scholar was silent for the first time, and in that silence something cracked open because he realized every question he had asked the master was not really a question at all. It was a performance, a way of showing what he already knew. His ego had dressed itself up as curiosity and called it learning. This is what ego does. It doesn't announce itself loudly. It whispers, "I already know this. I've heard this before. This doesn't apply to me." And just like that, the cup stays full, and nothing can enter. 

The ancient teacher said, "The beginner's mind sees many possibilities. The expert's mind sees few." It doesn't matter how much you know. The moment you stop being empty, you stop being teachable, and the moment you stop being teachable, you stop growing. Empty the cup every single day. Start again. 

Patience & Growth

A young student came to his master, desperate.

"I have been practicing for two years," he said, "meditating, studying, and working harder than anyone, but nothing has changed. I see no progress. I am ready to give up."

The master took him outside to a small garden. He pointed to the ground. "Three years ago, I planted a bamboo seed right there. For an entire year, nothing. I watered it every single day—nothing. The second year, I watered it again every single day, and still nothing. Not a single shoot, not a single sign of life. Third year, the same. Fourth year, the same. People walked past and laughed at me. 'Old man, nothing is growing there. Give up.' But I watered it anyway.

And then, in the fifth year, in a single season, the bamboo grew 90 feet tall."

The student stared at the ground. "90 feet in one season?"

The master nodded slowly. "Tell me, did it grow 90 feet in one season, or did it grow 90 feet in five years? For four years, that bamboo was building something nobody could see: roots so deep, so wide, and so unshakable that when it finally moved, nothing could stop it.

Your growth is the same. The days that feel empty, the years that feel wasted, the progress nobody can see—including you—it is not nothing. It is roots. The ancient teachers knew that the most powerful forces in nature are the ones that take their time. Do not mistake silence for failure. Do not mistake patience for weakness. Everything that will last is still growing underground. Keep watering."

The Burning Forest

In ancient Japan, a great forest caught fire. It burned for 3 days and three nights. The monks from a nearby monastery stood at the edge and watched everything they had known turn to ash. Trees they had meditated under for decades, paths they had walked every morning, flowers that had greeted every sunrise, all of it gone. The youngest monk fell to his knees, weeping. "Everything is destroyed," he said. "Everything is lost. How does the universe allow this? How can something so beautiful simply disappear?" The oldest monk stood beside him, watching the last flames die, completely still, completely calm. The young monk looked up at him. "How are you not devastated? How can you just stand there? Doesn't this break your heart?"

The old monk was quiet for a long time, then said softly, "Come back with me in 1 year." 1 year later, they walked back to the forest together, and what they found shocked the young monk. Where ash had covered the ground, wildflowers grew in colors he had never seen before. Where old trees had fallen. Young saplings reached toward the sky. The forest had not died. It had transformed and, in its transformation, had become more alive than ever before. The old monk knelt down and touched the new soil. "Fire is not the enemy of the forest," he said. "It is the forest's teacher. It clears what has grown rigid, what has stopped growing, what has forgotten how to grow. The seeds that were waiting, buried beneath years of shade, could only sprout after the burning. What looked like destruction was always preparation.

Moral: What has burned down in your life? The relationship that ended, the career that collapsed, the version of yourself you worked so hard to build that one day simply fell apart. It felt like destruction; it felt like loss; it felt like the universe had taken everything. But beneath the ash, even now, seeds are stirring, seeds that could never have reached the light while the old forest still stood. The ancient teachers knew that nothing in this universe truly ends. It only changes form. The fire was not your punishment. It was your preparation. And what is growing now in the ashes of what you lost will one day be so beautiful that you will understand why it had to burn.

Rich Man and the Beggar

A monk once told his students that A rich man and a beggar both went to sleep unhappy. Why? Asked a young student. The monk smiled and replied, "The rich man spent the night worrying about what he might lose. The beggar spent the night worrying about what he did not have." The student looked confused and said. "But one had everything, and the other had nothing." The monk nodded. "Yes, and yet neither had peace."

My friend, many people believe happiness lives in possessions. They say, "When I earn more, I'll be happy. When I buy the house, I'll be happy. When I achieve success, I'll be happy." But happiness is a strange thing. If happiness depends on what and how much you own, you will always need more. The rich man feared losing his. The beggar feared never gaining it. Both were prisoners of the same mind, one trapped by abundance, the other by lack of it.

The monk then asked,

"If I gave you a golden cup filled with poison, would you drink it?" "Of course not," replied the students. The monk asked. "Do people spend their lives drinking fear, comparison, and dissatisfaction, and expect to taste happiness?"

Peace does not come from what is in your hand. Peace comes from what is in your heart.

For a grateful rich man may sleep peacefully, and a grateful beggar may sleep peacefully, but a restless mind will never be satisfied, no matter how much it owns. Tonight, before you sleep, ask yourself, am I chasing happiness or am I practicing it?

Worst Problem

High up in the Himalayan mountains, there lived a famous sage.  People from far away would walk up the difficult path in order to meet him.  One day, a group of travelers went up the mountain to find this sage and seek out his wisdom. Upon reaching his home, they all greeted the sage.  Each of them wanted to talk to him about their own problems in search of a solution. They started fighting among themselves over who would go first. The fighting among them grew loud and turned into chaos, with each of them insisting their problem was bigger and that they needed to talk to the sage first. The sage watched the commotion for a while and, seeing them come to no decision, finally shouted, “SILENCE!”

Everyone stopped yelling and became silent.  The sage told them, “Sit on the ground in a circle and wait for a bit.  I have a solution for you.”

After a few minutes, the sage came back with a pen and sheets of paper.  He passed the paper and the pen to each one of them and placed a bowl in the middle.  He instructed them to write down a problem that troubled them the most, fold the paper, and put it in the bowl.

Everyone started writing, and when they finished, the sage took the bowl and mixed up all the papers. Then he calmly handed the bowl to someone in the circle and instructed them to pass it around, pick up the top paper, and read the problem on it.  Then you choose, make it your own, or take back your own problem

One by one, each person picked out a paper and read another person’s problems.  When they read each paper, they became horrified.  Each of them concluded that even their worst problem was not as bad as the other person’s.  Within minutes, each person had exchanged their problems. And when they had their original paper in hand with the problem they had written, they felt grateful that it wasn’t as horrible as the others.  They all thanked the sage and went on their way.

The Story of Two Shoe Salesmen

Two shoe salesmen were sent to Africa with the same mission: to assess whether it would be a good market for selling shoes. The first salesman arrives, observes the locals, and immediately concludes the market is bad. His reasoning? “Nobody’s wearing shoes,” he reports back to the corporate office.

The second salesman, on the other hand, arrives with a different outlook. He looks around, sees the same barefoot locals, and calls the corporate office enthusiastically. “I’m staying here. “Send boxes and boxes of shoes. The market is wide open. Nobody is wearing shoes.”

MORAL: This simple story illustrates how one sees things. The first salesman only saw the lack of shoes and declared the market unfavorable. The second salesman saw the same lack of shoes but recognized the untapped potential, leading him to envision a thriving shoe market.

In our everyday lives, we encounter situations and challenges that may appear insurmountable at first glance. We often think and say, “I can’t do that” or “I can’t change,” which creates limitations that prevent us from exploring the full range of possibilities. Just as the second salesman saw potential where the first saw obstacles, we too can change our mindset by viewing challenges from different angles and uncovering possibilities that are right in front of us.

The Parable of the Two Arrows

The Buddha asked his students a question: "If a person is struck by an arrow, do they feel pain?" The students nodded. "Of course."

Then he asked, "If that same person is struck by a second arrow, do they feel more pain?" Again, they answered, "Yes, obviously."

Then the Buddha said something that nobody forgot: "The first arrow is life. The second arrow is you."

The first arrow is what happens to you—the diagnosis, the betrayal, the loss, the failure. You did not choose it; it found you. That pain is real. That pain is valid. Nobody is telling you to pretend it doesn't hurt.

But then, almost instantly, we fire a second arrow at ourselves: “Why did this happen to me? I should have seen it coming. I’ll never recover from this. This always happens to me. I don’t deserve to be happy.”

And now, you are bleeding from two wounds: one that life gave you, and one that you gave yourself.

The Buddha was not teaching you to feel nothing; he was teaching you to feel everything without adding to it. You may not be able to avoid the first arrow, but the second arrow is one you are choosing every time you replay the moment, every time you build a case against yourself, and every time you decide that the pain has a deeper meaning, again and again and again.

Pain is inevitable. It visits every single human life without exception. But suffering—the story you wrap around the pain, the identity you build from the wound—that is not inevitable. That is a choice.

So, when life sends the first arrow—and it will—just ask yourself one question: "Am I about to reach for the second one?"

Teacher's Mistake

One day in math class, the teacher wrote on the board, the multiplication table by the number 9. 9x1=9 9x2=18 and so on. But the last entry she wrote 9x10-89. After writing this, she faced the children and noticed they were all laughing. She asked them the reason why they were laughing at her. First, the students hesitated, but then one of them stood up and, still giggling, said, “Teacher, you wrote the last line of the table wrong. 9 x 10 is not 89. 9 x 10 is 90.” Another student said, "You are supposed to be smarter than us."

Listening to this, the teacher smiled and said, “I have written the last line incorrectly for a reason because I wanted to teach you something very important. You can see that I have written this table correctly 9 times, but no one appreciated that. Every one of you noticed the mistake I made and laughed at me for it. Our math lesson is a life lesson. This is how the world is. People don’t appreciate all the things you do right and all the good you do, but as soon as you make one mistake, they may criticize you or get angry at you. No one is perfect and we all make mistakes. Always do good deeds and help others, even if no one notices. A small good deed done by you will be a big help for a person in need.

Theory of Expectation

An Inspector of Schools in Germany wanted to experiment with the “Theory of Expectation”.

He went to a school and gave the students an instant examination and graded them from 0-100, Their grades were kept secret from the students. Out of all students, three students got only 30% correct, whereas all other students got more than 50% correct. The Inspector of Schools called these below-average students on the stage, gave them awards, and told them that they had obtained a 70%, which was the highest in the class. The Inspector also told these students that he would have them take their test again after three months, and this time, he expects them to obtain 90% marks.

Contrary to the opinion of their class teacher, those below-average students were able to obtain a 90% in their next examination.

Moral: Psychologists say, and this story proves the Theory of Expectation: “that when we expect a miraculous achievement and give anybody a challenge and encourage him or her, they are most likely come up to that expectation”. The moment we accept a challenge and set higher goals for us, our energy level increases, mood is elevated and it becomes possible for us to achieve the higher goal.

“Goal and Will Power, when properly combined, make an irresistible pair”.

The Gift of Insults

In ancient Japan, there lived a samurai who was feared by everyone in his province. He never lost a battle and never backed down from a fight. His reputation was his identity, and his sword his power. One day, a young challenger arrived in his village. He was loud, aggressive, hungry for a fight. He stood in the center of the village and screamed the Samurai's name. Insulting him, mocking his family, spitting on his reputation. The crowd gathered, waiting, certain the samurai would draw his sword. But the samurai looked at the young man calmly and said nothing. He then turned around and walked away.

The crowd was stunned. His students ran after him. Master, he insulted you, dishonored your family. Why didn't you fight? Everyone is watching. What will they think?

The samurai stopped walking, turned to face his students, and replied; if someone offers you a gift and you refuse to accept it, tell me who does the gift belong to? His students thought for a moment …” to the person who offered it,” they said. The samurai nodded slowly and said, “ his anger, his insults, his need to destroy, I did not accept them, so they remain entirely his. The crowd thought the samurai had shown weakness, but his students understood. It takes no strength to react. True strength is the ability to pause between what happens to you and what you choose to do next. True strength is knowing that not every battle deserves your sword, not every incident deserves your energy, not every person who tries to pull you into darkness deserves to take your light.

Moral: The ancient warriors knew the hardest fight is never with the enemy in front of you, it is with the reaction rising inside. You win that fight first, and you will never lose.

Luck vs Hard Work

Sam lived in a small town in the country. Every week, he would come to the farmer's market and buy vegetables from the same man, and they became good friends. One day, Sam asked the vegetable vendor, do you think success comes from hard work or luck?"

After listening to the question, the vegetable vendor smiled a little and asked, "Do you have a safety deposit box at the bank? You know, the place where you keep your valuable things?" Sam replied, “Yes, I know what that is. What does that have to do with anything?"

The vendor said let me explain. You have a safety deposit box, and unlock it with your key. But there is another key that stays with the bank manager. Both keys are needed to unlock the box, right?

Sam replied, "Yes, that's right."

Well, the key you hold represents hard work, and the key the bank manager holds represents luck. Both must be present to be successful in life. We must always work hard so that the key that the universe holds might open the door to success.

Moral: We see in life how people have great ideas and great talent, but they don't work hard. Hard work puts you where luck can find you.

A Lesson In Hastening Judgment

A Father and his Daughter were playing in the park.  His young daughter spotted an apple vendor.  She asked her father to buy her an apple.  Father didn’t bring much money with him, but it was enough to purchase two apples.  So, he bought two apples and gave them to his daughter.

She held one apple in each hand.  Then the father asked her if she could share one apple with him.  Upon hearing this, his daughter quickly took a bite from one apple.  And before her father could speak, she also took a bite from the second apple.

Father was surprised.  He wondered what mistake he had made in raising his daughter that she acted in such a greedy way.  Perhaps his daughter is too young to understand sharing and giving.  A smile had disappeared from his face.

Suddenly, his daughter, with an apple in her hand, said, “Father, have this one, this one is much juicier and sweeter.”  Her father was speechless.  He felt bad about judging his daughter so quickly.  But his smile came back, now knowing why his daughter quickly took a bite from each apple..

Sometimes Just Let It Be

Once Buddha was walking from one town to another with a few of his followers. While they were traveling, they happened to pass a lake. They stopped there, and Buddha told one of his disciples, “I am thirsty. Please get me some water from that lake over there”.

The disciple walked up to the lake. When he reached it, he noticed that some people were washing clothes in the water, and, right at that moment, an ox cart started crossing the lake right at the edge of it. As a result, the water became very muddy. The disciple thought, “How can I give this muddy water to Buddha to drink?!” So he came back and told the Buddha, “The water in there is very muddy. I don’t think it is fit to drink”.

So, the Buddha said, let us take a little rest here under this tree. After about half an hour, again Buddha asked the same disciple to go back to the lake and get him some water to drink. The disciple obediently went back to the lake. This time, he found that the water in the lake was absolutely clear. The mud had settled down to the bottom and the water above it looked fit to drink. So he collected some water in a pot and brought it to the Buddha.

The Buddha looked at the water, and then he looked up at the disciple and said, “See, You let the water be and the mud settled down on its own, then you got clear water and it didn’t require any effort”.

Moral: Your mind is also like that. When it is disturbed, just let it be. Give it a little time. It will settle down on its own. You don’t have to put forth any effort to calm it down. We can make the best decisions when we stay calm.

Cleanliness Starts at Home

After getting married, a couple moved to an apartment together. From their living room, they had a clear view of the neighbor’s wash-line. Every day, the wife would complain about how dirty the neighbors’ clothes were even after washing. The husband always listened but ignored these complaints until one day he had enough of his wife’s complaining.

The next day, the wife saw that the clothes were clean. Astonished, she asked her husband what he thought they did to make the clothes clean. In turn, her husband told her that he cleaned their living room windows so now she can see how clean the washed clothes actually are and were.

Moral: Sometimes it’s OUR vision that is clouded, not allowing us to see things as they truly are.