THOUGHTS FOR PEACE OF MIND
by HH Shri Bhola Nathji (1902-1992) a great spiritual luminary of his time.
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Forget that which is past. Do not think of that which has not come. Enjoy what is before you, and think that it is the best you could wish for.
A dew-drop sits on the petal of a flower. The rays of the sun play upon it, making it sparkle like a diamond.
The flower is filled with greed and tries to gather all the other dew-drops in the garden, but soon realizes its folly. The attempt in itself endangers the position of the first dew-drop, and even if it were to succeed, the gathering of dew-drops on the flower would make it bend and thus fall into the dust.
The door is shut.
A beggar arrives at the door of the Lord. He knows not when the door will be opened, but he knows that it is the door of the Lord – the mighty giver of alms, the One who gave the sun its radiance, the mountains their height, the nightingale its voice, the stars their sparkle. He, too, has come to the door of that same Lord. But alas!
The door is shut.
The beggar, bowl in one hand, knocked with the other. Whilst he did so, he wept. His tears rolled into the bowl and behold! They were converted to pearls.
Then there rang a voice that said:
“O, Beggar! ‘Tis the same to me whether you are within or without this door. It is enough for me that you reached the door! No one who ever reached my door is sent back empty. Were I not to give you anything I would never have shown you the door!”
by HH Shri Bhola Nathji (1902-1992) a great spiritual luminary of his time.
================================================
Forget that which is past. Do not think of that which has not come. Enjoy what is before you, and think that it is the best you could wish for.
A dew-drop sits on the petal of a flower. The rays of the sun play upon it, making it sparkle like a diamond.
The flower is filled with greed and tries to gather all the other dew-drops in the garden, but soon realizes its folly. The attempt in itself endangers the position of the first dew-drop, and even if it were to succeed, the gathering of dew-drops on the flower would make it bend and thus fall into the dust.
The door is shut.
A beggar arrives at the door of the Lord. He knows not when the door will be opened, but he knows that it is the door of the Lord – the mighty giver of alms, the One who gave the sun its radiance, the mountains their height, the nightingale its voice, the stars their sparkle. He, too, has come to the door of that same Lord. But alas!
The door is shut.
The beggar, bowl in one hand, knocked with the other. Whilst he did so, he wept. His tears rolled into the bowl and behold! They were converted to pearls.
Then there rang a voice that said:
“O, Beggar! ‘Tis the same to me whether you are within or without this door. It is enough for me that you reached the door! No one who ever reached my door is sent back empty. Were I not to give you anything I would never have shown you the door!”
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