Once Buddha was walking from one town to another town with a few of his
followers. This was in the initial days. While they were travelling,
they happened to pass a lake. They stopped there and Buddha told one of
his disciples, “I am thirsty. Do get me some water from that lake
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,
a bullock cart started crossing through the lake. As a result, the
water became very muddy, very turbid. The disciple thought, “How can I
give this muddy water to Buddha to drink!” So he came back and told
Buddha, “The water in there is very muddy. I don’t think it is fit to
drink.”
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 lake had
absolutely clear water in it. The mud had settled down and the water
above it looked fit to be had. So he collected some water in a pot and
brought it to Buddha.
Buddha looked at the water, and then he looked up at the disciple and
said, “See what you did to make the water clean. You let it be ... and
the mud settled down on its own – and you got clear water... 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 in
any effort to calm it down. It will happen. It is effortless.”
What did Buddha emphasize here? He said, “It is effortless.” Having
'peace of mind' is not a strenuous job; it is an effortless process.
When there is peace inside you, that peace permeates to the outside. It
spreads around you and in the environment, such that people around start
feeling that peace and grace.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
A story for Passover
A good Passover story should always involve cakes. Austrian baker
Manfred Klaschka is the subject of this year’s story. He was in the news
because of his most recent catalogue of cake designs; Klaschka is a
pastry specialist.
Of course, Austrian pastries are famous the world over. Now, pastry baker Manfred Klaschka’s most recent catalogue of such tasty delights was in the news this week because it included cakes decorated with swastikas – as well as one with a baby raising its right arm in a Nazi salute.
Herr Klaschka insists he is not a Nazi. After the news story broke, he even met with a Holocaust awareness group, and apologized for what he had done, and he then baked a cake to say he was sorry – a cake with Jewish and Christian symbols. The point of the story – the bit I found interesting – is Herr Klaschka’s explanation for what he did.
"I see it was a mistake, anyone who knows me knows what kind of person I am. I am no Nazi", said Klaschka, who had earlier said he was just a pastry maker fulfilling his customers’ wishes. Fulfilling his customers’ wishes? There is a market in Austria in 2011 for cakes with babies raising their arms in Nazi salutes, cakes with swastikas on them? There are parties where people serve such cakes? Maybe birthday parties for babies?
Of course there are such people, and there are such parties, and because of that, there is a market – there is consumer demand – for swastika cakes. Which is why Herr Klaschka was happy to bake them. And not only in Austria.
You may remember the case of the Campbell family from New Jersey.
When Kurt Waldheim was exposed as a war criminal his popularity rose. The neo-Nazi Freedom Party headed by the late Jorg Haider, won 27% of the vote in the 2000 elections and became part of the coalition government – the first time since 1945 that Nazis had sat in a European government.
But this never happened in New Jersey – which is why I want to talk about the Campbell family. The Campbell family in New Jersey made the news back in 2008 when they tried to get a birthday cake made for their son — they have a son and two daughters — at the local Shop Rite in Holland Township.The store refused their request.
And the reason was that Mr. Campbell wanted the cake to read "Happy birthday Adolf Hitler". Because, you see, his son’s name was Adolf Hitler Campell. One of the daughters is named is named JoyceLynn Aryan Nation Campbell. Well, you get the point.
When I read about the Austrian baker Manfred Klaschka, I thought – here was a marketing opportunity for him. He would have happily baked a cake for the Campbell family. So what does all this have to do with Passover?
This week, when we are forbidden to eat Sachertore or Linzer tort or even the delightfully named Punschkrapfen, we might want to pause and think about something we say every year at the Passover seder: 'In every generation it is the duty of man to consider himself as if he had come forth from Egypt'.
Because in this generation, as in all others, there are those who order custom-made swastika cakes. There are those who name their children after Adolf Hitler. And there are others who fire anti-tank missiles at school busses with Jewish children in them. Because there are those who are building nuclear weapons, having told the world that their intention is to wipe the Jewish state off the face of the earth. Because people like that make Pharaoh look like a nice guy. Because getting out of the house of bondage, out of slavery in Egypt, was not the end of the story for the Jewish people, but was the beginning.
It is a story of a never-ending struggle for freedom, for dignity, for respect, for human rights, that has universal resonance and meaning — for all people, everywhere, always.
Source: Eric Lee
Of course, Austrian pastries are famous the world over. Now, pastry baker Manfred Klaschka’s most recent catalogue of such tasty delights was in the news this week because it included cakes decorated with swastikas – as well as one with a baby raising its right arm in a Nazi salute.
Herr Klaschka insists he is not a Nazi. After the news story broke, he even met with a Holocaust awareness group, and apologized for what he had done, and he then baked a cake to say he was sorry – a cake with Jewish and Christian symbols. The point of the story – the bit I found interesting – is Herr Klaschka’s explanation for what he did.
"I see it was a mistake, anyone who knows me knows what kind of person I am. I am no Nazi", said Klaschka, who had earlier said he was just a pastry maker fulfilling his customers’ wishes. Fulfilling his customers’ wishes? There is a market in Austria in 2011 for cakes with babies raising their arms in Nazi salutes, cakes with swastikas on them? There are parties where people serve such cakes? Maybe birthday parties for babies?
Of course there are such people, and there are such parties, and because of that, there is a market – there is consumer demand – for swastika cakes. Which is why Herr Klaschka was happy to bake them. And not only in Austria.
You may remember the case of the Campbell family from New Jersey.
When Kurt Waldheim was exposed as a war criminal his popularity rose. The neo-Nazi Freedom Party headed by the late Jorg Haider, won 27% of the vote in the 2000 elections and became part of the coalition government – the first time since 1945 that Nazis had sat in a European government.
But this never happened in New Jersey – which is why I want to talk about the Campbell family. The Campbell family in New Jersey made the news back in 2008 when they tried to get a birthday cake made for their son — they have a son and two daughters — at the local Shop Rite in Holland Township.The store refused their request.
And the reason was that Mr. Campbell wanted the cake to read "Happy birthday Adolf Hitler". Because, you see, his son’s name was Adolf Hitler Campell. One of the daughters is named is named JoyceLynn Aryan Nation Campbell. Well, you get the point.
When I read about the Austrian baker Manfred Klaschka, I thought – here was a marketing opportunity for him. He would have happily baked a cake for the Campbell family. So what does all this have to do with Passover?
This week, when we are forbidden to eat Sachertore or Linzer tort or even the delightfully named Punschkrapfen, we might want to pause and think about something we say every year at the Passover seder: 'In every generation it is the duty of man to consider himself as if he had come forth from Egypt'.
Because in this generation, as in all others, there are those who order custom-made swastika cakes. There are those who name their children after Adolf Hitler. And there are others who fire anti-tank missiles at school busses with Jewish children in them. Because there are those who are building nuclear weapons, having told the world that their intention is to wipe the Jewish state off the face of the earth. Because people like that make Pharaoh look like a nice guy. Because getting out of the house of bondage, out of slavery in Egypt, was not the end of the story for the Jewish people, but was the beginning.
It is a story of a never-ending struggle for freedom, for dignity, for respect, for human rights, that has universal resonance and meaning — for all people, everywhere, always.
Source: Eric Lee
Two frogs in the milk
This is the story of two frogs. One frog was fat and the other skinny. One day, while searching for food, they inadvertently jumped into a vat of milk. They couldn't get out, as the sides were too slippery, so they were just swimming around.
The fat frog said to the skinny frog, "Brother frog, there's no use paddling any longer. We're just going to drown, so we might as well give up." The skinny frog replied, "Hold on brother, keep paddling. Somebody will get us out." And they continued paddling for hours.
After a while, the fat frog said, "Brother frog, there's no use. I'm becoming very tired now. I'm just going to stop paddling and drown. It's Sunday and nobody's working. We're doomed. There's no possible way out of here." But the skinny frog said, "Keep trying. Keep paddling. Something will happen, keep paddling." Another couple of hours passed.
The fat frog said, "I can't go on any longer. There's no sense in doing it because we're going to drown anyway. What's the use?" And the fat frog stopped. He gave up. And he drowned in the milk. But the skinny frog kept on paddling.
Ten minutes later, the skinny frog felt something solid beneath his feet. He had churned the milk into butter and he hopped out of the vat.
The fat frog said to the skinny frog, "Brother frog, there's no use paddling any longer. We're just going to drown, so we might as well give up." The skinny frog replied, "Hold on brother, keep paddling. Somebody will get us out." And they continued paddling for hours.
After a while, the fat frog said, "Brother frog, there's no use. I'm becoming very tired now. I'm just going to stop paddling and drown. It's Sunday and nobody's working. We're doomed. There's no possible way out of here." But the skinny frog said, "Keep trying. Keep paddling. Something will happen, keep paddling." Another couple of hours passed.
The fat frog said, "I can't go on any longer. There's no sense in doing it because we're going to drown anyway. What's the use?" And the fat frog stopped. He gave up. And he drowned in the milk. But the skinny frog kept on paddling.
Ten minutes later, the skinny frog felt something solid beneath his feet. He had churned the milk into butter and he hopped out of the vat.
Every bucket counts
Once day, having learned that the King of Fez was hunting lions in the neighbourhood, they decided to invite him and his court, and killed a number of sheep in his honour. The sovereign had dinner and went to bed. Wishing to show their generosity, they placed a huge goatskin bottle before his door and agreed to fill it up with milk for the royal breakfast.
The villagers all had to milk their goats and then each of them had to tip his bucket into the container. Given its great size, each of them said to himself that he might just as well dilute his milk with a good quantity of water without anyone noticing.
To the extent that, in the morning, such a thin liquid was poured out for the king and his court that it had no taste than the taste of meanness and greed.
Source: "Leo The African" by Amin Maalouf
The villagers all had to milk their goats and then each of them had to tip his bucket into the container. Given its great size, each of them said to himself that he might just as well dilute his milk with a good quantity of water without anyone noticing.
To the extent that, in the morning, such a thin liquid was poured out for the king and his court that it had no taste than the taste of meanness and greed.
Source: "Leo The African" by Amin Maalouf
A turn of the screw
There was an industrialist whose production line inexplicably breaks
down, costing him millions per day. He finally tracks down an expert who
takes out a screwdriver, turns one screw, and then - as the factory
cranks back to life - presents a bill for £10,000.
Affronted, the factory owner demands an itemised version. The expert is happy to oblige: "For turning a screw: £1. For knowing which screw to turn: £9,999."
Author: Oliver Burkeman in "The Guardian Weekend", 13 August 2011
Affronted, the factory owner demands an itemised version. The expert is happy to oblige: "For turning a screw: £1. For knowing which screw to turn: £9,999."
Author: Oliver Burkeman in "The Guardian Weekend", 13 August 2011
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)