A man went to see his psychiatrist and said that every night he was visited by a ten-foot monster with two heads. And he was suffering tremendously, sleep was not possible, he was becoming more and more miserable and any day he could collapse. He had even thought about committing suicide. 'Well, I think I might be able to cure you,' said the psychiatrist, ‘but I am afraid it will be a lengthy process and it will cost you about three hundred dollars.' 'Three hundred dollars?' said the man. ‘Forget it! I will just go home and make friends with it.'
That's how to be intelligent is so difficult and it costs so much. You have to put at stake whatsoever you have. It is a cross. In fact, you have to die to be intelligent because only when you are reborn will you be intelligent, not before it. And the cross has to be carried on one's own shoulders; nobody else can carry your cross. You will have to carry your cross to your own Golgotha, there is no other way. Many times you will stumble on the road; many times you will be so tired and exhausted that you will have to rest. Many times you will think that people who have never desired intelligence, awareness, are blessed. ‘What have I chosen?' Many times doubt and suspicion will arise in your mind: 'Is there any goal or am I simply carrying a cross and wasting my life?' Many times you would like to go back to the world, many will be the temptations. But if you can stick to it, if you can remain on the path against all odds, one day intelligence flowers. It is almost like a seed: the seed cannot know what is going to happen, the seed has never known the flower. And the seed cannot even believe that he has the potentiality to become a beautiful flower. Long is the journey, and it is always safer not to go on that journey because unknown is the path, nothing is guaranteed. Nothing can be guaranteed. Thousand and one are the hazards of the journey, many are the pitfalls -- and the seed is secure, hidden inside a hard core. But the seed tries, it makes an effort, it drops the hard shell which is its security, it starts moving. Immediately the fight starts: the struggle with the soil, with the stones, with the rocks. And the seed was very hard and the sprout will be very, very soft and dangers will be many. There was no danger for the seed, the seed could have survived for millennia, but for the sprout many are the dangers. But the sprout starts: towards the unknown, towards the sun, towards the source of light, not knowing where, not knowing why. Great is the cross to be carried but a dream possesses the seed and the seed moves. One day.... And there is much competition: other trees are there, other plants are there, and he has to cross all of them because only then will the sun and the sky be available. And then, no one knows. But one day it flowers, it happens.
That's how to be intelligent is so difficult and it costs so much. You have to put at stake whatsoever you have. It is a cross. In fact, you have to die to be intelligent because only when you are reborn will you be intelligent, not before it. And the cross has to be carried on one's own shoulders; nobody else can carry your cross. You will have to carry your cross to your own Golgotha, there is no other way. Many times you will stumble on the road; many times you will be so tired and exhausted that you will have to rest. Many times you will think that people who have never desired intelligence, awareness, are blessed. ‘What have I chosen?' Many times doubt and suspicion will arise in your mind: 'Is there any goal or am I simply carrying a cross and wasting my life?' Many times you would like to go back to the world, many will be the temptations. But if you can stick to it, if you can remain on the path against all odds, one day intelligence flowers. It is almost like a seed: the seed cannot know what is going to happen, the seed has never known the flower. And the seed cannot even believe that he has the potentiality to become a beautiful flower. Long is the journey, and it is always safer not to go on that journey because unknown is the path, nothing is guaranteed. Nothing can be guaranteed. Thousand and one are the hazards of the journey, many are the pitfalls -- and the seed is secure, hidden inside a hard core. But the seed tries, it makes an effort, it drops the hard shell which is its security, it starts moving. Immediately the fight starts: the struggle with the soil, with the stones, with the rocks. And the seed was very hard and the sprout will be very, very soft and dangers will be many. There was no danger for the seed, the seed could have survived for millennia, but for the sprout many are the dangers. But the sprout starts: towards the unknown, towards the sun, towards the source of light, not knowing where, not knowing why. Great is the cross to be carried but a dream possesses the seed and the seed moves. One day.... And there is much competition: other trees are there, other plants are there, and he has to cross all of them because only then will the sun and the sky be available. And then, no one knows. But one day it flowers, it happens.
hans-wolfgang - am Donnerstag, 7. Dezember 2006, 23:59
sirenalee (Gast) meinte am 2. Feb, 10:50:
Your post has so deep sense! As the saying is: no sweet without some sweat.
hans-wolfgang antwortete am 2. Feb, 15:36:
for sirenalee
What is found through long search and striving has significance for Mahavira. This is the reason he and his whole tradition are known by that strange name shraman, which simply means one who toils. Mahavira believes the price of freedom is hard work, and what is had effortlessly is sheer thievery. According to him, if God is found without effort, it cannot he the real God; there must he some deception about it. And Mahavira's sense of self-respect will not allow him to accept anything that comes as a gift, he will earn it with the sweat of his brow. That is why a term like God's grace has no place in Mahavira's philosophy. On the other hand, it is replete with words like efforts, struggle, hard work, discipline, and sadhana. This is as it should he. His whole tradition is based on hard work.
