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Vivekananda

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friend if you have any inspiring story that has touched some ones life or yours life please share with us

we dont need any quote from any religious texts. please
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Vivekananda

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Joined: 11/01/2007 23:17:55
Messages: 110
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The Tao Of Forgiveness




One day, the sage gave the disciple an empty sack and a basket of potatoes. "Think of all the people who have done or said something against you in the recent past, especially those you cannot forgive.

For each of them, inscribe the name on a potato and put it in the sack."

The disciple came up quite a few names, and soon his sack was heavy with potatoes.

"Carry the sack with you wherever you go for a week," said the sage. "We'll talk after that."

At first, the disciple thought nothing of it. Carrying the sack was not particularly difficult. But after a while, it became more of a burden. It sometimes got in the way, and it seemed to require more effort to carry as time went on, even though its weight remained the same.
After a few days, the sack began to smell. The carved potatoes gave off a ripe odor. Not only were they increasingly inconvenient to carry around, they were also becoming rather unpleasant.

Finally, the week was over. The sage summoned the disciple. "Any thoughts about all this?"

"Yes, Master," the disciple replied. "When we are unable to forgive others, we carry negative feelings with us everywhere, much like these potatoes. That negativity becomes a burden to us and, after a while, it festers."

"Yes, that is exactly what happens when one holds a grudge. So, how can we lighten the load?"

"We must strive to forgive."

"Forgiving someone is the equivalent of removing the corresponding potato from the sack. How many of your transgressors are you able to forgive?"

"I've thought about it quite a bit, Master," the disciple said. "It required much effort, but I have decided to forgive all of them."

"Very well, we can remove all the potatoes. Were there any more people who transgressed against you this last week?"

The disciple thought for a while and admitted there were. Then he felt panic when he realized his empty sack was about to get filled up again.

"Master," he asked, "if we continue like this, wouldn't there always be potatoes in the sack week after week?"

"Yes, as long as people speak or act against you in some way, you will always have potatoes."

"But Master, we can never control what others do. So what good is the Tao in this case?"

"We're not at the realm of the Tao yet. Everything we have talked about so far is the conventional approach to forgiveness.. It is the same thing that many philosophies and most religions preach - we must constantly strive to forgive, for it is an important virtue. This is not the Tao because there is no striving in the Tao."

"Then what is the Tao, Master?"

"You can figure it out. If the potatoes are negative feelings, then what is the sack?"

"The sack is... that which allows me to hold on to the negativity. It is something within us that makes us dwell on feeling offended.... Ah, it is my inflated sense of self-importance. "

"And what will happen if you let go of it?"

"Then... the things that people do or say against me no longer seem like such a major issue."

"In that case, you won't have any names to inscribe on potatoes. That means no more weight to carry around, and no more bad smells.

The Tao of forgiveness is the conscious decision to not just to remove some potatoes... but to relinquish the entire sack."
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hotson_123

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Story of a Fish and Fisherman

Many people have been on this planet and many arrogant have gone under this earth. Those Kings, Pharaohs, Nimruds and many more... arrogantly claimed to be the God but they have died! Not just this, they could not even know when they would die! All of us might know our date-of-birth or place-of-birth, but who knows one's date-of-death or place-of-death! However, as long as we don't know when we will die, doors of repentance are open for us, by the Will of our Creator God the Almighty


A little fish considers her ocean to be the only universe, after all, how big is an ocean for a little fish! Once a big fish advised the little fish about fishermen outside the water but she could not be convinced to believe that there could be anything 'beyond' this under-water- world. The big fish gave descriptions of the fishermen and their tools (ship, baits, net, sinker.. etc) and warned her to stay away from those things.
One day, the little fish came across something strange and suddenly remembered what the elder fish had said about fishermen & their tools. The little fish moved ahead saying "There is no such thing as fishermen" and started to eat the bait until the hook got stuck into her mouth. Sadly, she was dragged out of the water and this was it! She could now see the world-beyond- water and became certain about what the elder fish had said before but unfortunately, she had no chance to return back.

Some of us we might consider that this world is the only world. Some fish cannot perceive life outside of water, however, there are also some fish who can see things outside the water, it might also happen that a small fish comes out of water for a short time then goes back without being hurt (thus witnessing things outside the water). There are Angels as well as Jinns outside our sights, we don't see them. Devils can be imagined as the fishermen with baits trying to lure us. We have been warned to stay away from evil, even if we like it's bait.

Imagine that the Angel of death suddenly appears before us and demands our Soul/Spirit (it can happen any instant anyway), if we don't happily surrender ourselves, that Angel could painfully snatch our Soul from us. Then we will realize and become certain about that unseen world, quite like that fish in the above example. Our death is certain, but are we prepared to stand in front of our Lord?
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Vivekananda

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Whom to blame


Boy was born to a couple after eleven years of marriage.




They were a Loving couple and the boy was the gem of their eyes.




When the boy was Around two years old, one morning the husband saw a medicine bottle Open.


He was late for office so he asked his wife to cap the bottle and keep It in the cupboard. His wife, preoccupied in the kitchen totally forgot The matter.


The boy saw the bottle and playfully went to the bottle fascinated by Its colour and drank it all.




It happened to be a poisonous medicine Meant for adults in small dosages. When the child collapsed the mother Hurried him to the hospital, where he died. The mother was stunned. She Was terrified how to face her husband.


When the distraught father came to the hospital and saw the dead child ,




He looked at his wife and uttered just five words.




QUESTIONS:




1. What were the five words?




2. What is the implication of this story?









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ANSWER :







The husband just said "I am with you Darling"





The husband's totally unexpected reaction is a proactive Behaviour.




The Child is dead. He can never be brought back to life.




There is no point In finding fault with the mother. Besides, if only he had taken time to Keep the bottle away, this would not have happened.


No one is to be blamed. She had also lost her only child. What she Needed at that moment was consolation and sympathy from the husband. That is what he gave her.




If everyone can look at life with this kind of perspective, there would Be much fewer problems in the world. "A journey of a thousand miles Begins with a single step." Take off all your envies, jealousies, Unforgiveness, selfishness, and fears. And you will find things are Actually not as difficult as you think.




MORAL OF THE STORY


Sometimes we spend time in asking who is responsible or whom to blame, Whether in a relationship, in a job or with the people we know. By this Way we miss out some warmth in human relationship.


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Vivekananda

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Three Bullets

There once was a man who had nothing for his family to eat.

He had an old rifle and three bullets. So, he decided that
he would go out hunting and kill some wild game for dinner.

As he went down the road, he saw a rabbit. He shot at the
rabbit and missed it. The rabbit ran away.

Then he saw a squirrel and fired a shot at the squirrel
and missed it.

The squirrel disappeared into a hole in a cottonwood tree

As he went further, he saw a large wild "Tom" turkey in the
tree, but he had only one bullet remaining.

A voice spoke to him and said, "Pray first, aim high and
stay focused.

However, at the same time, he saw a deer which was a better kill.

He brought the gun down and aimed at the deer But, then
he saw a rattlesnake between his legs about to bite him, so he
naturally brought the gun down further to shoot the rattlesnake.

Still, the voice said again to him, "I said 'Pray, Aim high and Stay focused.

So, the man decided to listen to God's voice. He prayed , then aimed the
gun high up in the tree and shot the wild turkey.

The bullet bounced off the turkey and killed the deer.

The handle fell off the gun and hit the snake in the head and killed it.

And, when the gun had gone off, it knocked him into a pond.

When he stood up to look around, he had fish in all his
pockets, a dead deer and a turkey to eat for his family.

The snake (Satan) was dead simply because the man listened to God.

Moral of the story:

Pray first before you do anything, aim and shoot high in
your goals, and stay focused on God.

Never let others discourage you concerning your past. The
past is exactly that, "the past

Live every day one day at a time and remember that only God knows
our future and that he will not put you through any more than you
can bear.

Do not look to man for your blessings, but look to the doors
that only He has prepared in advance for you in your favor.

Wait, be still and patient: keep God first and everything else will follow.
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Vivekananda

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Joined: 11/01/2007 23:17:55
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The Corn Story
There was a farmer who grew superior quality and award-winning CORN. Each
year he entered his CORN in the state fair where it won honour and prizes.

Once a newspaper reporter interviewed him and learnt something interesting
about how he grew it. The reporter discovered that the farmer shared his
seed corn with his neighbours'.
"How can you afford to share your best seed corn with your neighbours when
they are entering corn in competition with yours each year?" the reporter
asked.

"Why sir, "said the farmer, "didn't you know? The wind picks up pollen from
the ripening corn and swirls it from field to field. If my neighbours grow
inferior, sub-standard and poor quality corn, cross-pollination will
steadily degrade the quality of my corn. If I am to grow good corn, I must
help my neighbours grow good corn."

The farmer gave a superb insight into the connectedness of life. His corn
cannot improve unless his neighbour's corn also improves. So it is in the
other dimensions! Those who choose to be at harmony must help their
neighbours and colleagues to be at peace. Those who choose to live well must
help others to live well.

Success does not happen in isolation. It is very often a participative and
collective process.
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Vivekananda

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Joined: 11/01/2007 23:17:55
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Happiness is an attitude

The 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud lady, who is fully dressed each morning by eight o'clock, with her hair fashionably coifed and makeup perfectly applied, even though she is legally blind, moved to a nursing home today.
Her husband of 70 years recently passed away, making the move necessary.
After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, she smiled sweetly when told her room was ready. As she maneuvered her walker to the elevator, I provided a visual description of her tiny room, including the eyelet sheets that had been hung on her window.
"I love it," she stated with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old having just been presented with a new puppy.
"Mrs. Jones, you haven't seen the room .... just wait."
"That doesn't have anything to do with it," she replied.
"Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn't depend on how the furniture is arranged ... it's how I arrange my mind.
I already decided to love it ...

It's a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice; I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do. Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes open I'll focus on the new day and all the happy memories I've stored away ... just for this time in my life."
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Vivekananda

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An Interesting Conversation from A True LifeStory

A real story ... A gossip between a Solider and Software Engineer in Shatabdi Train ......... An interesting and a must read !!

Vivek Pradhan was not a happy man. Even the plush comfort of the air-conditioned compartment of the Shatabdi express could not cool his frayed nerves. He was the Project Manager and still not entitled to air travel. It was not the prestige he sought, he had tried to reason with the admin person, it was the savings in time. As PM, he had so many things to do!!

He opened his case and took out the laptop, determined to put the time to some good use.

'Are you from the software industry sir,' the man beside him was staring appreciatively at the laptop. Vivek glanced briefly and mumbled in affirmation, handling the laptop now with exaggerated care and importance as if it were an expensive car.

'You people have brought so much advancement to the country, Sir. Today everything is getting computerized.'

'Thanks,' smiled Vivek, turning around to give the man a look. He always found it difficult to resist appreciation. The man was young and stockily built like a sportsman. He looked simple and strangely out of place in that little lap of luxury like a small town boy in a prep school. He probably was a railway sportsman making the most of his free traveling pass.

'You people always amaze me,' the man continued, 'You sit in an office and write something on a computer and it does so many big things outside.'

Vivek smiled deprecatingly. Naiveness demanded reasoning not anger. 'It is not as simple as that my friend. It is not just a question of writing a few lines. There is a lot of process that goes behind it.'

For a moment, he was tempted to explain the entire Software Development Lifecycle but restrained himself to a single statement. 'It is complex, very complex.'

'It has to be. No wonder you people are so highly paid,' came the reply.

This was not turning out as Vivek had thought. A hint of belligerence crept into his so far affable, persuasive tone. '

Everyone just sees the money. No one sees the amount of hard work we have to put in. Indians have such a narrow concept of hard work. Just because we sit in an air-conditioned office, does not mean our brows do not sweat. You exercise the muscle; we exercise the mind and believe me that is no less taxing.'

He could see, he had the man where he wanted, and it was time to drive home the point.

'Let me give you an example. Take this train. The entire railway reservation system is computerized. You can book a train ticket between any two stations from any of the hundreds of computerized booking centres across the country.

Thousands of transactions accessing a single database, at a time concurrently; data integrity, locking, data security. Do you understand the complexity in designing and coding such a system?'

The man was awestuck; quite like a child at a planetarium. This was something big and beyond his imagination.

'You design and code such things.'

'I used to,' Vivek paused for effect, 'but now I am the Project Manager.'

'Oh!' sighed the man, as if the storm had passed over,

'So your life is easy now.'

This was like the last straw for Vivek. He retorted, 'Oh come on, does life ever get easy as you go up the ladder. Responsibility only brings more work.

Design and coding! That is the easier part. Now I do not do it, but I am responsible for it and believe me, that is far more stressful. My job is to get the work done in time and with the highest quality.

To tell you about the pressures, there is the customer at one end, always changing his requirements, the user at the other, wanting something else, and your boss, always expecting you to have finished it yesterday.'

Vivek paused in his diatribe, his belligerence fading with self-realisation. What he had said, was not merely the outburst of a wronged man, it was the truth. And one need not get angry while defending the truth.

'My friend,' he concluded triumphantly, 'you don't know what it is to be in the Line of Fire'.

The man sat back in his chair, his eyes closed as if in realization. When he spoke after sometime, it was with a calm certainty that surprised Vivek.

'I know sir,..... I know what it is to be in the Line of Fire......'

He was staring blankly, as if no passenger, no train existed, just a vast expanse of time.

'There were 30 of us when we were ordered to capture Point 4875 in the cover of the night.

The enemy was firing from the top.

There was no knowing where the next bullet was going to come from and for whom.

In the morning when we finally hoisted the tricolour at the top, only 4 of us were alive.'

'You are a...?'

'I am Subedar Sushant from the 13 J&K Rifles on duty at Peak 4875 in Kargil. They tell me I have completed my term and can opt for a soft assignment.

But, tell me sir, can one give up duty just because it makes life easier.

On the dawn of that capture, one of my colleagues lay injured in the snow, open to enemy fire while we were hiding behind a bunker.

It was my job to go and fetch that soldier to safety. But my captain sahib refused me permission and went ahead himself.

He said that the first pledge he had taken as a Gentleman Cadet was to put the safety and welfare of the nation foremost followed by the safety and welfare of the men he commanded... ....his own personal safety came last, always and every time.'

'He was killed as he shielded and brought that injured soldier into the bunker. Every morning thereafter, as we stood guard, I could see him taking all those bullets, which were actually meant for me . I know sir....I know, what it is to be in the Line of Fire.'

Vivek looked at him in disbelief not sure of how to respond. Abruptly, he switched off the laptop.

It seemed trivial, even insulting to edit a Word document in the presence of a man for whom valour and duty was a daily part of life; valour and sense of duty which he had so far attributed only to epical heroes.

The train slowed down as it pulled into the station, and Subedar Sushant picked up his bags to alight.

'It was nice meeting you sir.'

Vivek fumbled with the handshake.

This hand... had climbed mountains, pressed the trigger, and hoisted the tricolour. Suddenly, as if by impulse, he stood up at attention and his right hand went up in an impromptu salute.

It was the least he felt he could do for the country.


PS: The incident he narrated during the capture of Peak 4875 is a true-life incident during the Kargil war. Capt. Batra sacrificed his life while trying to save one of the men he commanded, as victory was within sight. For this and various other acts of bravery, he was awarded the Param Vir Chakra, the nation's highest military award!

Live Humbly, there are great people around us, let us learn!

BE POLITE… EVERYONE U MEET IS FIGHTING A HARD BATTLE!!
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Vivekananda

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The House of 1000 Mirrors
Long ago in a small, far away village, there was place known as the House of 1000 Mirrors. A small, happy little dog learned of this place and decided to visit. When he arrived, he bounced happily up the stairs to the doorway of the house. He looked through the doorway with his ears lifted high and his tail wagging as fast as it could. To his great surprise, he found himself staring at 1000 other happy little dogs with their tails wagging just as fast as his. He smiled a great smile, and was answered with 1000 great smiles just as warm and friendly. As he left the House, he thought to himself, "This is a wonderful place. I will come back and visit it often."

In this same village, another little dog, who was not quite as happy as the first one, decided to visit the house. He slowly climbed the stairs and hung his head low as he looked into the door. When he saw the 1000 unfriendly looking dogs staring back at him, he growled at them and was horrified to see 1000 little dogs growling back at him. As he left, he thought to himself, "That is a horrible place, and I will never go back there again."

All the faces in the world are mirrors. What kind of reflections do you see in the faces of the people you meet?
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Vivekananda

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"VALUE HAS A VALUE ONLY IF ITS VALUE IS VALUED"
A well-known speaker started off his seminar by holding up a Rupee 500 note..



In the room of 200, he asked, "Who would like this Rupee 500 note?"



Hands started going up.. He said, "I am going to give this note to one of you
but first let me do this." He proceeded to crumple the note up.

He then asked, "Who still wants it?"
Still the hands were up in the air.

"Well," he replied, "What if I do this?" And he dropped it on the ground and
started to grind it into the floor with his shoe. He picked it up, now all
crumpled and dirty. "Now who still wants it?"
Still the hands went into the air.

"My friends, you have all learned a very valuable lesson.
No matter what I did to the money, you still wanted it because it did not
decrease in value. It was still worth Rupee 500/-.

Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled, and ground into the dirt
by the decisions we make and the circumstances that come our way. We feel as
though we are worthless.
But no matter what has happened or what will happen, you will never lose
your value..
You are special. Don't ever forget it! Never let yesterday's disappointments overshadow tomorrow's dreams.

"VALUE HAS A VALUE ONLY IF ITS VALUE IS VALUED"


If you start judging people you will be having no time to love them..
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Vivekananda

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Why Women Cry?
A little boy asked his mother, 'Why are you crying?' 'Because I'm a woman,' she told him.

'I don't understand,' he said. His Mom just hugged him and said, 'And you never will.'

Later the little boy asked his father, 'Why does mother seem to cry for no reason?'

'All women cry for no reason,' was all his dad could say.

The little boy grew up and became a man, still wondering why women cry..

Finally he put in a call to God. When God got on the phone, he asked, 'God, why do women cry so easily?'

God said

'When I made the woman she had to be special.

I made her shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of the world,yet gentle enough to give comfort.

I gave her an inner strength to endure childbirth and the rejection that many times comes from her children.

I gave her a hardness that allows her to keep going when everyone else gives up, and take care of her family through sickness and fatigue without complaining.

I gave her the sensitivity to love her children under any and all circumstances, even when her child has hurt her very badly.
I gave her strength to carry her husband through his faults and fashioned her from his rib to protect his heart.

I gave her wisdom to know that a good husband never hurts his wife, but sometimes tests her strengths and her resolve to stand beside him unfalteringly.

And finally, I gave her a tear to shed. This is hers exclusively to use whenever it is needed.'

'You see my son,' said God, 'the beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair.

The beauty of a woman must be seen in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart - the place where love resides.'
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Vivekananda

Regular Contributor

Joined: 11/01/2007 23:17:55
Messages: 110
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The Corn Story
There was a farmer who grew superior quality and award-winning CORN. Each year he entered his CORN in the state fair where it won honour and prizes.

Once a newspaper reporter interviewed him and learnt something interesting about how he grew it. The reporter discovered that the farmer shared his
seed corn with his neighbours'.
"How can you afford to share your best seed corn with your neighbours when they are entering corn in competition with yours each year?" the reporter
asked.

"Why sir, "said the farmer, "didn't you know? The wind picks up pollen from the ripening corn and swirls it from field to field. If my neighbours grow inferior, sub-standard and poor quality corn, cross-pollination will
steadily degrade the quality of my corn. If I am to grow good corn, I must help my neighbours grow good corn."

The farmer gave a superb insight into the connectedness of life. His corn cannot improve unless his neighbour's corn also improves. So it is in the
other dimensions! Those who choose to be at harmony must help their neighbours and colleagues to be at peace. Those who choose to live well must
help others to live well.

Success does not happen in isolation. It is very often a participative and collective process.
[WWW]
Vivekananda

Regular Contributor

Joined: 11/01/2007 23:17:55
Messages: 110
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The Window (Author Unknown)

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour a day to drain the fluids from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.

The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed next to the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed would live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the outside world. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake, the man had said. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Lovers walked arm in arm amid flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man could not hear the band, he could see it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Unexpectedly, an alien thought entered his head: Why should hehave all the pleasure of seeing everything while I never get to see anything? It didn't seem fair. As the thought fermented, the man felt ashamed at first. But as the days passed and he missed seeing more sights, his envy eroded into resentment and soon turned him sour. He began to brood and found himself unable to sleep. He should be by that window - and that thought now controlled his life.

Late one night, as he lay staring at the ceiling, the man by the window began to cough. He was choking on the fluid in his lungs. The other man watched in the dimly lit room as the struggling man by the window groped for the button to call for help. Listening from across the room, he never moved, never pushed his own button which would have brought the nurse running. In less than five minutes, the coughing and choking stopped, along with the sound of breathing. Now, there was only silence--deathly silence.

The following morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths. When she found the lifeless body of the man by the window, she was saddened and called the hospital attendant to take it away--no words, no fuss. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it all himself. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall.

Moral of the story:

The pursuit of happiness is a matter of choice...it is a positive attitude we consciously choose to express. It is not a gift that gets delivered to our doorstep each morning, nor does it come through the window. And I am certain that our circumstances are just a small part of what makes us joyful. If we wait for them to get just right, we will never find lasting joy.

The pursuit of happiness is an inward journey. Our minds are like programs, awaiting the code that will determine behaviors; like bank vaults awaiting our deposits. If we regularly deposit positive, encouraging, and uplifting thoughts, if we continue to bite our lips just before we begin to grumble and complain, if we shoot down that seemingly harmless negative thought as it germinates, we will find that there is much to rejoice about.
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Vivekananda

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The Lost Little Wave
Once upon a time, there was a little wave who'd grown tired and restless, worn out from all her to-ing and fro-ing between horizon and shore. One day, she heard of a great Ocean where there were no restless wanderings at the mercy of the tides, where everything was quiet and full of love. A huge desire arose in her to find this peaceful place, but -- she didn't know where to begin.

"Do you know the way to the Great Ocean?" she asked the other waves as they passed. One wave, an Elder who was greatly weighed down with seaweed, told her, "I've heard of this Ocean, but it is very far away and would take many lifetimes to reach." Another wave gurgled, "I've heard that if we are very kind and gentle waves, and live very, very good lives, then when we die, the great Ocean is where we will find ourselves."

"*You're all deluded, there is no such thing as this Ocean," added a swirling wave, cynically.

"Hey! Come with me!" called a fresh wave with a friendly voice. "I know a wise wave who has actually been to the Great Ocean and knows it well. I will introduce you to him!" And off they went.

As they were leaving, another wave grumbled,

Crazy kids! Why all this waste of energy searching for some mythical place? Why not be content with what you have?"

Soon, they arrived at the abode of the wise wave.

"Please, wise wave, can you show me the Great Ocean?" begged the little wave.

The wise wave stared laughing, in deep, warm gusts that sent spray skipping across the surface of the water. "What do you imagine the great Ocean is, my child?"

"I've heard it is a wonderful place, full of beauty and joy, that there is love and lasting peace there," trembled the little wave.

The wise wave laughed some more. "You are searching for this Great Ocean, little friend, but you are Ocean itself! How funny that you are not aware of this!"

This made the little wave more confused and a bit annoyed. "How can that be? I don't see any ocean. All I see are waves, waves and more waves!"

"That's because you think you are a wave," the wise wave smiled. At this, the little wave splashed against a nearby rock in frustration. "i don't understand anything you are saying! Can you show me the Great Ocean, yes or no?" she pressed impatiently.

"Okay, okay, determined little friend," said the wise wave, "but—before I do, would you mind diving below and massaging my aching feet?"

The little wave dived ... and disappeared as a wave.

In that moment, she discovered that the Great Ocean was not different from herself, that in fact, she was the Great Ocean itself-that she'd simply been dreaming that she was a single wave!

Knowing this, she enjoyed the play of dancing as each and every wave—in endless, immense joy.*
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Vivekananda

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Joined: 11/01/2007 23:17:55
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THE AMAZING STORY OF CLIFF YOUNG!


Cliff Young passed away a couple of years ago. But not before he had set some pretty astonishing records in ultra marathon running.

Every year, Australia hosts an 875-kilometer endurance racing from Sydney to Melbourne – considered to be the world's longest and toughest ultra-marathon. It's a long, tough race that takes five days and normally participated by world-class athletes who train specially for the event. Backed by big names in sports like Nike, these athletes are mostly less than 30 years old men and women equipped with the most expensive sponsored training outfits and shoes.

In 1983, these top class runners were in for a surprise. On the day of the race, a guy named Cliff Young showed up.

What was different about Young was that he was 61 years old and instead of wearing state of the art trainers and a comfortable t shirt and shorts he showed up in overalls and galoshes over his work boots.

Everybody thought that it was a crazy publicity stunt. But the press was curious, so as he took his number 64 and moved into the pack of runners in their special, expensive racing outfit, the camera focused on him and reporters started to ask:

"Who are you and what are you doing?"

"I'm Cliff Young. I'm from a large ranch where we run sheep outside of Melbourne."

They said, "You're really going to run in this race?"

"Yeah," Cliff nodded.

"Got any backers?"

"No."

"Then you can't run."

"Yeah I can." Cliff said. "See, I grew up on a farm where we couldn't afford horses or four wheel drives, and the whole time I was growing up-- until about four years ago when we finally made some money and got a four wheeler-- whenever the storms would roll in, I'd have to go out and round up the sheep. We had 2,000 sheep, and we have 2,000 acres. Sometimes I would have to run those sheep for two or three days. It took a long time, but I'd catch them. I believe I can run this race; it's only two more days. Five days. I've run sheep for three."

When the marathon started, the pros left Cliff behind in his galoshes. The crowds smiled because he didn't even run correctly. Instead of running, he appeared to run leisurely, shuffling like an amateur.

Now, every professional athlete ‘knew for certain’ that it took about 5 days to finish this race, and that in order to compete, you would need to run 18 hours and sleep 6 hours.

The thing is Cliff Young did not know that!

When the morning news of the race was aired, people were in for another big surprise. Cliff was still in the race and had jogged all night down to a city called Mittagong.

Apparently, Cliff did not stop after the first day. Although he was still far behind the world-class athletes, he kept on running. He kept running. Every night he got just a little bit closer to the leading pack. By the last night, he passed all of the world-class athletes. By the last day, he was way in front of them.

Not only did Cliff Young run the Melbourne to Sydney race at age 61, without dying; he won first place, breaking the race record by 9 hours and became a national hero!

Now for the Sydney to Melbourne race, almost nobody sleeps. To win that race, you have to run like Cliff Young did, you have to run all night as well as all day. And today ultra marathon runners affect a similar running style to Cliff Young...it saves energy!!


Never be held back by the norm
Never be held back by so called 'correct' beliefs
Create your own reality
Create your own destiny
Be proactive, not reactive
Be the best you that you can be!
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