You fear losing a certain
eminent position. You hope to gain something
from that, but it comes from elsewhere. Existence does this
switching trick, giving you hope from one source,
then satisfaction from another.
It keeps you bewildered
and wondering, and lets your trust
in the unseen grow.
you are ladybirds and the smell of a garden
You should expect grace,
that which makes life more than
manageable, but you look elsewhere,
wanting some delight other
than that.
Your conscious being,
with what you’ve been given,
should be like a beautifully laid-out park
with wildflowers and cultivated wonders,
a swift stream with places to sit
and rest beside it.
When a grieving person
sees you, he or see should recognize a
refuge, refreshment, a generous house where
one need not bring bread and cheese.
There will be plenty.
Love is the
last thirty-pound bale.*
When you load it on, the
boat tips over.
Sattva, the activity that always results in good, is the controlled activity, when we have a rein over it. This is the most difficult to attain, and needs the work and effort of a whole lifetime. All the saints and sages have had to journey through these grades and learn from experience, and they understand how difficult it is to attain control over our activity in life.
There are two ways in which we may attain control over our activity. The first is confidence in the power of our own will; to know that if we have failed today, tomorrow we will not do so. The second is to have our eyes wide open, and to watch keenly our activity in all aspects of life. It is in the dark that we fall, but in the light we can see where we are going.
You disciples and apostles,
you all do the same work, yet you try
to determine who’s above and who’s below.
Each of you thinks you’re special, and in that
vanity you irritate each other mightily.
You think there will not be enough,
so you fight for your portion
like dogs in the street.
Being in harmony
is the true way, not this itch
of greed, this constricted stall where
you and other donkeys get beaten with a stick.
Move instead to the praise-place, inside the
mystery, where prayer is unlimited,
and you feel the delight of
giving homage.