HUMAN's Musics by Yann Arthus-Bertrand

HUMAN's Musics
Composed by Armand Amar

Plato's Cave Story

Plato's Allegory of the Cave

Here's a little story from Plato's most famous book, The Republic.

Plato was a famous Greek philosopher who has had a great influence on human thought and civilization. Follow one of his thought-provoking arguments here, in which he encourages us to think intelligently for ourselves.

Imagine a group of people sitting in the gloom of a cave. They are prisoners, bound by their hands and feet, unable to move freely.All they can do is sit in a line and look straight ahead at the wall of the cave.

Now imagine that you are one of those shackled prisoners. However, you do not know you are a prisoner because you were born in the cave and it is the only life you have ever known. Because of the darkness of the cave, you cannot even see the other prisoners - although you know they are there, because you can talk to each other.

Every day on the cave wall in front of you, you see shapes pass back and forth. You and your fellow prisoners recognise these different shapes and give them names such as 'cat' or 'tree' or 'girl'. Amongst yourselves, you see who can be the best at telling which image will come along next.You are satisfied with your life because you cannot imagine anything different.

But unknown to you, your life in the cave is not a full picture of the truth. If we look behind you and your fellow prisoners, we can see that a walled roadway passes through the cave. People carry life-sized cut-outs of objects such as 'cats', 'trees' or 'girls' along this path.

If we pull back further still, we can see a fire burning away fiercely. This fire creates shadows of the life-sized cut-outs that are carried across in front of it. It is these shadows that you and the other prisoners are watching on the cave wall. What you think is true, is actually only a flat, shadowy copy of reality.

Now, imagine you are suddenly freed from your chains. You stand up and turn around for the first time... You cannot understand what you are seeing! A bright light that dazzles you! Clear objects and people that before you had only seen in gloomy shadows!

Confused, you walk past the fire and the walled roadway, and towards another light - and you find yourself outside in fresh air and daylight. The darkness of the cave has been left behind and for the first time in this new, outside world, you see colours and shapes. How terrible to have only seen shadows before!

Now your eyes have adjusted to the light, you look up and see the sun shining brightly in the sky. You begin to think - if the fire in the cave was responsible for creating those shadows on the wall, then it must be the sun that brings this better world to life.

Realising that you have been living a lie and have only been watching a shadow-play, you rush back to the other prisoners to tell them the truth. But they laugh at you and do not believe what you say! How can they? They have never seen anything but the inside of the cave and the shadows projected on the wall.

"...So you see my young student, we must strive hard to look beyond what seems obvious at first. Knowledge and truth comes only with effort - like having to clamber out of a rocky cave, perhaps to be dazzled by the light. There are greater truths and ideas still to be found...and once you find this 'outside world,' you will never want to go back to live the lie of life imprisoned in the shadows..."

Most people, including ourselves, live in a world of relative ignorance. We are even comfortable with that ignorance, because it is all we know. When we first start facing truth, the process may be frightening, and many people run back to their old lives. But if you continue to seek truth, you will eventually be able to handle it better. In fact, you want more! It's true that many people around you now may think you are weird or even a danger to society, but you don't care. Once you've tasted the truth, you won't ever want to go back to being ignorant!

The Cocoon & the Butterfly :A Lesson in Patience by Nikos Kazantzakis

A Lesson in Patience
From Zorba the Greek
Nikos Kazantzakis

I remembered one morning when I discovered a cocoon in the bark of a tree, just as the butterfly was making a hole in its case and preparing to come out. I waited a while, but it was too long appearing and I was impatient. I bent over it and breathed on it to warm it. I warmed it as quickly as I could and the miracle began to happen before my eyes, faster than life. The case opened, the butterfly started slowly crawling out and I shall never forget my horror when I saw how its wings were folded back and crumpled; the wretched butterfly tried with its whole trembling body to unfold them. Bending over it, I tried to help it with my breath. In vain. It needed to be hatched out patiently and the unfolding of the wings should be a gradual process in the sun. Now it was too late. My breath had forced the butterfly to appear, all crumpled, before its time. It struggled desperately and, a few seconds later, died in the palm of my hand.

That little body is, I do believe, the greatest weight I have on my conscience. For I realize today that it is a mortal sin to violate the great laws of nature. We should not hurry, we should not be impatient, but we should confidently obey the eternal rhythm.

The Train Of Life Story

Music:
Blue Skies - Daveed

The Train Of Life
Unknown

A while back, I read a very interesting book that compared
life to a train ride or a series of train rides.

Life is like a train ride,it read.We get on.We ride.We get off.
We get back on and ride some more.
There are accidents and there are delays.
At certain stops there are surprises.
Some of these will translate into great moments of joy,
some will result in profound sorrow.

When we are born and we first board the train,
we meet people whom we think will be with us for the entire journey. Those people are our parents!

Sadly, this is far from the truth.

Our parents are with us for as long as we absolutely need them.
They too have journeys they must complete.
We live on with the memories of their love, affection, friendship, guidance and their ever presence.

There are others who board the train and who eventually
become very important to us, in turn.
These people are our brothers, sisters, friends and acquaintances, whom we will learn to love, and cherish.

Some people consider their journey like a jaunty tour.
They will just go merrily along.

Others, will encounter many upsets, tears, losses on their journey. Others still, will linger on to offer a helping hand to anyone in need.

Some people on the train will leave an everlasting impression when they get off…. Some will get on and get off the train so quickly, they will scarsely leave a sign that they ever travelled along with you or ever crossed your path…

We will sometimes be upset that some passengers whom we love, will choose to sit in another compartment and leave us
to travel on our own.

Then again, there’s nothing that says we can’t seek them out anyway.

Nevertheless, once sought out and found,
we may not even be able to sit next to them because
that seat will already be taken.

That’s okay …everyone’s journey will be filled with hopes,dreams, challenges,setbacks and goodbyes.

We must strive to make the best of it … no matter what ...

We must constantly strive to understand our travel companions
and look for the best in everyone.

Remember that at any moment during our journey,
any one of our travel companions can have a weak moment and be in need of our help.

We too may vacilate or hesitate, even trip …
hopefully we can count on someone being there to be supportive and understanding…

The bigger mystery of our journey is that we don’t know
when our last stop will come.

Neither do we know when our travel companions
will make their last stop.

Not even those sitting in the seat next to us.

Personally, I know I’ll be sad to make my final stop…. I’m sure of it!

My separation from all those friends and acquaintances
I made during the train ride will be painful.
Leaving all those I’m close to will be a sad thing.
But then again, I’m certain that one day I’ll get to the main station
only to meet up with everone else.
They’ll all be carrying their baggage… most of which
they didn’t have when they first got on this train.

I’ll be glad to see them again.
I’ll also be glad to have contributed to their baggage…
and to have enriched their lives,
just as much as they will have contributed to my baggage
and enriched my life.

We’re all on this train ride together.
Above all, we should all try to strive to make the ride as pleasant and memorable as we can, right up until we each make the final stop and leave the train for the last time.

All aboard!
Safe journey!!

BON VOYAGE!

The Song of the Birds: value what you have

Vladimir Gusev Art

The Song of the Birds

The owner of a small business,a friend of the poet Olavo Bilac,
met him on the street and asked,

“Mr. Bilac, I need to sell my small farm the one you know so well. Could you please write an announcement for me for the paper?”

Bilac wrote: "For sale: a beautiful property, where birds sing at dawn in extensive woodland, bi-sected by the brilliant and sparkling waters of a large stream. The house is bathed by the rising sun.
It offers tranquil shade in the evenings on the veranda."

Some time later, the poet met his friend and asked whether he had sold the property to which he replied:

“I’ve changed my mind.
When I read what you had written,I realized the treasure that was mine.”

Sometimes we underestimate the good things we have,
chasing after the mirages of false treasures.
Look around and appreciate what you have:
your home,your loved ones,friends on whom you can really count,
the knowledge you have gained, your good health.
And all the beautiful things of life,
that are truly your most precious treasure.

Lessons of the geese(The goose Story)

Next autumn, when you see geese heading south for the winter, flying in a "V" formation, you might consider what science has discovered as to why they fly that way.

As geese flap their wings, they create an uplift for the bird following. By flying in a V formation, the whole flock adds 71% greater flying range than if any bird were to fly alone. If we share a common direction and a sense of community, we can get where we are going more quickly and easily because we are traveling on the thrust of one another!

Whenever a goose falls out of formation, it suddenly feels the drag and resistance of trying to fly alone, and quickly gets back into formation to take advantage of the lifting power of the bird immediately in front. If we have as much sense as geese, we will stay in formation with those who are headed where we want to go, and we will be willing to accept their help as well as give ours to others.

When the lead goose gets tired, it rotates back into formation and another goose flies at the point position. If we take turns doing the hard tasks and sharing leadership as with the geese, we become interdependent with one another.

The geese in formation honk from behind to encourage those up front to keep up their speed. If we “honk,” we need to make sure it is positive and encouraging.

When a goose gets sick or wounded or is shot down, two geese drop out of formation and follow it down to help and protect it. They stay with it until it is able to fly again or dies. They then launch out on their own, with another formation or catch up with the flock. If we have as much sense as geese, we too will stand by each other in difficult times, as well as when we are strong. Let us all try to fly in formation and remember to drop back to help those who might need it!

Things aren’t always what they seem. (Two Traveling Angels story)

Abbott Handerson Thayer Art

Things aren’t always what they seem
Author Unknown

Two traveling angels stopped to spend the night in the home of a wealthy family.

The family was rude and refused to let the angels stay in the mansion’s guest room. Instead the angels were given a small space in the cold basement.

As they made their bed on the hard floor, the older angel saw a hole in the wall and repaired it. When the younger angel asked why, the older angel replied, “Things aren’t always what they seem.”

The next night the pair came to rest at the house of a very poor, but very hospitable farmer and his wife.

After sharing what little food they had the couple let the angels sleep in their bed where they could have a good night’s rest. When the sun came up the next morning the angels found the farmer and his wife in tears. Their only cow, whose milk had been their sole income, lay dead in the field.

The younger angel was infuriated and asked the older angel, “How could you have let this happen? The first man had everything, yet you helped him.” – she accused. “The second family had little but was willing to share everything, and you let the cow die.”

“Things aren’t always what they seem.” – the older angel replied.

“When we stayed in the basement of the mansion, I noticed there was gold stored in that hole in the wall. Since the owner was so obsessed with greed and unwilling to share his good fortune, I sealed the wall so he wouldn’t find it. Then last night as we slept in the farmers bed, the angel of death came for his wife. I gave him the cow instead. Things aren’t always what they seem.”

Sometimes this is exactly what happens when things don't turn out the way they should. If you have faith, you just need to trust that every outcome is always to your advantage. You might not know it until some time later. Think about this:

Should you find it hard to get to sleep tonight; Just remember the homeless family who has no bed to lie in.

Should you find yourself stuck in traffic; don't despair. There are people in this world for whom driving is an unheard of privilege.

Should you have a bad day at work; Think of the man who has been out of work for the last three months.

Should you despair over a relationship gone bad; Think of the person who has never known what it's like to love and be loved in return.

Should your car break down, leaving you miles away from assistance; Think of the paraplegic who would love the opportunity to take that walk.

Should you notice a new gray hair in the mirror; Think of the cancer patient in chemo who wishes she had hair to examine.

Should you find yourself at a loss and pondering what is life all about, asking "what is my purpose"; Be thankful. There are those who didn't live long enough to get the opportunity.

Should you find yourself the victim of other people's bitterness, ignorance, smallness or insecurities; Remember, things could be worse. You could be them!

Two Wolves- A Native American Cherokee Story

Maija Painting

Two Wolves
A Native American Cherokee Story

One evening an old Cherokee Indian told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. He said, ‘My son, the battle is between two ‘wolves’ inside us all.One is Evil. It is anger,envy,jealousy,sorrow,regret,greed,arrogance, self-pity,guilt,resentment,inferiority,lies,false pride, superiority,and ego.

The other is good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility,kindness,benevolence,empathy,generosity,truth, compassion and faith.’

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: ‘Which wolf wins?’

The old Cherokee simply replied, ‘The one you feed.’

The Daffodil Principle Story By Jaroldeen Asplund Edwards

Edward Dufner Art

The Daffodil Principle
Jaroldeen Asplund Edwards

Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, "Mother, you must come see the daffodils before they are over." I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead.

"I will come next Tuesday, " I promised, a little reluctantly, on her third call.

Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and so I drove there. When I finally walked into Carolyn's house and hugged and greeted my grandchildren, I said, "Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in the clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see bad enough to drive another inch!"

My daughter smiled calmly and said,
"We drive in this all the time, Mother."

"Well, you won't get me back on the road until it clears, and then I'm heading for home!" I assured her.

"I was hoping you'd take me over to the garage
to pick up my car."

"How far will we have to drive?"

"Just a few blocks," Carolyn said. "I'll drive.
I'm used to this."

After several minutes, I had to ask, "Where are we going? This isn't the way to the garage!"

"We're going to my garage the long way," Carolyn smiled, "by way of the daffodils."wbr

"Carolyn," I said sternly, "please turn around."

"It's all right, Mother, I promise. You will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience."

After about twenty minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand-lettered sign that said, "Daffodil Garden."

We got out of the car and each took a child's hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then, we turned a corner of the path, and I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight. It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it down over the mountain peak and slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns-great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, saffron, and butter yellow. Each different-colored variety was planted as a group so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers.

"But who has done this?" I asked Carolyn.

"It's just one woman," Carolyn answered. "She lives on the property. That's her home."

Carolyn pointed to a well kept A-frame house that looked small and modest in the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house. On the patio, we saw a poster. "Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking" was the headline.

The first answer was a simple one."50,000 bulbs," it read. The second answer was, "One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and very little brain." The third answer was, "Began in 1958."

There it was, The Daffodil Principle. For me, that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before, had begun ~ one bulb at a time ~ to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountain top. Still, just planting one bulb at a time, year after year, had changed the world. This unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived. She had created something of ineffable (indescribable) magnificence, beauty, and inspiration.

The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration. That is, learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at a time ~ often just one baby-step at a time ~ and learning to love the doing, learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can accomplish magnificent things. We can change the world.

"It makes me sad in a way," I admitted to Carolyn. "What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five or forty years ago and had worked away at it 'one bulb at a time' through all those years. Just think what I might have been able to achieve!"

My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way. "Start tomorrow," she said.

How Much Music Can You Make? By Steve Goodier

How Much Music Can You Make?
Steve Goodier

Imagine this. A concert violinist is performing a difficult piece in front of a large audience. Suddenly there is a loud snap that reverberates throughout the auditorium. The audience immediately knows that a string has broken and fully expects the concert to be suspended until another string, or instrument, is brought to the musician.

But instead, the violinist composes herself, closes her eyes and then signals the conductor to begin again. The orchestra resumes where they had left off and now the musician plays the music on three strings. In her mind she works out new fingering to compensate for the missing string. A work that few people can play well on four strings, the violinist with the broken string plays on three.

When she finishes, an awesome silence hangs in the room. And then as one, the crowd rises to their feet and cheers wildly. The violinist smiles and wipes perspiration from her brow. When silence returns to the great room, she explains why she continued to play in spite of a broken string. "You know," she says, still breathless, "sometimes it is the artist's task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left.

We know what she means, don't we? Maybe we've lived most of our lives and we have only a little time left. Can we still make music?

Maybe disease has robbed us of our capacity to work.
Can we still make music?
Perhaps a financial loss has left us impoverished.
Can we still make music?
Or maybe a meaningful relationship has ended and we feel alone in the world. Can we still make music?

There will come a time when we all experience loss. Like the violinist, will we find the courage to discover just how much music we can still make with what we have left? How much good we can still do? How much joy we can still share? For I'm convinced that the world, more than ever, needs the music only you can make.

And if it takes extra courage to make the music, many will applaud your effort. For some people have lost more than others, and these brave souls inspire the rest of us to greater heights.

Just how much music can you make with what you have left?

ZEN STORIES: "It Will Pass"*"The Nature of Things"

It Will Pass

A student went to his meditation teacher and said, "My meditation is horrible! I feel so distracted, or my legs ache, or I'm constantly falling asleep. It's just horrible!" "It will pass," the teacher said matter-of-factly.

A week later, the student came back to his teacher. "My meditation is wonderful! I feel so aware, so peaceful, so alive! It's just wonderful!'

"It will pass," the teacher replied matter-of-factly.

The Nature of Things

Two monks were washing their bowls in the river when they noticed a scorpion that was drowning. One monk immediately scooped it up and set it upon the bank. In the process he was stung. He went back to washing his bowl and again the scorpion fell in. The monk saved the scorpion and was again stung.

The other monk asked him, "Friend, why do you continue to save the scorpion when you know it's nature is to sting?"

"Because," the monk replied, "to save it is my nature."

The Carpenter's House :inspirational story

The Carpenter's House
Author Unknown

An elderly carpenter was ready to retire. He told his employer-contractor of his plans to leave the house building business and live a more leisurely life with his wife enjoying his extended family.

He would miss the paycheck, but he needed to retire. They could get by. The contractor was sorry to see his good worker go and asked if he could build just one more house as a personal favor. The carpenter said yes, but in time it was easy to see that his heart was not in his work. He resorted to shoddy workmanship and used inferior materials. It was an unfortunate way to end his career.

When the carpenter finished his work and the builder came to inspect the house, the contractor handed the front-door key to the carpenter. "This is your house," he said, "my gift to you."

What a shock! What a shame! If he had only known he was building his own house, he would have done it all so differently. Now he had to live in the home he had built none too well.

So it is with us. We build our lives in a distracted way, reacting rather than acting, willing to put up less than the best. At important points we do not give the job our best effort. Then with a shock we look at the situation we have created and find that we are now living in the house we have built. If we had realized that we would have done it differently.

Think of yourself as the carpenter. Think about your house. Each day you hammer a nail, place a board, or erect a wall. Build wisely. It is the only life you will ever build. Even if you live it for only one day more, that day deserves to be lived graciously and with dignity. The plaque on the wall says, "Life is a do-it-yourself project." Your life tomorrow will be the result of your attitudes and the choices you make today.

The Color of Friendship:inspirational story by Author unknown

The Color of Friendship

Once upon a time the colors of the world started to quarrel.
All claimed that they were the best.
The most important.
The most useful.
The favorite.

Green said:
"Clearly I am the most important. I am the sign of life and of hope. I was chosen for grass, trees and leaves. Without me, all animals would die. Look over the countryside and you will see that I am in the majority."

Blue interrupted:
"You only think about the earth, but consider the sky and the sea. It is the water that is the basis of life and drawn up by the clouds from the deep sea. The sky gives space and peace and serenity. Without my peace, you would all be nothing."

Yellow chuckled:
"You are all so serious. I bring laughter, gaiety, and warmth into the world. The sun is yellow, the moon is yellow, the stars are yellow. Every time you look at a sunflower, the whole world starts to smile. Without me there would be no fun."

Orange started next to blow her trumpet:
"I am the color of health and strength. I may be scarce, but I am precious for I serve the needs of human life. I carry the most important vitamins. Think of carrots, pumpkins, oranges, mangoes, and papayas. I don't hang around all the time, but when I fill the sky at sunrise or sunset, my beauty is so striking that no one gives another thought to any of you."

Red could stand it no longer he shouted out:
"I am the ruler of all of you. I am blood - life's blood! I am the color of danger and of bravery. I am willing to fight for a cause. I bring fire into the blood. Without me, the earth would be as empty as the moon. I am the color of passion and of love, the red rose, the poinsettia and the poppy."

Purple rose up to his full height:
He was very tall and spoke with great pomp: "I am the color of royalty and power. Kings, chiefs, and bishops have always chosen me for I am the sign of authority and wisdom. People do not question me! They listen and obey."

Finally Indigo spoke, much more quietly than all the others, but with just as much determination: "Think of me. I am the color of silence. You hardly notice me, but without me you all become superficial. I represent thought and reflection, twilight and deep water. You need me for balance and contrast, for prayer and inner peace."

And so the colors went on boasting, each convinced of his or her own superiority. Their quarreling became louder and louder. Suddenly there was a startling flash of bright lightening thunder rolled and boomed. Rain started to pour down relentlessly. The colors crouched down in fear, drawing close to one another for comfort.

In the midst of the clamor, rain began to speak:
"You foolish colors, fighting amongst yourselves, each trying to dominate the rest. Don't you know that you were each made for a special purpose, unique and different? Join hands with one another and come to me."

Doing as they were told, the colors united and joined hands.

The rain continued: "From now on, when it rains, each of you will stretch across the sky in a great bow of color as a reminder that you can all live in peace. The Rainbow is a sign of hope for tomorrow." And so, whenever a good rain washes the world, and a Rainbow appears in the sky, let us remember to appreciate one another.

The Cracked Pot:Inspirational story

Eugen DE Blass painting

The Cracked Pot: A Story For Anyone Who's Not Quite Perfect

A waterbearer in India had two large pots, one hung on each end of a pole, which she carried across her neck.

One of the pots had a crack in it. While the other pot was perfect, and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the mistress's house, the cracked pot arrived only half full.

For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water to her master's house.

The perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.

After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream: "I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you."

Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?"

"I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your mistress's house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said.

The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in her compassion she said, "As we return to the mistress's house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path."

Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some.

But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so again it apologized to the bearer for its failure.

The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side?

“That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you've watered them.

“For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my mistress's table. Without you being just the way you are, she would not have this beauty to grace her house."

Moral: Each of us has our own unique flaws. We're all cracked pots.

But it's the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. We've just got to take each person for what they are, and look for the good in them.

There's a lot of good out there.

Songbird lyrics-Barbra Streisand

Music:
Songbird-Barbra Streisand
accompanied by story:
Birds:A lesson in perseverance

Songbird sings from the heart
Each word can tear you apart
I sing, you sing along
You find your life in my song

When you need the strength to carry on
You've got me to turn to

With the songs that I sing and the magic they bring
They've helped you be strong now
The song sets you free but who sings to me?
I'm all alone now, who sings for songbird?

Sometimes when I'm all alone
I sing my saddest song
Lonely, and no one can see
This time the song is for me

I can touch your secret place inside
And still you don't know me

With the songs that I sing and the magic they bring
You've learned to be strong now
The song sets you free but who sings to me?
I'm all alone now, where is my songbird?
Where is my songbird, who sings his songs for me?

Birds:A LESSON in PERSEVERANCE

Have you ever observed the behaviour of birds in the face of adversity? For days and days they make their nests, sometimes gathering materials brought from far away, And when they have completed the nest and are ready to lay eggs, the weather, or the work of humans, or some animal, destroys it, and it falls to the ground, all that they have done with so much effort .

Do they stop ? Bewildered, and leave the work ? No way. They start over building the nest again and again until they have eggs in the nest again. Sometimes,and very often before the chicks are are hatched, an animal, a child, or a storm destroys the nest once again, but this time with its valuable contents. It hurts to go back to begin again… Even so, the birds do not ever stop, they continue to sing and build, and keep singing and building…..

Do you sometimes get the feeling that your life, your work, your family is not what you had dreamed. Do you sometimes want to say “enough”, the effort is not worthwhile. It is all too much for me! Are you tired of it all? Do you feel that the daily struggle is a waste of time, your trust has been betrayed, your goals not reached just as you were about to get them?

Life strikes you down sometimes, but do you go on, say a prayer, put your faith in hope, not darkness? Do not worry if you get injured in the battle, that is to be expected. Gather yourself together and rebuild your life, so that it runs well again.

No matter what happens… Do not shrink back, but move forward. Life is a constant challenge, but it is worthwhile to mostly accept it. And never stop singing.

The Triple-Filter Test -Inspirational story

The Triple-Filter Test
Author Unknown

In ancient Greece, Socrates was reputed to hold knowledge in high esteem. One day an acquaintance met the great philosopher and said, "Do you know what I just heard about your friend?"

"Hold on a minute," Socrates replied. "Before you talk to me about my friend, it might be good idea to take a moment and filter what you’re going to say. That’s why I call it the triple filter test.The first filter is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true?"

"Well, no," the man said, "actually I just heard about it and…"

"All right," said Socrates. "So you don’t really know if it’s true or not. Now, let’s try the second filter, the filter of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about my friend something good?"

"Umm, no, on the contrary…"

"So," Socrates continued, "you want to tell me something bad about my friend, but you’re not certain it’s true. You may still pass the test though, because there’s one filter left—the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about my friend going to be useful to me?"

"No, not really."

"Well," concluded Socrates, "if what you want to tell me is neither true, nor good, nor even useful, why tell it to me at all?"

Inspirational Story:And This Too Shall Pass by Author Unknown

And This Too Shall Pass
Author Unknown

Long ago there was an Eastern Monarch who was troubled with many worries, harassed on all sides, so he called to him the wisest men in his counsel.

He asked them to create a motto, a few simple and magic words, that could help him in times of trouble and distress.

“It must be brief enough to be engraved on my ring.” he said.

That way he could have it close to him at all times.

The monarch lowered his gaze so that these men could not be shaken by the worry that plagued their ruler. He spoke, his words desperately trying to convey a courage that he hoped he would soon reclaim, “It must be appropriate in every situation, equally as useful in prosperity and adversity. It must be a motto wise and true. Something to last to the end of time. Simple words that any man, woman or child can be guided by their whole lives. In every circumstance, no matter what may happen”

For several days these wise men too to their task. They loved the monarch and it tore at their hearts to see him bear such a heavy sorrow.

Finally they emerged from their chambers and came to the Monarch with their magic words.

“These words shall comfort and give rise to wisdom for every change or or chance that life can take,” declared the wise men.

“Words that will fit every situation, good or bad, and our perceptions that cloud both extremes. Words to ease the heavy heart and tortured mind in every circumstance.”

And the words they gave the monarch to engrave of his cherished ring were:

And this too shall pass away

The Giving Tree by By Shel Silverstein

The Giving Tree
By Shel Silverstein

Once there was a tree…and she loved a little boy. And every day the boy would come and he would gather her leaves and make them into crowns and play king of the forest. He would climb up her trunk and swing from her branches and eat apples. And they would play hide-and-go-seek. And when he was tired, he would sleep in her shade. And the boy loved the tree … very much.

And the tree was happy.

But time went by. And the boy grew older. And the tree was often alone. Then one day the boy came to the tree and the tree said, “Come, Boy, come and climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and eat apples and play in my shade and be happy.” “I am too big to climb and play,” said the boy. “I want to buy things and have fun. I want some money. Can you give me some money?” “I’m sorry,” said the tree, “but I have no money. I have only leaves and apples. Take my apples, Boy, and sell them in the city. Then you will have money and you will be happy.”And so the boy climbed up the tree and gathered her apples and carried them away.

And the tree was happy.

But the boy stayed away for a long time …and the tree was sad. And then one day the boy came back and the tree shook with joy and she said, “Come, Boy, climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and be happy.” “I am too busy to climb trees,” said the boy. “I want a house to keep me warm,” he said.

“I want a wife and I want children, and so I need a house. Can you give me a house?” “I have no house,” said the tree. “The forest is my house, but you may cut off my branches and build a house. Then you will be happy.” And so the boy cut off her branches and carried them away to build his house.

And the tree was happy.

But the boy stayed away for a long time. And when he came back, the tree was so happy she could hardly speak. “Come, Boy,” she whispered, “come and play.” “I am too old and sad to play,” said the boy. “I want a boat that will take me far away from here. Can you give me a boat?” “Cut down my trunk and make a boat.” said the tree. “Then you can sail away … and be happy.” And so the boy cut down her trunk and made a boat and sailed away.

And the tree was happy … but not really.

And after a long time the boy came back again.”I am sorry, Boy,” said the tree, “but I have nothing left to give you, my apples are gone.”

“My teeth are too weak for apples”, said the boy. “My branches are gone”, said the tree. “You cannot swing on them -” “I am too old to swing on branches,” said the boy. “My trunk is gone,” said the tree. “You cannot climb -” “I am too tired to climb,” said the boy. “I am sorry,” sighed the tree. I wish that I could give you something…but I have nothing left. I am just an old stump. I am sorry….” “I don’t need very much now,” said the boy, “Just a quiet place to sit and rest. I am very tired.” “Well,” said the tree, straightening herself up as much as she could, “Well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting. Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest.” And the boy did.

And the tree was happy

Childhood and Poetry by Pablo Neruda

Childhood and Poetry
Pablo Neruda
From "The Book of Virtues"

One time, investigating in the backyard of our house in Temuco the tiny objects and minuscule beings of my world, I came upon a hole in one of the boards of the fence. I looked through the hole and saw a landscape like that behind our house, uncared for, and wild. I moved back a few steps, because I sensed vaguely that something was about to happen. All of a sudden a hand appeared, a tiny hand of a boy about my own age. By the time I came close again, the hand was gone, and in its place there was a marvelous white sheep.

The sheep's wool was faded. Its wheels had escaped. All of this only made it more authentic. I had never seen such a wonderful sheep. I looked back through the hole but the boy had disappeared. I went into the house and brought out a treasure of my own: a pinecone, opened, full of odor and resin, which I adored. I set it down in the same spot and went off with the sheep.

I never saw either the hand or the boy again. And I have never again seen a sheep like that either. The toy I lost finally in a fire. But even now, in 1954, almost fifty years old, whenever I pass a toy shop, I look furtively into the window, but it's no use. They don't make sheep like that anymore.

I have been a lucky man. To feel the intimacy of brothers is a marvelous thing in life. To feel the love of people whom we love is a fire that feeds our life. But to feel the affection that comes from those whom we do not know, from those unknown to us, who are watching over our sleep and solitude, over our dangers and our weaknesses, that is something still greater and more beautiful because it widens out the boundaries of our being, and unites all living things.

That exchange brought home to me for the first time a precious idea: that all of humanity is somehow together. That experience came to me again much later; this time it stood out strikingly against a background of trouble and persecution.

It won't surprise you then that I attempted to give something resiny, earthlike, and fragrant in exchange for human brotherhood. Just as I once left the pinecone by the fence, I have since left my words on the door of so many people who were unknown to me, people in prison, or hunted, or alone.

That is the great lesson I learned in my childhood, in the backyard of a lonely house. Maybe it was nothing but a game two boys played who didn't know each other and wanted to pass to the other some good things of life. Yet maybe this small and mysterious exchange of gifts remained inside me also, deep and indestructible, giving my poetry light.

The seeker of truth/Inspirational Story

The seeker of truth.
Author unknown

After years of searching, the seeker was told to go to a cave, in which he would find a well.
'Ask the well what is truth', he was advised, 'and the well will reveal it to you'. Having found the well, the seeker asked that most fundamental question. And from the depths came the answer, 'Go to the village crossroad: there you shall find what you are seeking'.

Full of hope and anticipation the man ran to the crossroad to find only three rather uninteresting shops. One shop was selling pieces of metal, another sold wood, and thin wires were for sale in the third. Nothing and no one there seemed to have much to do with the revelation of truth.

Disappointed, the seeker returned to the well to demand an explanation, but he was told only, 'You will understand in the future.' When the man protested, all he got in return were the echoes of his own shouts. Indignant for having been made a fool of - or so he thought at the time - the seeker continued his wanderings in search of truth. As years went by, the memory of his experience at the well gradually faded until one night, while he was walking in the moonlight, the sound of sitar music caught his attention. It was wonderful music and it was played with great mastery and inspiration.

Profoundly moved, the truth seeker felt drawn towards the player. He looked at the fingers dancing over the strings. He became aware of the sitar itself.
And then suddenly he exploded in a cry of joyous recognition: the sitar was made out of wires and pieces of metal and wood just like those he had once seen in the three stores and had thought it to be without any particular significance.

At last he understood the message of the well: we have already been given everything we need: our task is to assemble and use it in the appropriate way. Nothing is meaningful so long as we perceive only separate fragments. But as soon as the fragments come together into a synthesis, a new entity emerges, whose nature we could not have foreseen by considering the fragments alone.