The Little Book of Life's Wisdom
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But the restless say, “We have heard her
shouting among the mountains. And with her
cries came the sound of hoofs and the beating
of wings and the roaring of lions.”
B E AU T Y A N D T H E S O N G O F L I F E
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At night the watchers of the city say, “Beauty
shall rise with the dawn from the east.”
And at noontide the toilers and the wayfar-
ers say, “We have seen her leaning over the earth
from the windows of the sunset.”
In winter say the snowbound, “She shall
come with the spring, leaping upon the hills.”
And in the summer heat the reapers say, “We
have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves,
and we saw a drift of snow in her hair.”
All these things have you said of beauty,
yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs
unsatisfied.
And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.
It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand
stretched forth,
but rather a heart inflamed and a soul
enchanted.
It is not the image you would see nor the song
you would hear,
but rather an image you see though you close
your eyes
and a song you hear though you shut your ears.
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It is not the sap within the furrowed bark,
nor a wing attached to a claw,
but rather a garden forever in bloom
and a flock of angels forever in flight.
People of Orphalese,
beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.
But you are life and you are the veil.
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.
But you are eternity and you are the mirror.
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SOUL OF THE DANCER
Once there came to the court of the prince of
Bkerkasha a dancer with her musicians. She was
admitted to the court, and she danced before the
prince to the music of the lute and the flute and
the zither.
She danced the dance of flames and the
dance of swords and spears. She danced the
dance of stars and the dance of space. And then
she danced the dance of flowers in the wind.
After this, she stood before the throne of the
prince and bowed her body before him.
And the prince bade her to come nearer, and
he said unto her, “Beautiful woman, daughter of
grace and delight, whence comes your art? And
how is it that you command all the elements in
your rhythms and your rhymes?”
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And the dancer bowed again before the
prince and she answered, “Mighty and gracious
Majesty, I know not the answer to your question-
ings. Only this I know: The philosopher’s soul
dwells in the head, the poet’s soul is in the heart,
the singer’s soul lingers about the throat, but the
soul of the dancer abides in all of her body.”
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AN HOUR DEVOTED TO
BEAUTY AND LOVE
One hour devoted to the pursuit of beauty and
love is worth a full century of glory given by the
frightened weak to the strong.
From that hour comes humanity’s truth. And
during that century truth sleeps between the
restless arms of disturbing dreams.
In that hour the soul sees for herself the
natural law, and for that century she imprisons
herself behind the laws of humanity, and she is
shackled with irons of oppression.
That hour was the inspiration for the Songs
of Solomon, and that century was the blind
power that destroyed the temple of Baalbek.
That hour was the birth of the Sermon on the
Mount, and that century wrecked the castles of
Palmyra and the Tower of Babylon.
That hour was the Hejira of Muhammad, and
that century forgot Allah, Golgotha, and Sinai.
One hour devoted to mourning and lament-
ing the stolen equality of the weak is nobler than
a century filled with greed and usurpation.
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It is at that hour that the heart is purified
by flaming sorrow and illuminated by the torch
of love.
And in that century that desires for truth are
buried in the bosom of the earth.
That hour is the root that must flourish.
That hour is the hour of contemplation,
the hour of prayer, and the hour of a new era
of good.
And that century is a life of Nero spent on
self-investment taken solely from earthly sub-
stance.
This is life—portrayed on the stage for ages,
recorded on earth for centuries, lived in strange-
ness for years, sung as a hymn for days, exalted
for but an hour—but the hour is treasured by
eternity as a jewel.
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3
Life’s Human
Journey
Daily life provides the opportunity to
learn about the many ways that the
Greater Life expresses itself through us.
The journey of human life presents its
own unique twists and turns.
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YOUR DAILY LIFE IS YOUR TEMPLE
Your daily life is your temple and your religion.
Whenever you enter into it, take with you
your all.
Take the plough and the forge and the mallet
and the lute—
the things you have fashioned in necessity or
for delight.
For in reverie you cannot rise above your
achievements
nor fall lower than your failures.
And take with you all people:
for in adoration you cannot fly higher than
their hopes
nor humble yourself lower than their despair.
And if you would know God,
be not therefore a solver of riddles.
Rather look about you and you shall see God
playing with your children.
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And look into space—
you shall see God walking in the cloud,
&nb
sp; arms outstretched in the lightning,
then descending in the rain.
You shall see God smiling in the flowers,
then rising and waving hands in the trees.
L I F E ’ S H U M A N J O U R N E Y
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BURYING DEAD SELVES
Once, as I was burying one of my dead selves,
the grave digger came by and said to me, “Of all
those who come here to bury, you alone I like.”
Said I, “You please me exceedingly, but why
do you like me?”
“Because,” said he, “The others come weep-
ing and go weeping—you only come laughing
and go laughing.”
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GIVING UP A KINGDOM
They told me that in a forest among the moun-
tains lived a young man in solitude who once
was a king of a vast country beyond the Two
Rivers3. And they also said that he, of his own
will, had left his throne and the land of his glory
and come to dwell in the wilderness.
And I said, “I would seek that man, and learn
the secret of his heart. For he who renounces a
kingdom must needs be greater than a kingdom.”
On that very day, I went to the forest where
he dwelt. And I found him sitting under a white
cypress, and in his hand he held a reed as if
it were a scepter. And I greeted him even as I
would greet a king. And he turned to me and
said gently, “What would you in this forest of
serenity? Seek you a lost self in the green shad-
ows, or is it a homecoming in your twilight?”
And I answered, “I seek only you—for I fain
would know what made you leave a kingdom
for a forest.”
3. Tigris and Euphrates.
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And he said, “Brief is my story, for sudden
was the bursting of the bubble. It happened
thus: One day as I sat at a window in my palace,
my chamberlain and an envoy from a foreign
land were walking in my garden. And as they
approached my window, the lord chamberlain
was speaking of himself and saying, ‘I am like
the king. I have a thirst for strong wine and a
hunger for all games of chance. And like my lord
the king, I have storms of temper.’ And the lord
chamberlain and the envoy disappeared among
the trees. But in a few minutes they returned,
and this time the lord chamberlain was speaking
of me, and he was saying, ‘My lord the king is
like myself—a good marksman—and like me he
loves music and bathes thrice a day.’”
After a moment he added, “On the eve of that
day, I left my palace with but my garment, for I
would no longer be ruler over those who assume
my vices and attribute to me their virtues.”
And I said, “This is indeed a wonder, and
passing strange.”
And he said, “Nay, my friend, you knocked at
the gate of my silences and received but a trifle.
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For who would not leave a kingdom for a forest,
where the seasons sing and dance ceaselessly?
Many are those who have given their kingdom
for less than solitude and the sweet fellowship of
aloneness. Countless are the eagles who descend
from the upper air to live with moles that they
may know the secrets of the earth.
“There are those who renounce the kingdom
of dreams that they may not seem distant from
the dreamless. And those who renounce the
kingdom of nakedness and cover their souls that
others may not be ashamed in beholding truth
uncovered and beauty unveiled.
“And greater yet than all of these are those
who renounce the kingdom of sorrow that they
may not seem proud and vainglorious.”
Then rising, he leaned upon his reed and
said, “Go now to the great city and sit at its gate
and watch all those who enter into it and those
who go out. And see that you find him who,
though born a king, is without kingdom. And
him who, though ruled in flesh, rules in spirit—
though neither he nor his subjects know this.
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And him also who but seems to rule yet is in
truth slave of his own slaves.”
After he had said these things, he smiled on
me, and there were a thousand dawns upon his
lips. Then he turned and walked away into the
heart of the forest.
And I returned to the city, and I sat at its gate
to watch the passersby, even as he had told me.
And from that day to this, numberless are
the kings whose shadows have passed over me,
and few are the subjects over whom my shadow
passed.
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POSSESSIONS
What are your possessions
but things you keep and guard
for fear you may need them tomorrow?
And tomorrow, what shall tomorrow bring
to the over-prudent dog
burying bones in the trackless sand
as it follows the pilgrims to the holy city?
And what is fear of need but need itself?
Is not dread of thirst when your well is full,
a thirst that is unquenchable?
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TREASURE
Dig anywhere in the earth
and you will find a treasure,
only you must dig
with the faith of a peasant.
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THE VALUE OF TIME
They deem me mad because
I will not sell my days for gold.
And I deem them mad because
they think my days have a price.
They spread before us their riches
of gold and silver, of ivory and ebony,
and we spread before them
our hearts and our spirits.
And yet they deem
themselves the hosts
and us the guests.
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WITH SENSES CONTINUALLY
MADE NEW
A philosopher describes Jesus:
When he was with us, he gazed at us and at
our world with eyes of wonder, for his eyes
were
not veiled with the veil of years, and all that he
saw was clear in the light of his youth.
Though he knew the depth of beauty, he was
forever surprised by its peace and its majesty.
And he stood before the earth as the first man
had stood before the first day.
We whose senses have been dulled, we gaze
in full daylight and yet we do not see. We would
cup our ears, but we do not hear, and stretch
forth our hands, but we do not touch. And
though all the incense of Arabia is burned, we
go our way and do not smell.
We see not the ploughman returning from his
field at eventide, nor hear the shepherd’s flute
when he leads his flock to the fold. Nor do we
stretch our arms to touch the sunset, and our
nostrils hunger no longer for the roses of Sharon.
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Nay, we honor no kings without kingdoms,
nor hear the sound of harps save when the
strings are plucked by hands. Nor do we see a
child playing in our olive grove as if he were a
young olive tree. And all words must needs rise
from lips of flesh, or else we deem each other
dumb and deaf.
In truth we gaze but do not see, and hear-
ken but do not hear. We eat and drink but do
not taste.
And there lies the difference between Jesus
of Nazareth and ourselves.
His senses were all continually made new,
and the world to him was always a new world.
To him the lisping of a babe was not less
than the cry of all humanity, while to us it is
only lisping.
To him the root of a buttercup was a longing
towards God, while to us it is naught but a root.
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WORK IS LOVE
You work that you may keep pace with the earth
and the soul of the earth.
For to be idle is to become a stranger unto
the seasons and to step out of life’s procession,
which marches in majesty and proud submission
towards the infinite.
When you work, you are a flute through
whose heart the whispering of the hours turns
to music.
When you work, you fulfill a part of earth’s