Post by Adam on Jan 25, 2009 13:02:47 GMT -1
A short tale on communication, simplicity and personal power
In a time further away and deeper than your most beautiful dreams, there lived a man who searched for grace. His searches took him to many weird and wonderful places, and lead him into many strange experiences. When asked what exactly he was looking for, he could not answer, simply saying that he would recognise it when he found it. Sometimes he found himself, feeling like the man who looked for his key under the streetlamp though he had lost it elsewhere, simply because it was easier to see under the lamp. So frequently he questioned himself as others questioned him, yet something continued to drive his search, a deep inner recognition that grace was there to be found.
One day, his search brought him to a race of powerful wizards. In fear and awe he approached the country of the magicians, only to be astounded (and if truth be known, a little disappointed) by the humility and simplicity of their lives. He travelled from sorcerer to sorcerer asking the same question, and although some laughed, some smiled and some gently nodded, the answer was always the same… that grace was not to be found for the searching in space and time. Yet something in him recognised something of what he was searching for, so he settled down and lived his life among these people, curious to know what it was that gave such a simple folk the reputation for sorcery.
In time, his drive to search had quietened, and although this mildly puzzled him, it caused him no sense of loss, for he had found a simple pleasure in the company of sorcerers. He discovered subtle ways of communicating, of simply being, with another that created feelings of well being in the present that extended far into the future. He noticed how well being and energy were passed from one to another as gifts and how the presence of one were the gifts of another. And, as his life became simpler, and he became indistinguishable in appearance and manner from those of the race of wizards, he came to realise on the inside how his search for grace was a search for a gift that was, and is, always there.
In a time further away and deeper than your most beautiful dreams, there lived a man who searched for grace. His searches took him to many weird and wonderful places, and lead him into many strange experiences. When asked what exactly he was looking for, he could not answer, simply saying that he would recognise it when he found it. Sometimes he found himself, feeling like the man who looked for his key under the streetlamp though he had lost it elsewhere, simply because it was easier to see under the lamp. So frequently he questioned himself as others questioned him, yet something continued to drive his search, a deep inner recognition that grace was there to be found.
One day, his search brought him to a race of powerful wizards. In fear and awe he approached the country of the magicians, only to be astounded (and if truth be known, a little disappointed) by the humility and simplicity of their lives. He travelled from sorcerer to sorcerer asking the same question, and although some laughed, some smiled and some gently nodded, the answer was always the same… that grace was not to be found for the searching in space and time. Yet something in him recognised something of what he was searching for, so he settled down and lived his life among these people, curious to know what it was that gave such a simple folk the reputation for sorcery.
In time, his drive to search had quietened, and although this mildly puzzled him, it caused him no sense of loss, for he had found a simple pleasure in the company of sorcerers. He discovered subtle ways of communicating, of simply being, with another that created feelings of well being in the present that extended far into the future. He noticed how well being and energy were passed from one to another as gifts and how the presence of one were the gifts of another. And, as his life became simpler, and he became indistinguishable in appearance and manner from those of the race of wizards, he came to realise on the inside how his search for grace was a search for a gift that was, and is, always there.