Mole Hill

A friend of mine had a real issue. He had built his new office on a beautiful piece of land, and with the lawn in the front well kept; the appearance was one of order. However a problem had arisen.

Molehills began to appear in the yard, and not just one or two. As he gazed from his office window, he watched as his manicured lawn became a playground for destruction.

He described a feeling of helplessness. When he visited with ten people on the subject of getting rid of them, he received ten different answers. All of the remedies he received would allow him to sit comfortably from his desk chair and watch them leave.

But they never did. In fact, like most of us, the ruination had become so extensive that he just decided to give up. But, his heart would stand it no longer. He traveled outdoors with a shovel and decided to wait.

Suddenly, he noticed movement of dirt from one of the mounds. He immediately began to dig and he captured one of the creatures. The tiny six inch animal was now completely helpless as it lay above ground. My friend could only stare in amazement of what this tiny animal was capable of. And by bringing it to the surface, it was powerless.

He immediately knew God was speaking with him. He began to describe the destruction of moles in his own life. The process started just like the beginning of this story. An appearance that all was well. Even believing it himself for awhile.

The sin in his life was burrowing through his heart and life and leaving incredible damage at the surface. Some people told him it would just go away, but it never did. He tried to sit in a comfortable place and ignore it, but his heart could stand it no longer.

He made a trip to the place where it worked, and brought it to the surface. An opportunity to see how something so small could wreck him from the inside out.

He made us all better mole hunters that day. By describing the sin in our own lives, we began to bring them to the surface. We shovel moles in confession to one another. Then God can help us eradicate them.

Mountain of dirt.

It's always a great idea to keep the front lawn looking tidy and to repair any problems. With this thought in mind, we had delivered a dump truck full of topsoil in order to fill in two large holes created when two old tree stumps were removed.

The big, big mound of earth sat there dumped 200 feet away from these holes waiting for me to begin the process. What had started out as a great idea soon soured when I realized that this big, big mound of earth was not going to move itself and seemed overwhelming. All I could see, as I stood beside it with my shovel and wheelbarrow, was a dump truck full of topsoil; a mound of earth that looked more like a mini-mountain than a pile of earth that would be a simple Saturday afternoon chore. Oh my goodness, why did I ever think that this hole filling, lawn repair project, was something I would be able to tackle?

After staring at this pile of topsoil for ten minutes wondering whether I should hire someone to do what I just couldn't see myself doing, an old Chinese proverb came to mind, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." The translation of this proverb to the task at hand immediately became obvious. I needed to take one shovel at a time until a wheelbarrow was full, and then keep filling one wheelbarrow at a time and dumping it until one hole was full then simply repeating the process until both holes were finished.

You see, what I had to remind myself was that what might at first appear as an overwhelming task, or something I couldn't see myself doing, would be resolved by simply taking one step at a time, or one action at a time, over and over again.

Projects, problems, or one's own need to learn a new job or career skill has the same application. Every difficult goal that, at first, may be viewed as an insurmountable obstacle can be resolved when you implement a strategy that requires only one-step at a time. Each action taken moves you forward, continuous progress is seen, and the final goal is closer and closer until it is accomplished.

Mountain of dirt.

It's always a great idea to keep the front lawn looking tidy and to repair any problems. With this thought in mind, we had delivered a dump truck full of topsoil in order to fill in two large holes created when two old tree stumps were removed.

The big, big mound of earth sat there dumped 200 feet away from these holes waiting for me to begin the process. What had started out as a great idea soon soured when I realized that this big, big mound of earth was not going to move itself and seemed overwhelming. All I could see, as I stood beside it with my shovel and wheelbarrow, was a dump truck full of topsoil; a mound of earth that looked more like a mini-mountain than a pile of earth that would be a simple Saturday afternoon chore. Oh my goodness, why did I ever think that this hole filling, lawn repair project, was something I would be able to tackle?

After staring at this pile of topsoil for ten minutes wondering whether I should hire someone to do what I just couldn't see myself doing, an old Chinese proverb came to mind, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." The translation of this proverb to the task at hand immediately became obvious. I needed to take one shovel at a time until a wheelbarrow was full, and then keep filling one wheelbarrow at a time and dumping it until one hole was full then simply repeating the process until both holes were finished.

You see, what I had to remind myself was that what might at first appear as an overwhelming task, or something I couldn't see myself doing, would be resolved by simply taking one step at a time, or one action at a time, over and over again.

Projects, problems, or one's own need to learn a new job or career skill has the same application. Every difficult goal that, at first, may be viewed as an insurmountable obstacle can be resolved when you implement a strategy that requires only one-step at a time. Each action taken moves you forward, continuous progress is seen, and the final goal is closer and closer until it is accomplished.

Little bit of joy !!

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. It was a cowboy's life, a life for someone who wanted no boss. What I didn't realize was that it was also a ministry. Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional.

Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives. I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, made me laugh and weep. But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night. I responded to a call from a small brick four-plex in a quiet part of town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some partiers, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a worker heading to an early shift at some factory in the industrial part of town.

When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away. But I had seen too many poor people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needed my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked.

"Just a minute," answered a frail, elderly voice.

I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knick- knacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said.

I took the suitcase to the cab, and then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.

"It's nothing," I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated."

"Oh, you're such a good boy," she said.

When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"

"It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.

"Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice."

I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening.

"I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long."

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you like me to take?" I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go now."

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were attentive, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.

"Nothing," I said.

"You have to make a living," she answered.

"There are other passengers," I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you, Dear."

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk.

What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done very many more important things in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware - beautifully wrapped in what others may consider small ones.

Little bit of joy !!

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. It was a cowboy's life, a life for someone who wanted no boss. What I didn't realize was that it was also a ministry. Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional.

Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives. I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, made me laugh and weep. But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night. I responded to a call from a small brick four-plex in a quiet part of town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some partiers, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a worker heading to an early shift at some factory in the industrial part of town.

When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away. But I had seen too many poor people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needed my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked.

"Just a minute," answered a frail, elderly voice.

I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knick- knacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said.

I took the suitcase to the cab, and then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.

"It's nothing," I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated."

"Oh, you're such a good boy," she said.

When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"

"It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.

"Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice."

I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening.

"I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long."

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you like me to take?" I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go now."

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were attentive, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.

"Nothing," I said.

"You have to make a living," she answered.

"There are other passengers," I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you, Dear."

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk.

What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done very many more important things in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware - beautifully wrapped in what others may consider small ones.

Little Candle

Once upon a time a little candle stood in a room filled with other candles, most of them much larger and much more beautiful than she was. Some were ornate and some were rather simple, like herself. Some were white, some were blue, some were pink, some were green. She had no idea why she was there, and the other candles made her feel rather small and insignificant.

When the sun went down and the room began to get dark, she noticed a large man walking toward her with a ball of fire on a stick. She suddenly realized that the man was going to set her on fire. "No, no!!" she cried, "Aaaaagghhh! Don't burn me, please!" But she knew that she could not be heard and prepared for the pain that would surely follow.

To her surprise, the room filled with light. She wondered where it came from since the man had extinguished his fire stick. To her delight, she realized that the light came from herself.

Then the man struck another fire stick and, one by one, lit the other candles in the room. Each one gave out the same light that she did.

During the next few hours, she noticed that, slowly, her wax began to flow. She became aware that she would soon die. With this realization came a sense of why she had been created. "Perhaps my purpose on earth is to give out light until I die," she mused. And that's exactly what she did.

God created you and I to produce light in a dark world. Like that little candle, we all can produce the same amount of light, no matter how small we are or what color we might be.

The Swing Set

Mr. Jones wanted to build his son a swing set. He slaved away each evening and grew tired and irritable causing concern for his wife. “You’re working so hard,” she said. “Wasn’t our neighbor, Mr.Williams, a carpenter when he was young? Couldn’t you ask him for help?”

“But Mr. Williams has done enough work in his life. I wouldn’t want to bother him.”

So Mr. Jones kept working, until finally the swing set was finished, and he set it up in the backyard. A few days later, Mr. Jones went outside and found Mr. Williams gazing at the swing set.

“Hi, Mr. Williams. How do you like the new swing set?”

“Oh, it’s wonderful. I built something like that for my son many years ago.” His eyes looked sad, and

Mr. Jones remembered that Mr.Williams’ son had moved far away for a job. “I wish you had told me you were building it,” Mr. Williams said. “Your son is a good boy. I would have loved to help you do something nice for him.” They chatted for another minute, and Mr. Jones went inside, realizing for the first time that Mr. Williams was lonely.

MORAL: Don’t be afraid to ask the people around you for help – an act of kindness is a joy to both the giver and the receiver.

Personal reflection.

Doesn’t it just make you stop in your place and realize the importance of relationships and working together? In times of need, we think we have to suffer alone and “deal” all by ourselves... but it doesn’t have to be that way. For one reason or another, many of us dislike asking for help, even when we need it. Perhaps we don’t want to be a burden or we have a hard time leaving ourselves vulnerable. But more often than not, when we ask for help, we can actually give others a sense of worth and value. In the case of Mr. Williams, being asked to participate would have been a fulfilling experience for him. Are there people in your life that would love to lend a helping hand? There are plenty of people who are willing to help you in whatever way they can – your partner, brother, sister, parent, friend, colleague, or even a personal coach. Everyone can offer something of value, whether it is an expertise, experience, or an ear.

In fact, if only you choose to allow others into your life, there may be a loved one who joyfully carries your burden with you, lightening your load, and offering you comfort.

Good ol’ Mr. Williams was ready and willing to offer his expertise as a carpenter, but Mr. Jones didn’t ask. He was afraid to! Mr. Jones didn’t want to bother him, but he didn’t realize that Mr. Williams

would have been more than happy to help. In fact, it meant more to Mr. Williams than Mr. Jones ever imagined. Make the conscious effort to think of those around you whenever you participate in an activity. By involving others, you just may be giving them a deeper meaning and self-worth. After all, the joy you bring to others will be returned to you!

Self-Reflection Questions:

• Do I like being asked for help?

• How many people in my life, right now, would love to support me, if only they knew I needed help?

• Why is it important for me to bring joy to others?

• How might I involve others more in my life?

7 wonders of the world.

A group of students was asked to list what they thought were the present Seven Wonders of the World. Though there was some disagreement, the following got the most votes:
1. Egypt's Great Pyramids.
2. Taj Mahal.
3. Grand Canyon.
4. Panama Canal.
5. Empire State Building.
6. St. Peter's Basilica.
7. China's Great Wall.

While gathering the votes, the teacher noted that one quiet student hadn't turned in her paper yet. So she asked the girl if she was having trouble with her list.

The girl replied, "Yes, a little. I couldn't quite make up my mind because there were so many.”

The teacher said, "Well, tell us what you have, and maybe we can help.” The girl hesitated, then read, "I think the Seven Wonders of the World are: -
1. To touch.
2. To taste.
3. To see.
4. To hear.
She hesitated a little, and then added: -
5. To feel.
6. To laugh.
7. And to love.

The room was so full of silence you could have heard a pin drop. Those things we overlook as simple and "ordinary" are truly wondrous.

A gentle reminder that the most precious things are before you: your family, your faith, your love, your good health and your friends.

Secret of Jimmy Yen

A JURY OF DISTINGUISHED scholars and scientists, including Albert Einstein and Orville Wright thought enough of Jimmy Yen to vote him one of the top ten Modern Revolutionaries of the Twentieth Century. Yet all he did was teach Chinese peasants to read.

What made that so amazing was that for four thousand years reading and writing in China was only done by the Scholars. "Everybody" knew, including the peasants themselves, that peasants were incapable of learning.

That thoroughly ingrained cultural belief was Jimmy Yen's first "impossible" barrier. The second barrier was the Chinese language itself, consisting of 40,000 characters, each character signifying a different word! The third barrier was the lack of technology and good roads. How could Jimmy Yen reach the 350 million peasants in China?

Impossible odds, an impossibly huge goal-and yet he had almost attained it when he was forced (by Communism) to leave his country.

Did he give up? No. He learned from defeat and expanded his goal: Teach the rest of the Third World to read. Practical reading programs, like the ones he invented in China, started pumping out literate people like a gushing oil well in the Philippines, Thailand, Sri Lanka, Nepal, Kenya, Columbia, Guatemala, Indonesia, Bangladesh, Ghana, India — people became literate. For the first time in their entire genetic history, they had access to the accumulated knowledge of the human race.

For those of us who take literacy for granted, I'd like you to consider for a moment how narrow your world would be if you'd never learned how to read and there was no access to radios or TVs.

180,000 Chinese peasants were hired by the Allied Forces in WW1 as laborers in the war effort. Most of them had no idea- not a clue-where England, Germany or France was, they didn't know what they were being hired to do, and didn't even know what a war was!

Jimmy Yen was a savior to them.

What was the secret of Jimmy Yen's success? He found a real need, and found in himself a strong desire to answer that need. And he took some action: He tried to do something about it even though it seemed impossible. He worked long hours. And he started with what he had in front of him and gradually took on more and more, a little upon a little.

The English author Thomas Carlyle said, "Our main business is not to see what lies dimly at a distance, but to do what lies clearly at hand." And that's what Jimmy Yen did. He started out teaching a few peasants to read, with no desks, no pens, no money, no overhead projectors. He started from where he found himself and did what was clearly at hand.

And that's all you need to do. Start now. Start here. And do what lies clearly at hand.

Strangers in the Night

“People are in their own world and they don’t want you interrupting their day. Folk on the subway don’t talk.” So I’d been given the rules ahead of time. People did not want me trying to be friendly. Well that was going to be difficult if not impossible.

We climbed on as the train (sub way) pulled in and there was only one seat. My husband nodded at me to take it while he and our son stood. I scrunched into the space beside a grey-haired woman and immediately she muttered in a disgruntled manner, “Oh Yeah she had to sit here. Make me all uncomfortable. I shoulda known.”

“I’m sorry” I told her. “Do you want me to move?”

With a huge sigh she muttered back, “I suppose you can stay.”

The words were okay but the tone of her voice told me I was not welcome in the seat.

“I can move if you would like me to. Really. I don’t mind, especially if it is bothering you,” I told her in a gentle and sincere manner.

Another sigh, and she told me to stay. “No, it’s okay you can stay.”

So strangers don’t want me to talk on the subway. Okay, but she had started this so I figured we could have a conversation and I felt challenged to change her negative perspective. I asked her if she had ever been out to Alberta. She waited all of two seconds, then responded, “No but we’ve been through on the way to Vancouver.”

“I love it there,” I told her and went on to mention the great weather, friendly people and beautiful plants. “Where are you from originally?” I asked her

Now here was a topic she wanted to talk about and soon I heard about her life in the old country and the languages she learned. She talked until it was time for her to get off, smiled and warmly bid me good-bye.

Hey this subway traveling is okay!

At a station the following day my husband and son went to buy tickets and I stood watching people. The ticket taker caught me watching him and he frowned. I smiled at him and he glared back at me. I kept on smiling and would not turn away. He walked over to me with this stern look and matching gait.

“Did you want to sing a song for me?” he asked

Surprised, yet pleased he was talking to me, (but then maybe ticket takers don’t count), I responded, “I would sing you a song, except my husband is with me and it would make him feel uncomfortable. Truly, if I was alone, I would sing you a song in a minute.” (And why not? music is uplifting!)

“Did you want me to sing you a song?” he asked and oh my, but he had a twinkle in his eyes and there was a hint of a smile.

“Yes please, I’d like that.” I told him.

Then this most beautiful deep voice began singing , “Strangers In the Night” and I gasped at the charisma of his voice, the timbre, character and brilliance. His voice was exceptional and the song was a gift.

Soon husband and son came up alongside of us, but I never took my eyes off the man with magnificent voice. He continued with the song, and he had my absolute attention. I hoped my dear husband would understand you can’t just walk off in the middle of a gift.

When the man finished I felt so uplifted by his gift of song and sincerely I told him, “your voice is exquisite and you need to share it.”

“I did. I was an opera singer.”

“Oh you must continue to share this lovely voice with others”, I told him

“This I can no longer do,” he told me. “You see, I am ill and I can not be counted on for bookings. I never know when the illness will flare up”

Grateful I had been given a most special performance we said our good-byes. By now, I know my stepson was wondering what else could possibly happen on the sub way. He lived in Toronto and gave us all the rules about subway riding. Me, I was just a little hometown girl. As we rode back on the sub way again that night I found a seat beside a couple. I turned to them and said, “I know I am not supposed to talk to you.” “Why ever not?” the man asked.

“I am told people on the sub way do not want anyone to speak with them,” I explained, “but have you seen Crocodile Dundee?” I paused for them to remember this movie character then grinning I stuck out my hand, “ Hi my name is Ellie and I am from Alberta.” With that, they began to laugh as they took turns shaking my hand. As we chatted like old friends, a gentleman two seats away turned around to look at me. I could not read the look and puzzled over it. The couple soon had to leave and they said they were sorry to end the conversation but their stop was coming up. They turned again as they left smiling, waving, biding good-bye.

As soon as they were gone and the train pulled out again, the gentleman who had turned to look at me earlier got up and came over. Apologizing he said, “I could not help overhearing a bit of your conversation and…” We were all soon in conversation. He stepped off with us as we pulled into our station, speaking in an animated fashion. I could tell he was thrilled for the opportunity of having people to chat with on the ride. As we stood out on the platform he looked at us and said, “I want to sing a song for you.”

It was more of a question, and pleased to have two songs in one trip I responded with, “great.”

Then, with a most pleasant voice, he began to sing, and I gasped at the coincidence for his choice of songs was, “Strangers in the Night.”

Altering thought process

We, as human beings, can change our lives by altering our thinking process that reinforces the attitudes of mind towards the expectation that we envisage.

As we think, so we shall be. So flush out old, tired, worn-out thoughts. Let us fill our mind with fresh, new creative thoughts of faith, love, and goodness. By such process we can actually remake our life.

How do and where do we find such personality remaking thoughts?

I know a business executive, a modest man, but the type of individual who is never defeated. No problem, no set back, no opposition ever gets him down. He simply attacks each difficulty with an optimistic attitude and sure confidence that it will work out right, and in some strange way, it always does for him. He seems to have a magic touch on life - a touch that never fails.

Because of that impressive characteristic this man always interested me. I knew there was a definite explanation of his being this way and of course, wanted to hear his story. But in view of his modesty and antisocial behavior, it was not easy to persuade him to talk about himself.

One day, when he was in the mood, he told me his secret; an amazingly simple but effective secret. I was visiting his unit, a simple, up-to-date structure, much of it air-conditioned. Robust methods & systems equipped with well-maintained instruments comprising of various jigs and fixtures that produce the products in his shop with outstanding efficiency. Labor management relations seem as nearly perfect as is possible among imperfect human beings. A spirit of goodwill pervades the entire organization.

His office is also very simple but had an ultramodern decor and was furnished with handsome desks, rugs, and paneled with exotic woods.

Imagine my surprise to see on his highly polished desk an old battered copy of Bhagwat Gita and the Bible, along with many ethical books full of inspirational stories extracted from ancient great history.On seeing my surprise over those books he replied, "These books, along with Bhagwat Gita and the Bible are the most up-to-date things on this planet. Equipment warts out and furnishing styles change, but these books are so far ahead of us that they never become out of date."

He continued with his modest way of soft-spoken style.

"When I was studying in college, one day my mother gave me Bhagwat Gita and it so happen surprisingly. on the same day, one of my favorite teachers, who taught us physics, gifted me the Bible with the suggestion that if I would read and practice its teachings, I would learn how to get through life successfully. But I thought at my age, they both seemed old and to humor my mother and teacher, I took them. For years I never looked at them. I thought I didn't need them."

"Well," he continued with smile, "I was a dope and stupid, and got my life into a terrific mess. Everything went wrong primarily because I was wrong. I was thinking wrong, acting wrong, doing wrong. I succeeded at nothing, failed at everything. Now I realize that my practical trouble was wrong thinking. I was negative, resentful, smug, and opinionated. Nobody could tell me anything. I thought I knew everything. I was filled with gripes about everybody. Little wonder nobody liked me. I certainly was a 'wash-out'.

Days passed. One day while going through some papers, I came across the long forgotten books of ethical thoughts that were gifted to me, which brought up old memories and I started aimlessly to read them. Day and night without interruption I continued reading one after another and do you know, a strange thing happened.Just in a flashing moment of time, everything became different. As I was reading, many incidences that were described in these ethical and holy books leaped up at me and changed my life; I mean changed it. From the minute I read them everything has been different, tremendously different.

What is this wonderful thing that as a weapon killed all my misery?

Faith in me, through the power that I received in my thought process from the infinite intelligence, is the strength of my life and that gave birth to the confident me. I could not understand why this thing affected me so, but it did. I know that I was weak and negative; a defeatist. Something happened inside my mind. I guess I had what they call a 'spiritual experience'. My thought pattern shifted from negative to positive.

I decided to put faith in myself and sincerely do my best, trying to follow the principle of ethical thoughts that were outlined in these books. As I did so, I began to get hold of a new set of thoughts. In time, my old failure thoughts were flushed out by this new spiritual experience and an inflow of new thoughts emerged gradually by actually remaking me."

This is the story of a friend of mine: "a successful businessman". He altered his thinking. The new thoughts, which flowed in, displaced the old thoughts which had been defeating him and his life was changed.

This incident illustrates an important fact about human nature: you can think your way to failure and unhappiness but you can also think your way to success and happiness. The world in which we live is not primarily determined by outward conditions and circumstances, but by thoughts that habitually occupy our mind. We should remember the wise words of Marcus Aurelius, one of the great thinkers of antiquity, who said: "A man's life is what his thoughts make of it."

Playing a prank

A university student came out one day and went for a stroll with a professor whom the students considered a friend due to his kindliness for those who followed his instructions. While walking, they saw on the path a pair of old shoes and they assumed it belonged to an old man who worked in the neighboring field and who was near to finish his daily labour.

The student told the professor,"Let's play a prank on him. Let's hide his shoes and we hide ourselves behind those bushes to see his face when he cannot find them."

"My dear friend," said the professor. "we should never have fun at the expense of the poor. You are rich and can give a joy to this man. Place a coin in each shoe and then we hide to see how he reacts when he finds it."

That he did and both hid among the nearby bushes. The poor man finished his tasks and crossed the terrain searching for his shoes and coat. When he put on his coat he slid his foot in the shoe but when he felt something inside, he bent down to see what it was and found the coin. Flabbergasted he asked himself what could have happened. He watched the coin and watched it again. Then he looked around, to all sides, but did not see anybody. He put it in his pocket and put on the other shoe; his surprise was double when he found the other coin.

His feelings overwhelmed him. He fell on his knees and raised his sight to heaven pronouncing a fervent thankfulness in loud voice, speaking of his sick wife and without help and of his children that did not have food and that due to an unknown hand they would not starve to death.

The student was profoundly affected and his eyes welled with tears.

"Now ,"said the professor. "Aren't you more pleased than if you would have played a prank?"

The youth answered,"You have taught me a lesson that I will never forget. Now I understand something that before I did not: IT IS BETTER TO GIVE THAN TO RECEIVE."

3 Kernals of Corn - parable

Three young men were once given three kernels of corn apiece by a wise old sage, who admonished them to go out into the world, and use the corn to bring themselves good fortune.

The first young man put his three kernels of corn into a bowl of hot broth and ate them.

The second thought, I can do better than that, and he planted his three kernels of corn. Within a few months, he had three stalks of corn. He took the ears of corn from the stalks, boiled them, and had enough corn for three meals.

The third man said to himself, I can do better than that! He also planted his three kernels of corn, but when his three stalks of corn produced, he stripped one of the stalks and replanted all of the seeds in it, gave the second stalk of corn to a sweet maiden, and ate the third. His one full stalk's worth of replanted corn kernels gave him 200 stalks of corn! And the kernels of these he continued to replant, setting aside only a bare minimum to eat. He eventually planted a hundred acres of corn. With his fortune, he not only won the hand of the sweet maiden but purchased the land owned by the sweet maiden's father. And he never hungered again.

The more you give, the more you get. However, that should NOT be the reason for your giving. It is possible to give freely and become more wealthy, but those who are stingy will lose everything. The generous prosper and are satisfied; those who refresh others will themselves be refreshed.

Scuffed shoes

How many mothers make sure their children wear the correct sized shoes and modern style? They go to great lengths in instructing them not to scuff their new shoes or else there will be all hell to pay. Of course, the first day on, they go to school and come home with their shoes all scuffed up.

This leads to many shouting bouts, much anxiety and lots of aggravation for the devoted mum. Low and behold, before you know it, the little scamps have grown out of their shoes and they have to be discarded and thrown in the garbage (the shoes, not the kids).
 
In life, everything we hold onto will eventually be discarded. Even our bodies, no matter how well we look after them, will turn into dust and even the dust will fade into nothingness. So, why get all hot and bothered about anything that has a temporal nature. Yes, I can hear you say, “It's all-right for him to say that, but he does not have my worries.”

I doubt if there is one person on Earth who does not have to face daily challenges to their sanity and well-being. It is not the devastations and worries we need to deal with, it is how we deal with our own perspectives and viewpoints that make all the difference. And that can never be found in the mainstream intellectual reasoning of any human being, for to reason away one crisis and treat it with medication or surgery, will only bring about another unexpected desperate episode that stumps the wicket keeper.

The only way to keep playing the game and enjoying the results is to go out into the world and get your shoes all scuffed up. In other words, enjoy your life and when the wrinkles start to appear on your face, make sure they are laughter lines and don’t let cosmetic surgery cover up your happiness. Keep your mind and body healthy by recognizing the person you are, before your personality and ego was formed. Then act out your role-plays on Earth with the guidance of the universal wizard that exists behind the easily provoked, personality masquerade.

Enjoy your kids growing-up. Enjoy their wedding day. Enjoy your retirement and before you know it, you will be six feet under enjoying it as you turn to dust. I guess even then, some anxious souls will still be worrying and fussing trying to clean-up the dust in their coffin.

What is life all about ?

Life isn't about keeping score. It's not about how many friends you have. Or how many people call you. Or how accepted or unaccepted you are. Not about if you have plans this weekend. Or if you're alone. It isn't about who you're dating, who you use to date, how many people you've dated, or if you haven't been with anyone at all. It isn't about who you have kissed. It's not about sex. It isn't about who your family is or how much money they have. Or what kind of car you drive. Or where you're sent to school.

It's not about how beautiful or ugly you are. Or what clothes you wear, what shoes you have on, or what kind of music you listen to. It's not about if your hair is blonde, red, black, brown, or green. Or if your skin is too light or too dark.

It's not about what grades you get, how smart you are, how smart everyone else thinks you are, or how smart standardized tests say you are. Or if this teacher likes you, or if this guy/girl likes you. Or what clubs you're in, or how good you are at "your" sport. It's not about representing your whole being on a piece of paper and seeing who will "accept the written you".

But life is about who you love and who you hurt. It's about who you make happy or unhappy purposefully. It's about keeping or betraying trust. It's about friendship, used as sanctity, or as a weapon. It's about what you say and mean, maybe hurtful, maybe heartening. About starting rumors and contributing to petty gossip. It's about what judgments you pass and why. And who your judgments are spread to.

It's about who you've ignored with full control and intention. It's about jealousy, fear, pain, ignorance, and revenge. It's about carrying inner hate and love, letting it grow and spreading it.

But most of all, it's about using your life to touch or poison other people's hearts in such a way that could never occurred alone. Only you choose the way these hearts are affected and those choices are what life is all about.

Kiss someone before you go !!!

The subway train sways back and forth, its wheels screeching more fiendishly than ever against the tracks. Outside the window the freezing cold of winter rules and the dreary bay looks like a yawning abyss as the train rumbles across it. The carriage is filled with frozen self-centered, bored passengers. Good morning!

Suddenly a little boy pushes his way in between discourteous grown-up legs - the kind that only grudgingly make room for you. While his father stays by the door, the boy sits next to the window, surrounded by unfriendly, morning-weary adults. What a brave child, I think. As the train enters a tunnel, something totally unexpected and peculiar happens. The little boy slides down from his seat and puts his hand on my knee. For a moment, I think that he wants to go past me and return to his father, so I shift a bit. But instead of moving on, the boy leans forward and stretches his head up towards me. He wants to tell me something, I think. Kids! I bend down to listen to what he has to say. Wrong again! He kisses me softly on the cheek.

Then he returns to his seat, leans back and cheerfully starts looking out of the window. But I'm shocked. What happened? A kid kissing unknown grown-ups on the train? To my amazement, the kid proceeds to kiss all my neighbors.

Nervous and bewildered, we look questioningly at his father, "He's so happy to be alive," the father says. "He's been very sick."

The train stops and father and son get down and disappear into the crowd. The doors close. On my cheek I can still feel the child's kiss - a kiss that has triggered some soul-searching. How many grown-ups go around kissing each other from the sheer joy of being alive? How many even give much thought to the privilege of living? What would happen if we all just started being ourselves?

The little boy had given us a sweet but serious slap in the face: Don't let yourself die before your heart stops!

Watching Yu Ya

Watching Yu Ya is good, she is a well-known Taiwanese singer who happened to perform on the cruise i was being in. I can observe she have good personality. She is pretty, humorous, humble and she enjoyed singing as her way of life. I could see she enjoyed singing for us as much as we enjoyed listening to her. She started with a song or two then engaged conversation or talk with the audience before going on with the next song, perhaps that's one reason she doesn't feel bored singing day to day. Maybe the idea of even being bored is far from her mind. After all, being able to make people smile, happy and have a very good day even for only one day is something that is very rewarding for oneself to do, unless that person takes such priviledge just for granted. As what the wise understand, happiness is only real when shared.

Nobody steps in the same river, a greek wise philosopher said. Not only that 'same' river have change, but we who come across it might also been another person already. One who has learned how to make the most of the natural laws and able to see things from bigger perspective, will see that change is beautiful, but those who choose to see it with lower perspective might see that change is a burden and annoyance.

Yu Ya started off from being ordinary person like us. Only when a composer-musician guy noticed her that she climb and climb so high that she's titled 4 best taiwanese singers. Her flower has bloomed now, while on those time she was just a flower petal. She succeed, not merely because of her singing skills, but rather on how she is capable of distributing and reaching to a lot of people about her singing skill. Even at her own era of glory, there are no doubt that there are some people who can sing better than her, the difference is whether that particular person keep the skill to himself/herself or share it with the world just like what Yu Ya does.

There may be whole lots of people who can actually write better than J.K.Rowling, or expose conspiracies much better through fiction than Dan Brown, but only a portion of few who brings out the talent for the world to see. Just like before the Colombus, there were actually some tribes such as the Vikings who found it far long before Colombus, but Colombus was the one who brought the message out the world, therefore his name was the one most celebrated for the event. Similar thing too in the world of inventions and pioneering, it's about who brings out and introduce the invention to the world, rather than who and who and who was capable of inventing such feat.

So if you possess a certain talent or any capabilities that excells from others, as long as you never bring it out to the world to see, you'll never worth as much if you do. I am talented as a philosopher and i am a thinker myself. Without me ever expressing my thoughts, i would be as worthless as anyone who walks in the streets.

Therefore, share it and it will duplicates! One duplicate is from you to others, and the other duplicates is for yourself. You reward others and reward yourself at the same time! Trust in the law of giving and receiving that governs our world in perfect mutual reward and completion. But remember, if keep any talent/blessings to yourself, the talent/blessings would not grow and would not duplicates itself, it will just be as it is, no progress, no growth, unless it is shared. Therefore share it!

Watching the rice grow faster

There once was a farmer who wanted his rice plants to grow quickly. He thought over it day and night. However, his rice plants were growing slower than he expected it to be instead.

One day, he thought of a way out. He pulled out several inch of all his rice plants. Although he was very tired after doing it all to his rice plants the whole day, he felt very pleased as his rice fields had seemed to grow taller.

Hearing the story, his son immediately went to the field to check the rice plants. Unfortunately, he was too late, for all its leaves had became spoiled.

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Be patient, everything has its own time of progression. Be too hasty or too slacking would just disrupt its natural flow.

Just one Miracle.

"Boy, I could really use a miracle right now!" he said.

I was having breakfast at a local restaurant when I overheard two men talking.

I thought about how many times I've said that. It then lead me to this question:

"What if God gave me one miracle?"

Not one that I asked for, but one that was given to me to do what I wanted.

One miracle that could change the world.

One miracle that could save lives.

One miracle that could bring joy into the lives of people all around me.

One miracle that could comfort the sick, heal a broken heart, empower others to rise above their own challenges.

One miracle that could... go ahead name it.

What if you woke up one day and this revelation came to you that you held the power of using one miracle to impact the world in such a unique way as to leave a lasting and forever impression?

Think about the weight of that idea. Think about what it would be like to know that you held that power and you had to decide what you were going to do with it.

Think about what it would be like if others knew you had that miracle at hand. Would you feel a sense of urgency to do something with it or would you just sit by and wait until the opportunities faded or your time ran out?

What about your obligation to God?

Above all else, beyond what others might expect, don't you think that if God gave you that miracle that you would make it a priority in your life to use it in such a way as to please Him?

Well, my friend, this isn't some foolish idea. This isn't some ethical question in a college course. It is indeed reality.

YOU are that miracle created, born with great expectations and given unto the world as the miracle of life. You are capable of all those things and obligated by faith to use this miracle.

Wake up to this reality. Step up to the challenge.

Live up to expectations.

Be the miracle!