The divine feminine

 Look around and you will find the woman, a representative of the divine feminine, is the stronger and superior force. Her gently flowing spirit, like cool waters, assuages the fire in man, the rugged representative of divine masculinity. She carefully douses the male fire. The burning volcano in him loses its flame. Yin energy, the pliable, soft, surrendering, receptive and yielding polarity of creation, unfailingly conquers yang, the hard knots standing at the rigid polarity on the other end. Holy waters are yin. Earth and stones are yang. The majestic serpentine curves of rivers are yin, the divinefemale. Its softness has the tightest grip. It wins and triumphs over solid most and hardest rocks. Mountains give in. A gentle stream slowly, imperceptibly wears and corrodes a mammoth mountain and writes its victorious tales in majestic valleys. Accept it O thou poor man, accept! Fire has to go; water has to flow!

The real lies

 The lies that we tell others are just a fraction of the lies which we tell to our own selves. Self-told lies are our fog spray that we sprinkle to keep the sun of truth in our soul hidden and allow us to embrace our pretending, fake self, our ego. All this feeds on the lies that we continuously tell ourselves.

Opening the secret of duality

 If you want to swim, accept drowning. If you want to fly, accept falling. To win, accept loss. To fulfillment, accept emptiness. The duality is bound by an unbreakable cord. Pull one, and the other one comes dragging. A win is not a win completely. You are losing something also, in some form or the other. No flight is a flight solely. It involves a fall also here and there. Swimming isn’t floating only. It involves intervals of drowning also. Accept the so called opposite, antipodal, the perceived enemy and the threat. Don’t run away from it. Success is not the absence of defeat. It’s only accepting defeat, learning further and moving on. Accept death and you live. Surrender and master the ownership of your thoughts, actions and emotions.

The real cowards

 The urge to dominate, the ambition of power, the desire for prestige, these are all driven not by strength, but by some inherent weakness, fragility, fear and imperfection. There is an inherent imperfection which drives grossly selfish acts. Stalin had very short legs in comparison to his upper body. When he sat on a chair, he looked damn funny as his legs fell short of the ground. We need not insult humanity anymore by even retelling the atrocities he perpetrated on his own people. Changez Khan won half of the world and slaughtered countless innocent human beings. He was so insecure of his death and mortality that he went on rampage to forcibly plant his biological seed across Asia. By an estimate, almost 8% of the Mongoloid people draw their genetic line from him. But even this large scale cropping won’t give him peace and security. He was so scared of his death that fearing some sabotage he never slept at nights. He just went paranoid and one night ran out of his tent, tripped, fell on an iron peg and died like a stray dog dies accidently.

The sage and the king

 There is an old ascetic staying very happily under a banyan. No material possessions, almost naked and no desires. The force of his wisdom is spreading far and wide. The King gets so impressed that he touches the saint’s feet and overcome by huge pangs of reverence for the sage asks the old mendicant to come and stay in his palace. He is sure that the ascetic is going to say a loud “no”. But then very surprisingly the old sage says “yes”. So it becomes a big news and the King is even feeling duped. The old friar comes to stay in the palace. In irritation the King is pouring more and more worldly comforts around the mendicant who never shows any unwillingness to roll over more and more in comfort. The sage is accepting all the worldly facilities on offer. The King’s agitation is turning into burning jealousy day by day. He starts condemning the sage as an impostor who has now forgotten all his wisdom after staying in the palace. The King’s anger reaches a breaking point and he condemns him as a disgrace in the name of monkhood and banishes him from the luxurious palace. Nothing changes in the old monk. He smiles and says, “Ok King, as you wish! I was just fulfilling your wish to offer me luxury.” Smilingly the old sage prepares to leave the King with a blessing and a little sermon:

“I stayed in your palace but your palace didn’t stay in me. I am not a lake, I’m a mountain. I enjoy the water falling all over me, cutting my sides, kissing the trees on my slopes. But I am not possessive to hold the waters back. I simply allow it to flow down. I don’t hold. I don’t pull back. I just let it be as it is supposed to be. The lake is hollow. It craves for fullness. It wants more and more water. It has to hold. It has to collect. It is attached to collection. But the water will in any way flow away. So there is pain at the exit. Hence it’s forever looking upland for more and more water. I allow the flow, so enjoy the process, the mix of past, present and future. The lake holds. It suffers. It hardly enjoys its present, its being.”