Odilia Carmen Chirica

The Emperor of China sent ambassadors to a hermit living in the northern mountains. They were to invite him to become Prime Minister of the Kingdom.  After many days of travel the ambassadors arrived. The hermitage was empty! But nearby in the middle of a river was a half-naked man, seated on a rock, fishing with a line. Could this be the man the Emperor thought so highly of? Enquires at the village proved it was. So they returned to the river bank and, as respectfully as they could, attempted to attract the fisherman’s attention.  The hermit waded through the river and stood before the messengers barefoot, arms akimbo. “What is it you want?”  “Honoured sir. His Majesty the Emperor of China, having heard of your wisdom and your holiness has sent us with these gifts. He invites you to accept the post of Prime Minister of the Realm.”  “Prime Minister of the Realm?”  “Yes, respected Sir.”  “Me?”  “Yes, respected sir.”  “Is His Majesty out of his mind...

"The mystic was back from the desert. “Tell us,” they said, “what God is like.” But how could he ever tell them what he had experienced in his heart? Can God be put into words? He finally gave them a formula — inaccurate, inadequate—in the hope that some might be tempted to experience it for themselves. They seized upon the formula. They made it a sacred text. They imposed it on others as a holy belief. They went to great pains to spread it in foreign lands. Some even gave their lives for if. The mystic was sad. It might have been better if he had said nothing." from the book  "Song Of The Bird"  by  Anthony de Mello ...in truth,  OdiliaCarmen

"Nasruddin was in a philosophical frame of mind: “Life and Death—who can say what they are?” His wife looked up from her cooking and said, “You men ore all alike— unpractical. Anyone can fell that when a man’s extremities are rigid and cold, he is dead.” Nasruddin was impressed by his wife’s efficient wisdom. One day he was out in the snow when his hands and feet went numb. “I must be dead,” he thought. Then came a further thought: “If I am dead, what am I doing walking about? I should be lying down like a normal corpse.” Which is exactly what he did. An hour later, a group of traveller’s, finding him by the roadside; fell to arguing among themselves about whether he was dead or alive. Nasruddin yearned to cry out, “Fools, can’t you see my extremities are rigid and cold?” But he knew better than to say that, for corpses do not talk. They finally concluded he was dead and put him on their shoulders to take him to the cemetery. They hadn’t gone a mile when they came to a forking of ...

"The Master was asked, “What is Spirituality?”  He said, “Spirituality is that which succeeds in bringing one to Inner Transformation.”  “But if I apply the traditional methods handed down by the Masters, is that not Spirituality?”  “It is not Spirituality if it does not perform its function for you. A blanket is no longer a blanket if it does not keep you warm.”  “So Spirituality does change?”  “People change and needs change. So what was Spirituality once is Spirituality no more. What generally goes under the name of Spirituality is merely the record of past methods.”  Don’t cut the person to fit the coat." from the book  "Song Of The Bird"  by  Anthony de Mello ...in truth,  OdiliaCarmen

"A relative came to visit Nasruddin bringing a duck as a gift. So the bird was cooked and eaten.  Soon a stream of guests began to call, each claiming to be a friend of the friend of the ‘man who brought you the duck.’ Each one, of course, expected to be fed and housed on the strength of that hapless bird.  The Mulla bore it manfully till the day a stranger arrived and said: “I am a friend of the friend of the kinsman who brought you the duck.” And, like the others, he sat down, expecting to be fed.  Nasruddin placed a bowl of steaming water under his nose. “What’s this?” asked the stranger. “This,” said the Mulla “is the soup of the soup of the duck that was brought to me by your friend.”  One hears of people who became the disciples of the disciples of someone who experienced the Divine. How can you transmit a kiss through a messenger?" from the book  "Song Of The Bird"  by  Anthony de Mello ...in truth,  OdiliaCarmen

"No Zen student would presume to teach others till he had lived with his Master for a minimum of ten years.  Tenno, having completed his ten years of apprenticeship, acquired the rank of teacher.  One day he went to visit the Master Nan-in. It was a rainy day, so Tenno wore wooden clogs and carried an umbrella.  When he walked in, Nan-in greeted him with, “You left your wooden clogs and umbrella on the porch didn’t you? Tell me, did you place your umbrella on the right side of the clogs or on the left?” Tenno was embarrassed, for he did not know the answer. He realized he lacked Awareness. So he became Nan-in’s student and laboured for ten more years to acquire Continual Awareness.  The person who is ceaselessly aware: the person who is totally there each moment: behold the Master!" from the book  "Song Of The Bird"  by  Anthony de Mello ...in truth,  OdiliaCarmen

"An elephant was enjoying a dip in a Jungle pool when a rat came up to insist that he get out.  “I won’t,” said the elephant.  “I insist you get out this minute,” said the rat.  “Why?”  “I shall tell you that only after you are out of the pool.”  “Then I won’t get out.”  But he finally lumbered out of the pool, stood in front of the rat and said, “Now then, why did you want me to get out of the pool?”  “To check if you were wearing my swimming trunks,” said the rat.  An elephant will sooner fit into the trunks of a rat than God into our notions of him." from the book  "Song Of The Bird"  by  Anthony de Mello ...in truth,  OdiliaCarmen