"Holy Man" — Alok Jagawat
Word spread across the countryside about the wise Holy Man who lived in a small house atop the mountain. A man from the village decided to make the long and difficult journey to visit him. When he arrived at the house, he saw an old servant inside.
"Man Of Tao" — Author Unknown
A student once asked, "What is the difference between a Man of Tao and a little man?"
The Zen Master replied, "It is simple. When the little man becomes a student, he can hardly wait to run home and shout at the top of his voice to tell everyone.
“Poet” by Keith Basar
Throughout human history, conscious or not, we humans are relentlessly drawn towards the magnetism of Holy Love. Of course, this Love could be echoed as truth, life, purpose and so forth. Throughout the ages wisdom texts and homilies have uttered it, stars have glistened it, the winds have harmonized it — combining every life element into an aspiring, insatiable longing to be one with perfect Love.
FORCE by Deng Ming Dao
A sword is never sheathed
Until it has tasted blood.
A good swordsman
Is seldom seen with a sword.
“Aikido Surprise” by Terry Dobson
A major turning point in my life came as an unexpected surprise one day in the middle of a quiet spring afternoon on a sleepy train in the suburbs of Tokyo.
It all started as the old train car was clanking and rattling over the rails. It was comparatively empty – a few housewives with their kids in tow, some old folks out shopping, a couple off-duty bartenders casually glancing through the sports section of the local newspaper. I was gazing absently at the drab houses and dusty hedgerows.
Then as the doors opened at one unremarkable station, the calm afternoon was suddenly shattered. A man on the platform bellowed at the top of his lungs, yelling violent, obscene, incomprehensible curses. Just before the doors closed, the still yelling man staggered into our car.
“Richard Seltzer tells this story of love”
Yale University surgeon named Richard Seltzer. Richard Seltzer tells this story of love.
“I stand by the bed where a young woman lies, her face post operative, her mouth twisted and palsy clownish. A tiny twig of the facial nerve, the one to the muscles of her mouth has been severed. She will be thus from now on. The surgeon had followed, with religious fervor, the curve of her flesh. I promise you that. Nevertheless, to remove the tumor from her cheek I had to cut the little nerve