Personal Story

It’s a hot, sultry evening. The sun’s warm rays, basking the earth all day, has left a comfortable blanket covering the front lawn.

The moon is new, and the darkness that swept in with the outgoing sun provides a perfect background for a laser light show.

How peaceful and utterly void of light is your yard. It’s dark, and you’re enjoying the tranquility that accompanies absolute stillness.

What’s that? Hey what was that?

Out of the corner of your eye, you think you saw a flash of light.

There it is again!

A few years ago, while hiking through the Mount Ascutney Mountains in Vermont, I found myself absolutely mesmerized by the stunning beauty of the deciduous pine forest. In particular, my eyes were being pulled towards the pinecones. Kind of like a magnet, I was attracted to the pinecones.

They densely garnished the tall pines. They came from all sizes, from two inches, up to seven, and perhaps more. They were everywhere, on the floor, on the branches. And the hues changed from light, pale green, to a royal forest green, to a hazel, to dark brown.

Just as an ace of spade trumps the king of spades, knowing trumps knowledge.

An intelligent person does not care much about information and knowledge. An intelligent person cares much more for the capacity to know.

His or her interest is in knowing, not just knowledge. Knowing gives you understanding, where knowledge gives one a feeling of understanding, without giving you real understanding.

I like to sit in my back yard, and listen to the great composers: Vivaldi’s “Flute Concerto #2”, the solo flutist, and Giuseppe Verdi’s “La Traviata”, the duel between Violetta and Alfredo. And Beethoven’s “Moonlight Serenade”, that single solo piano.

The sounds of the orchestra, the flutes, the piccolos, the French horns, the bassoons, the clarinets, the oboes, the violas, the cellos, the trumpet, each instrument is beautiful music to my ear. Perhaps you like this too.

When you see a glass of water, filled halfway, what do you say? Is it half full or is it half empty?

Does your outlook on life lean more one way than the other? Do you perceive possibilities as half complete or half uncomplete? Now you may say that these are truly opposite sides of the same coin, but are they really?

When something is half complete, is that more positive than saying it’s uncomplete? But stop for a minute, step back, and take another look at that glass.

What is it about a rainbow that conjures such positive, joyful thoughts?

It seems that everyone loves a rainbow. Poems are written. Smiles cross faces when the word rainbow is seen. There are so many expressions: catch a rainbow, the other side of a rainbow, ride the rainbow, chase a rainbow, find your rainbow.

Men search for the treasure pot at the end of the rainbow. So I ask you, “Is there a treasure?” Perhaps the treasure in rainbows is “eating a rainbow.” “What,” you may ask, “am I talking about?” I’m talking about starting every day eating the colors of the rainbow.

Have you ever noticed someone going about, whistling as they’re going about their business?

Perhaps at the grocery store, the mall, the gas station, or even at your work?

They go about whistling and seem to be in the state of mind of contentness, or perhaps as if they are floating on a cloud.

If you catch their eye for a glimpse, just a moment, they seem to be in a very pleasant state. They never seem to be angry or upset or in a sullen mood.


You also notice this with children. The children just open up and start to sing, beautiful songs.

Intelligence is the capacity to be in the present moment. The more you live in the past or the future, the less intelligent you are.

You ever notice when you’re talking to someone, and they’re not really paying attention, and you ask them what they’re thinking, they’re probably thinking about something they’re going to do tomorrow, or something they did yesterday. But they’re not in the moment, and they’re not really paying
attention to you.

No man can reveal to you anything but that which already lies half-asleep in the dawning of your knowledge.

The teacher who walks in the shadow of the temple, among his followers, gives not of his wisdom, but rather of his faith and his lovingness. If he is indeed wise, he does not bid you enter the house of his wisdom, but rather, he leads you to the threshold of your own mind.

The astronomer may speak to you of his understanding of space, but he cannot give you his understanding.