[AdvaitaToZen] you will laugh at your past efforts - Ramana

[Guest guest]

Hi Jan,

You find this passage so meaningful because 'that day'

has dawn for you; for one still waiting for that day,

this passage is meaningless.

 

Suppose, many years from now, you have a bout of

senility and while at home you start screaming: " Where

am I? I need to go home. " You head for the door and

one of your daughters stop you and tell you. " Dad,

you're home. " But since your memory is gone, these

words are meaningless to you because your house

doesn't look

like home to you. What looks real is the fear you are

not home, and the urge to find it.

 

A wiser elder daughter, then steps in and says to you,

" Ok, Dad, I'll take you home. " He grabs you by

the hand, takes you for a walk around the block and

brings you home again. Seeing your house as you come

from the street jars your memory, and you recognize it

as home. What happiness, what peace!

 

The walk around the block was useless, and yet, it was

exactly what you needed.

 

Pete

--- Jan Sultan <swork wrote:

> At 04.01.03-09:44 AM Jan Sultan wrote:

> > " There is no greater mystery than the following:

> Ourselves being the

> >Reality, we seek to gain reality. We think there is

> something hiding

> >our Reality, and that it must be destroyed before

> the Reality is

> >gained. That is ridiculous. A day will dawn when

> you will yourself

> >laugh at your past efforts. That which will be on

> the day you laugh

> >is also here and now. "

> >

> >Ramana

> >

> >

> >AdvaitaToZen

>

> This is one of the most significant sayings of

> Ramana.

>

> Jan

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

Very well put, Pete. Thanks.

 

What I wanted to emphasize was this sentence:

 

" That which will be on the day you laugh is ALSO here and now. "

 

Love

Jan

 

At 04.01.03-07:10 PM pete seesaw wrote:

>Hi Jan,

>You find this passage so meaningful because 'that day'

>has dawn for you; for one still waiting for that day,

>this passage is meaningless.

>

>Suppose, many years from now, you have a bout of

>senility and while at home you start screaming: " Where

>am I? I need to go home. " You head for the door and

>one of your daughters stop you and tell you. " Dad,

>you're home. " But since your memory is gone, these

>words are meaningless to you because your house

>doesn't look

>like home to you. What looks real is the fear you are

>not home, and the urge to find it.

>

>A wiser elder daughter, then steps in and says to you,

> " Ok, Dad, I'll take you home. " He grabs you by

>the hand, takes you for a walk around the block and

>brings you home again. Seeing your house as you come

>from the street jars your memory, and you recognize it

>as home. What happiness, what peace!

>

>The walk around the block was useless, and yet, it was

>exactly what you needed.

>

>Pete