Cracked Pot

December 14, 1999

A Cracked Pot

A water bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on each end of a pole

which he carried across his neck.

One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and

always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from

the stream to the masters house. The cracked pot arrived only half full.

For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only

one and a half pots full of water in his master's house. Of course, the

perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments. But the poor cracked pot was

ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to

accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.

After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to

the water bearer one day by the stream.

"I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologise to you."

"Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?"

"I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load

because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to

your master's house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work,

and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said.

The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion

he said, "As we return to the master's house, I want you to notice the

beautiful flowers along the path."

Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the

sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this

cheered it some. But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it

had leaked out half its load, and so again the pot apologised to the bearer

for its failure.

The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on

your side of your path, but not on the other pot's side?

That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of

it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we

walk back from the stream, you've watered them. For two years I have been

able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master's table. Without

you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his

house."

Know that in our weakness we find our strength.

Love and Light

~ cracked pot of gold at the end of the Rainbo ~ *g*

December 14, 1999

What a lovely story, Rainbo. Thank you! I was born very hard of hearing, as

were my brother and sister. This was the source of much social embarrassment

and hidden shame when I was growing up -- some of us children want so

desparately to be perfect. But I know now that deafness made a sculptor out

of my sister, a scientist out of my brother and a therapist out of me. When

I met my current husband several years ago, I picked him out of a large

crowd, knowing immediately he was "the one," because he wore hearing aids

like I do. I believe our fault-lines are entry ways to God. Love, Holly

December 14, 1999

Hello,

I will keep this wonderful story in my cracked mind as I walk through my

day.

Thank you.

Linda

>>>>>>A Cracked Pot

A water bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on each end of a pole

which he carried across his neck.

One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and

always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from

the stream to the masters house. The cracked pot arrived only half full.

For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only

one and a half pots full of water in his master's house. Of course, the

perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments. But the poor cracked pot was

ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to

accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.

After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to

the water bearer one day by the stream.

"I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologise to you."

"Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?"

"I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load

because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to

your master's house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work,

and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said.

The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion

he said, "As we return to the master's house, I want you to notice the

beautiful flowers along the path."

Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the

sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this

cheered it some. But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it

had leaked out half its load, and so again the pot apologised to the bearer

for its failure.

The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on

your side of your path, but not on the other pot's side?

That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of

it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we

walk back from the stream, you've watered them. For two years I have been

able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master's table. Without

you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his

house."

Know that in our weakness we find our strength.

Love and Light

~ cracked pot of gold at the end of the Rainbo ~ *g*

All paths go somewhere. No path goes nowhere. Paths, places, sights,

perceptions, and indeed all experiences arise from and exist in and subside

back into the Space of Awareness. Like waves rising are not different than

the ocean, all things arising from Awareness are of the nature of Awareness.

Awareness does not come and go but is always Present. It is Home. Home is

where the Heart Is. Jnanis know the Heart to be the Finality of Eternal

Being. A true devotee relishes in the Truth of Self-Knowledge, spontaneously

arising from within into It Self. Welcome all to a.

December 16, 1999