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Winds are blowing you

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Excerpt from Soul Stories by Gary Zukav

 

The Buddhists say there are eight winds. They are gain and loss,

praise and ridicule, credit and blame, and suffering and joy. If you aren't

aware of them, they will blow you away like leaves in an autumn breeze. For

example, when someone praises you, and that tastes sweet, like candy in your

mouth, you are being blown away by the wind of praise.

One day in ancient China, a young man thought he had become

enlightened. He wrote a poem to his master about how he was not blown by

the eight winds. Then he sent it to his master who lived three hundred

miles up the Yangtze River.

When his master read the poem, he wrote "Fart, Fart" on the bottom

and sent it back.

The more the young man read those words, the more upset he got. At

last he decided to visit his master. In those days, a three-hundred-mile

trip up the Yangtze River was a very difficult journey.

As soon as he arrived, he went straight to his master's temple.

"Why did you write this?" he asked, bowing. "Doesn't this poem show that I

am no longer blown about by the eight winds?"

"You say that you are no longer blown by the eight winds," replied

the master, "but two little farts blew you all the way up here."

What winds are blowing you?

 

Robert

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Loved it Robert! Thank you for the humor (:-).

 

Love

Harsha

 

 

Skyeryder [skyeryder]

Friday, October 06, 2000 12:14 PM

 

Winds are blowing you

 

 

Excerpt from Soul Stories by Gary Zukav

 

The Buddhists say there are eight winds. They are gain and loss,

praise and ridicule, credit and blame, and suffering and joy. If you aren't

aware of them, they will blow you away like leaves in an autumn breeze. For

example, when someone praises you, and that tastes sweet, like candy in your

mouth, you are being blown away by the wind of praise.

One day in ancient China, a young man thought he had become

enlightened. He wrote a poem to his master about how he was not blown by

the eight winds. Then he sent it to his master who lived three hundred

miles up the Yangtze River.

When his master read the poem, he wrote "Fart, Fart" on the bottom

and sent it back.

The more the young man read those words, the more upset he got. At

last he decided to visit his master. In those days, a three-hundred-mile

trip up the Yangtze River was a very difficult journey.

As soon as he arrived, he went straight to his master's temple.

"Why did you write this?" he asked, bowing. "Doesn't this poem show that I

am no longer blown about by the eight winds?"

"You say that you are no longer blown by the eight winds," replied

the master, "but two little farts blew you all the way up here."

What winds are blowing you?

 

Robert

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