Unclear Journal: 5

Twenty-nine. This life of ours is a tremendous gift. What would really have happened if we hadn’t been alive? If we accept that we live by the Creator’s grace, then this thought also comes with it: none of us is so indispensable to the world that our absence would bring about an apocalypse, requiring us to be kept alive. So many people die every day, for reasons and without reason, yet we are not on that list of the dead. Therefore, the very fact that we are wonderfully alive and well—this itself is a source of great joy and wonder. Our entire life is a bonus! Whatever we get, however little we get, it’s all extra gain! How many people are dying of hunger, while we’re alive eating at least two handfuls of stale rice; how many spend the night under the open sky, while we’ve been blessed with at least a humble cottage; how many unfortunate souls have no clothes on their bodies, while we have at least one old, faded garment on ours. When we stand by the roadside eating a samosa, have we ever noticed how many boys in torn, dirty clothes stand waiting in hope of picking up the leftover bits? Have we ever inquired about how many people, tormented by hunger, live behind dustbin walls, competing with dogs and cats for survival? Despite enduring such hardship to keep their souls anchored in their bodies, smiles still bloom on their faces. What infinite suffering do we have that we’ve forgotten how to smile altogether? We are alive, our bellies aren’t empty, no disease has made its home in our bodies that we cannot afford to cure, our nights don’t end in the terror of death—truly, we’re quite well indeed! Where merely being alive is an event of supreme good fortune, how well the Creator has kept us! How much has been given to us! Imagine that! We haven’t become disabled, our eyes haven’t gone blind, our faces haven’t been disfigured in any accident, and yet we say life is empty because there’s no love? Where does such audacity to show such luxury come from? Death is a very simple matter. Think about it—yesterday evening, the father who, after finishing work and buying five apples within his meager means for his four-and-a-half-year-old little darling who waited eagerly for him, lost his life in a sudden bomb attack on his way home—what greater sin had he committed compared to you and me that gave him the proper opportunity to make full use of it? Why should the apple that was meant to be smeared with his child’s joy instead roll around on the street, covered in his fresh blood from his chest? We’re none of us well, are we? Bravo! What bullshit, being unwell! If blood still flows through our bodies, then let us do justice to that blood by thanking the Creator, by offering our gratitude! There is no greater gift than being alive. During this time of being alive, whatever we achieve cannot make us happy if we cannot touch some people’s lives, if we cannot give them the discovery of joy, if we cannot become drenched in their love. If we can somehow light the lamp of our soul, it becomes possible to keep ourselves free from all those impulses that push us into darkness. Pulling oneself out of the deep abyss of sleep is a very great challenge. Everyone wants to remain in that abyss for eternity. The work of awakening is not easy. Both the struggle to keep oneself away from the irresistible attraction of remaining asleep and the discipline of breaking free from the chains of bad habits are great acts of worship. What is happening to me in my life now? Why is it happening? Was it supposed to happen like this?

These thoughts cloud our present and make us dwell in the past. Better to think this way: my present is the outcome of what I did or thought in the past. Had I not acted then as I did, I surely would not have to go through this present experience. If I dislike my present, I can do two things: First, I will not do anything now that might fill my future with regret. Second, I will do something now that helps transform my present reality to my liking. Ignorance and devotion to prejudice do not let our consciousness awaken. To awaken, I must first dream of where I want to reach. Then, to get there, I must first forget what I have learned, and second, learn what I need to learn. One might wonder: then is there no value in all that I struggled so hard to learn over these years? The answer is simple. Had I not learned all this, how would this realization have been born in me: that I am not living the life I want to live? Philosophy of life originates and develops not from life’s fulfillment, but from its futility. At the root of all great creation lies not joy, but sorrow. Without living in palaces, how can one realize the peaceful comfort of a dilapidated, worn-out hut in a forest hermitage’s serene sanctuary? Our entire life is one vast dream. Just as dreams fade away, so do the gains and losses of our lives. The world we inhabit at any given moment is not the final world. We shall encounter other worlds, and as long as we live, we shall continue to encounter them. We must remember that my world is not the only habitable world. To become entangled in attachment to the present world means deciding to deprive ourselves of enjoying the riches of all other worlds. But yes, not everyone is born to live in the same world. Each person’s world is different. To speak more clearly: each world is actually composed of several worlds. That is, I am born to live not only in the world where I currently exist, but in several other similarly created worlds. The capacity needed to journey to those next worlds exists within me, though it lies dormant. My task is to prepare myself to cross the subsequent stages of life. These stages are essentially the worlds that await me. Each person’s stages are different. Therefore, the worlds reserved for me are not like the worlds reserved for another. No arrangement of the world is superior, none is inferior. Each lives according to their arrangement. As far as we take life, our position and achievement within our arrangement will extend that far. If I do not awaken myself, if I remain blinded by complacency with my current state and present world, I will deprive myself of all the beauty and riches of all future worlds. This is a kind of sin; such complacency represents my indifference and detachment toward fulfilling the responsibility the Creator gave me when sending me to this world. The path we walk, the path the Creator has given us the opportunity to walk—we must complete the work of walking this path as beautifully as possible, to the extent of our capabilities.

At the end of one path, another path begins before our very eyes. In this way, one path after another keeps opening up before us. There is no grammar for how to walk on which path, no easy shortcut. One must create one’s own map of paths according to one’s capacity, opportunity, preference, and convenience, and move forward accordingly. The more paths one can walk, the more beautiful and meaningful one can make one’s life.

Thirty. What is the capacity of our heart? How much suffering can the heart hold with ease? Why does an ocean of infinite sorrow keep raising waves in this small heart? The truth is this: as much as we can see of the entire world in our imagination, exactly that much suffering we can hold in our hearts. As far as our thoughts extend, so far spreads the boundary of our pain. We can hold as much suffering as we can love. When we love someone or something, we hold that person’s, object’s, or idea’s existence in our heart with supreme tenderness, sincerity, and love. Love kindles light in our hearts, and in that light we see ourselves. If ever it happens that we can no longer see ourselves in that light, that some darkness has come and covered everything, then we call that darkness sorrow. Our hearts are made in such a way that as much light as can be kept there, exactly that much darkness can be kept there too. When the heart becomes shrouded in darkness, unconsciously the heart begins searching for other light. A heart without love never receives light. Therefore, to live in light, one must first make the heart worthy of love. Our work, our thoughts, our achievements, our knowledge—all these together shape our hearts into vessels of love. With the heart’s love, one can touch the sky. When one manages to touch that sky, the spring of joy that flows through the mind originates from infinite sorrow. The harvest of happiness in the heart is cultivated through sorrow. Neither constant happiness nor constant sorrow occurs in this world. The only way to increase the boundary of enjoying happiness is to spread happiness among everyone within one’s means. The only way to decrease the boundary of suffering is to embrace sorrow as one’s own and, through continuously striking and burning oneself, to search for a way of liberation from sorrow and act according to that way. To live beautifully in this world, one must make oneself beautiful. What does beautiful mean? Whom do we call the most beautiful people? Those whose external beauty catches our eye when we see them? No. The most beautiful are those whose company, whose conversation, whose heart’s wealth touches us intensely. Those whose companionship gives us peace, gives us trust, gives us joy—they are beautiful. Beautiful are those with whom, after talking for hours upon hours, conversation never ends, and we feel we could talk with them for several more lifetimes, stay close to them. Someone once asked Imam Jafar al-Sadiq, “Could the Creator, if He wished, place the entire world inside an egg without reducing the world’s size or increasing the egg’s size?” He replied, “Look around you! What do you see?” The answer came, “Sky, mountains, trees, forests.” “Just as you can place all these vast things in your tiny pupil, so too could the Creator place this entire vast world inside a small egg.” Both the vastness and minuteness of the heart are beyond our imagination. To use the heart’s power, two things are needed: patience and sacrifice. Let suffering come, let poverty come, let despair come, let brutality come, let injustice come, let blows come. Our hearts have the capacity to hold all of this. What we want to become, how we want to remain—love for that must be awakened through patience and sacrifice. Only then will the intensity of circumstances no longer overwhelm us.

When I cast my eyes upon the outer world, I feel myself more insignificant than a single drop in an infinite ocean. But when I close both eyes and behold the world within myself, this realization awakens—as if the entire world is slowly taking birth like a beautiful bubble from the vast ocean of my heart, a world whose every aspect of development lies completely within my control. Within each of us dwells the Creator. When the illusions, enchantments, and delusions of the external world blind us, we can no longer float in the great ocean of the heart. Blindness and ignorance keep us distant from that inexhaustible wellspring of love, peace, blessings, joy, solace, and power. When our soul unites with our consciousness, miracles begin to unfold within us and around us; the connection between inner and outer floods us with bliss and tranquility.

Thirty-one. Our ego is merely an expression of our fear. Fear of what? Fear of our weaknesses being exposed, fear of losing to another’s character and capabilities. When doubt takes over the place of love, that is when ego’s dominance begins. In ego’s game, love retreats, sincerity diminishes, and a fierce stubbornness to feed self-satisfaction and pride dismisses all practical wisdom and considerations of what is beneficial, reigning supreme within the mind. Even with those at breathing distance, light-year distances are created. When a person assumes that only what they think is right, that everyone else is wrong in their knowledge and thinking, then the narrowness of knowledge creates a kind of arrogance within them. A child was sitting by the seashore, digging a small hole in the sand to collect all the ocean’s water. A knowledge-intoxicated person asked the child, “You fool! How will you fit all the ocean’s water in this tiny hole?” The child replied, “O wise one! Then how do you believe that in your small head you have contained all the world’s knowledge?” A father gave his son some money and said, “Go pay the electricity bill.” The son had a great passion for cars. Instead of paying the electricity bill with that money, he bought a lottery ticket for a new brand car raffle and returned home. He believed he would surely win the new car. When he told his father upon returning home, his father gave him quite a thrashing. The next day. The father woke up and upon opening the house door, saw a brand new car in front of the house! Infinite amazement surrounded the father! He couldn’t believe his own eyes! In great excitement, the father called out to his son! There was still more to be amazed about. The new car belonged to the electricity department, and that very day the car had been brought out onto the roads for the first time to disconnect electricity connections of those with unpaid bills. Needless to say, the poor dreamy boy received another round of thrashing as his lottery prize. When we nurture our ego, when we sit with our ego, we assume that by some magic everything will work out, circumstances will turn in our favor. The boy believed he would miraculously win the lottery’s first prize. Although the father didn’t believe it, still seeing the car in front of the house, his heart said, “This wealth is mine! This wealth is mine!” Yet the poor boy got beaten again. The first beating for the crime of buying the lottery, the second beating for the crime of not winning the lottery. Doesn’t the father’s anger about something not happening—which he had assumed wouldn’t happen—exceed the son’s foolishness? Coincidental events rarely occur. Ego’s victory is also such a coincidental event. The victory belongs to the ego, its owner faces defeat, yet the owner thinks they have won. Ego arises from external perspective. Living in ego means guiding the mind based on what can be seen with open eyes, what can be understood in broad strokes. What the eye sees, the mouth speaks. The eye’s job is to create story after story based on external sight. Just as our eyes are the windows of knowledge, our soul is the window of understanding. Where the eye’s vision ends, the soul’s vision begins. The eye sees the beauty of the outer world, that beauty surrounded by joy, and the soul can see the beauty of the inner world, that beauty forged through suffering. In the night sky, the eye can see only the light of the stars.

The soul continues searching for the fierce light of the sun—not the light found in starshine, but that light which has kept darkness concealed, the path that leads into diving deep into that very darkness. Human eyes never lie, yet humans craftily lie through the deception of their eyes. When the language of the eyes becomes hidden, the language of the mouth comes forward. Then it becomes easy to be misled. Better than this is to look toward another’s heart through the eyes of one’s own heart. What the eyes imagine in dreams, the heart can see with clarity. To make room within itself for the unknown and the unfamiliar, the heart continuously breaks itself apart. All knowledge, all conditioning, all ego, all achievements, all education—everything that keeps the heart’s door sealed—when these move away, the heart’s door opens. Through that open door, a mysterious light enters the heart, resulting in the soul’s liberation from bondage. To place sherbet in a glass, one must pour out the wine and clean the glass thoroughly. Otherwise, there will be no room to place the sherbet in the glass, and even if there is, the sherbet will take on the characteristics of wine. One who is intoxicated with wine’s taste can no longer find the taste of sherbet. Similarly, to make room for holding a new philosophy, the old philosophy must be expelled from the heart. The heart’s play of breaking and rebuilding is thus another name for removing darkness and invoking light.

Thirty-two. We are drawn to those with beautiful faces, with lovely skin, wanting to pull them close and keep ourselves near them. But does being close to someone beautiful truly mean living without anxiety, worry, or fear? Does misfortune ever consider a person’s appearance before arriving? Can those who are beautiful somehow keep themselves free from suffering? Attracted to someone’s outward beauty, I befriend them without knowing their crude mind or criminal tendencies, and then one day I too must bear the punishment for their sins or foolishness. This too can happen, can’t it? Though we may not share in a friend’s virtue, we often must endure the consequences of their transgressions. Danger and misfortune spare not even the most beautiful person by a single inch. Rather, physical beauty often places a person directly in harm’s way. The Charyapada teaches: “The deer is enemy to its own flesh.” Just as the deer becomes the hunter’s prize because of its tender meat, so too do people of beautiful face and form easily become everyone’s enemy. Those who are not beautiful find it hard to tolerate the beautiful. This is how it has always been. Those who are enemies to beauty are also enemies to beauty’s friends. Rather than becoming slaves to outer beauty, if we live as devotees of inner beauty, whether or not we have someone’s physical presence, we can live peacefully dwelling close to their heart. The chains of slavery blind us, while the touch of devotion awakens our divinity. The sorrow that makes us weep—if we look at it with inner vision, we will see that within that sorrow lies hidden a spring of ineffable joy. The song that enchants us owes its power less to its words than to its melody. It is melody that gives birth to love even for songs in unknown languages. Similarly, if the heart floats on melody, then whether joy or sorrow comes to the heart, the heart continues to play in beautiful tune. Small or great, visible or invisible, pleasure or pain, attainment or loss, success or failure—none of these opposites is trivial enough to dismiss. Sometimes we see that even sorrow, riding on melody, fills the heart with joy. If we could ever find even a drop of that vast spring of joy that flows eternally in our hearts, then no worldly sorrow could overwhelm us anymore. We would easily accept sorrow and merge it smiling into that stream of joy. One who has found the world within the heart no longer runs about thirsting for the intoxication of the outer world’s colors. To truly receive beauty’s appeal, one must look at beauty with a child’s heart. Because children are innocent, they become enchanted by beauty so easily, while others cannot bathe in beauty’s ocean with such ease. The more beauty becomes burdened with explanation and analysis, the more it loses its appeal. To dive into the heart’s boundless beauty, one must be simple, innocent, straightforward. The more worldly wisdom one possesses, the farther one moves from beauty. Along with worldly achievement, the heart’s wealth diminishes. When the heart becomes weighed down by earthly calculations, the stream of divine light no longer washes the heart clean, and infinite darkness begins its reign there.

Thirty-three. With each new friendship, a new world is born within us. When a friend enters our life, a new space is created in our heart for them—a space with its own rules, customs, and nature, different from all other spaces in the heart. When two souls merge into one, when two separate worlds unite, when different equations of love and happiness become unified, when the feelings of joy and sorrow in two hearts mysteriously become identical—then the bond of friendship is born. By this measure, the most fragile friendship in the world is Facebook friendship. In the maze of likes, comments, shares, and chats, the emotions and feelings of the heart tremble in false resonance all around. A true friend is one whose presence always gives birth to wonderful memories. Without expecting any return, a friend always stands by their friend’s side. Whether or not they share in happiness, they kindle light in the darkness of sorrow. We often mistake acquaintances for friends, and wrongly reduce friends to mere acquaintances. One may have many acquaintances, but friends are only a handful. When someone believes their true friends outnumber the fingers on their hand, surely they are making an error somewhere. Friends are not that numerous; precious things are always few in quantity. The language of friendship is rooted not in words but in meaning. Just as a tree gives shade and soothes the soul, friendship too provides carefree, peaceful, safe shelter. The lesson of friendship is not taught in schools and colleges; it is a lesson that must be learned in life’s classroom, and without this lesson, all other lessons become meaningless. Friendship with someone develops only when we can accept them exactly as they are, whether good or bad. When a friend is in trouble, it is the friend who comes forward first. In times of crisis, people call upon God and their friends. In moments of despair, friends come close and kindle the light of hope. A good friend and a good person are not the same thing. Someone may be a good person but not necessarily a good friend. The reverse is also true. Friends will have faults, flaws, and imperfections, but despite everything, a friend remains a friend. Those who search for perfect friends end up with no friends in their lives. No social position, qualification, wealth, or influence can be an indicator of friendship. This is why childhood friendships generally never break. Because in childhood, friendships are not formed through self-interest or calculation. Childhood friendships develop through the union of soul with soul. Such friendship is true friendship, lasting a lifetime. A person who fails in worldly life may reach the pinnacle of success as a friend. When the sky scatters pearls, covers the roads, when heaps of pearls lie scattered in lanes and alleys; when dreams come knocking at the door, awakening intoxication in the soul; when silence plays in the dust of the path; when in the vast forest’s stillness, in the boundless desert’s expanse, evening descends and night peeks through—then floating in the festival of stars, the lover asks in infinite wonder: who remains alone in such happiness? What joy is there in receiving such wealth in solitude? On what island have I become bound? In continuous happiness, in the procession of isolated death, what liberation is there from this false gesture of immortality? In what riddle of life does peace come in the evident stream of happiness? Such doubts touch the heart of the beauty-thirsting wayfarer’s helplessness, moving the friend’s heart intensely.

A star descends from the sky, and one by one the bonds of the soul fall away. This star draws near and whispers: why do you think so much? Your friend is there beside you! To share in your joy, to take upon themselves a portion of your sorrow—though no one else may be there, your friend is! Close your eyes and look into the mirror of your heart; when the soul’s shadow falls upon that mirror, all the knots of mystery begin to unravel one by one. The moment friendship’s call resounds in the heart, two souls become one, and the wellspring of joy and pain reveals itself as indivisible. In such moments, the power of friendship defeats all claims of love and demands of affection, establishing unity of heart. That person is truly a friend who neither accepts nor rejects a friend through reasoning, who knows only this much: that a friend must be embraced with the heart, that one must stand beside a friend rising above all argument and debate—a friend’s good means one’s own good, a friend’s bad means one’s own bad, a friend’s happiness is one’s own happiness, a friend’s sorrow one’s own sorrow. Yet it is true that the one for whom I am a devoted friend may not be as much of a friend to me. That friendship brings the greatest happiness, peace, and solace in which both can give their very lives for the sake of friendship. Friendship is no burden to be carried about. Friendship is that power which makes all burdens light. Whatever I need, the moment that need is felt, a friend provides its answer—friendship is such a priceless gift. Friendship knows not how to expect; friendship knows only how to give selflessly. The sole reward of friendship is love, joy, peace. One need not be anyone special to have friendship; friendship itself makes a person someone special. We come into this world utterly ordinary; friendship enriches us, adorns us with treasures, keeps us alive.

Thirty-four. When the light of one’s true being emerges from within and floods all darkness with luminosity, surpassing every other light, the intensity of one’s own existence gives birth to a sudden terror. When everything is lost, when one’s inner world crumbles completely, when all strength vanishes somewhere, when all externalities are destroyed and only the soul remains with itself—precisely then that eternal being blazes forth, spreads light, shows the way. From that source of light comes courage; that inexhaustible fountain clears all obscurities from the dark path and reveals the true direction. Our heart is the light of this world. The intensity of this light burns us with fire’s heat, purifies us. What we must do, how we should live, what is right or wrong for us, how to fulfill our duties and responsibilities without curtailing others’ rights or wounding their feelings, how to claim what is rightfully ours—all such teaching and initiation comes from this light. To illumine oneself in such light requires a degree of madness; if we lack even an iota of it, we need rehabilitation. The absence of madness within oneself is the greatest mental illness. When life defeats us in a hundred gambles, preparing to lose the hundred-and-first with complete readiness and hurling a challenge back at life—this is immersion in the heart’s light. When even the final arrow pierces the chest, mentally preparing oneself to receive yet more arrows—this is life. When the weary, exhausted body seeks rest, surrendering oneself with fresh vigor to serve endangered humanity—this strength is radiance. The whistle that even a wooden horse can hear and wants to chase—sounding that whistle when needed is true courage. We never have the patience and time to sit quietly and listen to what the Creator tells us, what He wishes us to understand; consequently, all our prayers settle on our lips and never reach the Creator. In trying to see the dazzling color of what we love, whom we love, we return ourselves colored by it. The hundred layers of veils before our eyes that obscure our vision prevent us from seeing that beloved’s true color. Anger, hatred, greed, envy, pride—such instincts deposit thick layers of dust and mud upon our souls. Our fear is not that we are weak. Our fear is that we carry within ourselves such immeasurable power that it surpasses all measurement. This vastness of power could destroy us at any moment—all our terror centers on this apprehension. The soul’s light disturbs us a thousand times more than the heart’s darkness ever could. Light is always unbearable to those unworthy of it. Whenever we kindle our soul’s light, we awaken everyone around us to the same consciousness; they too, scorning all adversities, problems, and thorns, become radiant with the same glory. One must learn the magic of facing all of life’s sighs and regrets, must have the firmness to choose the path of struggle when necessary, the courage to stand before truth with an open heart is life’s provision, before doing anything one must prepare oneself to bear the consequences, heavenly bliss or hellish torment—both are received before death. Accustoming oneself to all these realizations is called honesty or candor.

The punishment for our sins or rewards for our good deeds—both are constants in our lives. The cruelty, barbarism, injustice, selfishness, falsehood, and deception of failed, violent fools—all these are merely ways of testing our mental strength. Life becomes meaningful only through accepting this truth with a dispassionate heart. Each of us is nothing more than an embodiment of love. Divinity will manifest within us only when our souls become filled with love, peace, purity, and compassion. When the heart is filled with love, hatred, anger, envy, ego, and fear can never consume us. When love is spread, the Creator’s grace radiates everywhere, and all beings around us become bathed in love’s stream of compassion, bringing peace and welfare to the world. When infinite loneliness or profound darkness seeks to consume our existence, if only the light of our inner being would show us the way, we would never remain helpless in fear of losing our path. The moment sorrow engulfs us, this realization must take deep root within us: since we have already found the thorn of the rose, we shall very soon reach the rose itself. How few are blessed with such fortune? We see only the darkness before us when the intense light of our own being blinds us. If dwelling in darkness is our destiny, then no matter how much light may come, the realm of darkness will be our final destination. But if light is the sole companion of our existence, then this darkness, this illusion, this disguise of sorrow—all are temporary, and will pass away at one time or another. What is there to fear? What conflict? What hesitation? We are exactly where we ought to be. What we did yesterday, we are experiencing its consequences today; what we do today, we shall experience its consequences tomorrow. What we experience, or do not experience—the control lies in our own hands. Why all this worry? What happens beyond this is fate, and who has power over fate? Then why this lived anxiety?

Thirty-five. You must sleep your own sleep, you must wake your own waking. If you don’t wish to wake, no one has the power to wake you; if you don’t wish to sleep, no one has the power to force you to sleep. When walking, having someone alongside makes the effort much easier. But if you find a walking companion who won’t let you walk at all, then walking alone is the better path. Those who wish us well or are our predecessors can at best show us the way, but we must do the walking on that path ourselves. No one will walk our walk for us, no one will shape our destiny for us, no one will suffer our pain for us. If we want to enjoy happiness alone, then what sense is there in desperately seeking someone to share our sorrows? To do any work properly in life requires proper planning. Yet how much does our life really follow our plans? The man who had organized all his plans to work with orphaned children suddenly died of cancer. What does this mean? Life moves according to the Creator’s plan, where we have very little to do. Yes, what we can do is this: if we remain alive, and if the path we had decided to walk ever gets lost, we can create new paths suited to our convenience. The work is undoubtedly challenging, difficult, laborious—but certainly not impossible. A blocked straight road doesn’t mean there are no more roads; it means we must take the winding path. Often it happens that we convince ourselves—there is no road, or we have lost the road, or the road is so far away that reaching it in time is impossible, or we will never find the road again; yet where we stand is itself the right road, which we never knew. Finding the right thing requires knowing how to see. In life’s gamble there are two ways to win: either find the road, or create your own road. However it’s done, we must move forward, we must never stop. Dust, fog, storms—like mirages they keep our path hidden from us. If we can change our way of seeing and understanding, all obstacles and riddles will disappear and we will find the simple path. Our most beautiful dream has no road leading to it, because perhaps no one has yet reached that dream; in this case, wherever we place our feet becomes our road. The path by which we walk and reach our exact destination—people will call that path the road. From the day we came into this world, we have had to walk alone. Perhaps unknowingly or ignorantly we spend our lives in disguised joy, mistaking darkness for light, or we live so much with reality that it keeps us in tremendous anguish. We mistake momentary sorrow or joy for permanent, we take apprehensions and possibilities as fixed and sit detached, indifferent, emotionless. In life’s everyday journey, deciding whom to take as companion is an extremely difficult and audacious task. The greatest tragedy of living in this world is this: to live in this beautiful world, we have been given only one single life. We must live our own life ourselves. There is no manual for living life, there is no point in making some leader or great soul an idol and trying to live our life like theirs.

Each person must cultivate their own soil; each terrain has its own hardness and composition, and there is no universal rule for how to make the land suitable for cultivation. Then one must listen to the voice of the heart. When the heart’s door remains open, it becomes easier both to embrace what is necessary and to reject what is unnecessary. Only one’s own heart knows which path will lead to fewer regrets in life. Even if someone reaches the wrong destination by following their heart’s counsel, there is still less regret than otherwise. Learning from one’s own mistakes teaches more than making decisions based on others’ wisdom. The joy and pride of reaching a cottage by walking one’s own path far exceed arriving at a palace by following another’s route.

When we find a companion for the journey of life, the fatigue of walking diminishes considerably. Not because the companion shares part of the walking burden, but because having someone beside us gives courage to the mind, makes the distance seem shorter, and increases mental strength. However, if walking alongside someone makes the path itself a burden, it is far better to walk alone than with such company.

Whether Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Buddhist, Jain, or Sikh—all who walk the path of truth share fundamentally the same religion. Their paths of walking may differ, but their aim and destination are identical. Truth strings all people on the same thread; people divide only through the enchanting snares of falsehood.

When the mind becomes clean by removing all debris, joy comes to the mind, and the gentle breeze of comfort and peace guides the mind toward the right path.

My goal belongs to me alone; the way I wish to reach that goal is precisely how no one else will want to reach it. When I attempt to reach that goal, I may find many around me who are also trying to reach the same destination as I am. My effort will be of no use to them, just as their efforts will be of no use to me. My suffering is perhaps the suffering of many others too. They may endure the same suffering alongside me, but I must bear my suffering, and they will bear theirs. No one else’s suffering will diminish my suffering in any way.

The heaven I live dreaming of obtaining may be attained by many others, but I must earn my own heaven. Someone else might dig my grave, but I alone must accept the peace or unrest of that grave. Those with whom I mingle to turn my world into hell—when hell’s fire blazes up, they too may burn in the same inferno as I do, but I alone must endure the agony of my burning.

Many will live alongside me in my life, whether that manner of living be good or bad, but I alone must do the work of my living. When I suffer pain, fall ill, face danger, remain dejected, when my heart grows heavy, feels weary, feels helpless—then looking at those around me, I think they too sympathize with my pain, share in it; but in truth they are merely witnessing my pain with their eyes and trying to imagine its intensity in their own hearts. The actual sensation of pain—no one can experience this, whether father, mother, brother, sister, husband, or wife. However much they may claim to feel my pain, they are actually feeling pain at seeing the pain I am experiencing.

You cannot truly experience the pain you are not going through yourself—at best, you can approximate its true nature, but never actually feel it. Every kind of pain is always a distinct, personal sensation. Therefore, if we take the word ’empathetic’ in its literal sense, it becomes meaningless and redundant.