Ancient Wisdom

  Once upon a time, in the heart of a dense forest, there stood a majestic Mountain Oak. Its towering presence was a testament to its years of endurance and strength. One day, a woodcutter ventured into the forest, his eyes set on the mighty oak. With a swift, determined swing of his axe, he began his task. The Mountain Oak, a silent observer of the forest’s tales, found itself at the mercy of the woodcutter’s axe. The woodcutter, to ease his task, cleverly crafted wedges from the oak’s own branches. He used these to split the trunk, saving himself considerable effort. The Mountain Oak, though stoic and resilient, couldn’t help but sigh at this sight. “The strikes of the axe at my root, I can bear,” it whispered to the wind, “for such is the fate of all trees. But the agony of being torn apart by wedges hewn from my own branches is a sorrow far greater.” And so, the tale of the Mountain Oak serves as a poignant reminder. Misfortunes that spring from ourselves are often the hardest ...

The purpose of this short essay is to educate our readers about the value and importance of stories so that they can take it seriously and interpret it in their own context as a learning tool.   Idress Shah has written in his book, "Special illumination, The Sufi Use of Humour" a story, perhaps apocryphal, said to be told in Japan.  An American tourist is being shown around a shrine; he and his guide come to a light burning on a kind of altar. "That flame" quavers the aged Oriental custodian, "has been burning for a thousand years..." The American leans over and blows it out. "Well, it's stopped now, hasn't it?" Idress Shah said that I have shared this tale in different countries. When the tourist is British, the application is that he scorns the whole thing; when it is a Frenchmman , that he feels himself superior; when it is American, that he is insensitive.  He said that last time I mentioned this fact is rather august company. I was t...

  A tailor was cutting a suit for his customer. He turned the piece of cloth over and over for a long time without being able to bring himself to use the scissors. The apprentice boy finally asked him why he hesitated, and the answer was, "If I cut something out for him there could be nothing for me, if I cut something for me there would be nothing for him."

  ' Nasrudin's wife ran to his room when she heard a tremendous thump. 'Nothing to worry about,' said the Mulla, 'it was only my cloak which fell to the ground.' 'What, and made a noise like that?' 'Yes, I was inside it at the same time.'