Ancient Wisdom

Once upon a moonlit night, in a forgotten corner of existence, there lived a moth. This moth was unlike any other—a creature drawn to the flame, its delicate wings fluttering in pursuit of the ethereal light. The flame, a beacon of warmth and illumination, held an irresistible allure for the moth. It danced closer, its fragile body quivering with anticipation. As the moth drew near, the flame consumed it. The moth surrendered willingly, knowing that its destiny was to be transformed. In that fiery embrace, it transcended its earthly form, becoming something more—a whisper of light, a memory etched into the fabric of the universe. Across the meadow, another story unfolded. An ant, diligent and tireless, laboured amidst the sugar-heap. The sweet crystals clung to its tiny legs, and the ant toiled day and night, collecting sustenance for its colony. But there was a secret—the ant harboured a longing. It yearned for the open sky, the vastness beyond the granules of sugar. Yet duty bound it...

In the sun-drenched grove, an Olive-tree stood proud, its leaves a perpetual green. Beside it, the Fig-tree danced with the seasons, shedding its foliage in a delicate waltz. The Olive, evergreen and unyielding, mocked its neighbour’s transient attire. One fateful day, a shower of snow descended, blanketing both trees. The Olive, its branches laden with leaves, bore the weight stoically. But the snow, relentless, broke its limbs, stripping it of its beauty and life. Across the way, the Fig-tree stood bare, its branches stark against the white canvas. The snow, finding no purchase, fell through to the ground, leaving the Fig unscathed. And so, the Olive learned a harsh truth: Adaptability, not stubbornness, ensures survival. The Fig, with its seasonal shifts, thrived—its leaves fleeting but resilient. In the dance of nature, it was the Fig that whispered wisdom to the wind, while the Olive lay broken, a monument to rigidity.

'Mulla Nasrudin' supervised the building of his own tomb. At last, after one shortcoming after another had been righted, the mason came for his money. 'It is not right yet, builder,' said Mulla to builder. 'Whatever more can be done with it?' inquired the builder.  'We still have to supply the body' replied the Mulla .

Avoid the mean person, but do not make him your personal enemy; get close to the gentleman, but do not always say "Yes" to him. -The Wisdom Of China by Michael Joseph