Harinam and Healing Heart Center
Healer, Teacher, Yogi
“Any man who creates environments to show clarity about the causes and effects of the Creator—beauty and bounty in this world—gets merged into infinity.” Yogi Bhajan
Meditation: NM0415 – 20010910 – Karma & Dharma
Leadership has failed out of blind obstinacy. We cannot fix what has happened. We must take things into our own hands to do what we can to set things on a right path and never allow this to happen again.
“If a man misses the right time for return, he meets with misfortune. The misfortune has its inner cause in a wrong attitude toward the world. The misfortune coming upon him from without results from this wrong attitude. What is pictured here is blind obstinacy and the judgement that is visited upon it.”
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Meditation: LA724-920328 Reorganize Your Head, Be Positive, Lose Your Inherited Anger
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“We have to understand the basic fundamental existence of ours—to understand the spirit. Once you understand the spirit you are all right.” Yogi Bhajan
Meditation: NM0415 – 20010910 – Karma & Dharma
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We must sit and wait for the evil to devour the good completely before it consumes itself. The consciousness that gave it birth and sustained it will then depleted and exhausted and there will be justice.
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We are here to serve and to help each other. Our service comes from inner conviction. As such, we are graced with the great power and resources to accomplish our intentions.
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Meditation: NM0336 – For Inner Strength
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“When the one-pointed, infinite beam of the mind starts sending the signal into the infinity and the infinity relates to the finite, the unit becomes united and this is called the highest stage of the yogic mind.” Yogi Bhajan
Meditation: LA935-980608- Connect the subconscious and intuition2018
Be aware of your influence on others. Know the impact of your words. Use your communications wisely for positive results.
Meditation: NM0364-20001023-On Communication I
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“The Creator created the creature to realize the state of the stability, the finite of the infinity.” Yogi Bhajan
The world is being overwhelmed by the spread of the virus. Immediate, drastic measures must be taken to mitigate the spread. Stagnation is imminent. The crux of the matter is this:
Nine in the third place means:
The ridgepole sags to the breaking point.
Misfortune.
This indicates a type of man who in times of preponderance of the great insists on pushing ahead. He accepts no advice from others, and therefore they in turn are not willing to lend him support. Because of this the burden grows, until the structure of things bends or breaks. Plunging willfully ahead in times of danger only hastens the catastrophe.
See Today: March 29
Do not adopt urgent measures halfway. You must must mitigate the danger immediately.
Meditation: KWTC19950725 Meditation to Balance the Tattvas
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“Any man who creates environments to show clarity about the causes and effects of the Creator—beauty and bounty in this world—gets merged into infinity.” Yogi Bhajan
“We have to understand the basic fundamental existence of ours—to understand the spirit. Once you understand the spirit you are all right.” Yogi Bhajan
Think about it. When enough people are presented with opportunity, there are many who do not ignore it. Under the right circumstances, they cannot ignore it. Statistically, this tends to cause a shift in whatever macro dynamics are in play.
An obvious case is the question of the implementation of Keynsian Economic Theory. It was used, with impressive effects, to pull the world out of the great depression. FDR was a skeptic of investing in “something for nothing”, but his gamble in creating the WPA paid off big time. What really did the trick was the “forced” government investment in the war machine in the late 1930’s. The tragedy of WWII also led to the greatest period of prosperity in modern history. Investment in war is always questionable. Investment in manufacturing infrastructure worked beautifully.
The “gilded age” of the 1920’s yielded to the “golden age” which lasted into the 1970’s.
It’s simple. During the depression, what everyone wanted, and needed, was a job. The WPA filled that need. During WWII, all the stops were pulled, with seismic economic results. it seems that when money is flowing, people cannot resist spending it, which is a direct stimulus to growth and prosperity. Fear subsides and the economy soars. Of course, it’s not a trivial problem. Too much spending beyond growth can cause inflation, as was witnessed with “stagflation” in the 1970’s.
Rather than adopting sane fiscal safeguards against inflation, which are known to the Keynsian Economic model, President Reagan chose to reintroduce fear into the equation with his “trickle down” proposition, which has been a persistent impediment to economic growth to this day. “Trickle down” is not a theory, it is a voodoo trick intended to persuade people to believe that the monied interests will take care of everybody. Just ask yourself which is more likely: Will more people spend more money when they have more money without the fear of being destitute, or will wealthy people invest more of their wealth to build something for everyone’s benefit? The former makes no assumptions. It’s a fact, proven by history.
The latter is loaded with assumptions:
Wealthy people are philanthropic – some of them are
Big business is willing to put its wealth at risk without the assurances of a monopolistic sure thing – its stockpile of trillions of dollars shows otherwise. Most recent investments have only gobbled up smaller enterprises and reduced competition, indicating one goal – a consolidation of wealth into fewer more powerful interests. More cash in their pockets won’t change this.
President Reagan weaponized fear, and its legacy has been adopted by all of his followers and apologists.
We were privileged to see the Keynsian model at work again when President Obama and Congress passed the Recovery Act in 2009. Its only problem is that it was an anemic gesture that should have been ten times bigger. Of course, there was enormous opposition by the usual suspects. It saved the world economy, but did not set us on a path to prosperity. FDR experienced the same problem with his initial efforts to save the world from the depression. It took the the War to seal the deal.
Other examples of public policy that have led to overall prosperity:
Mandatory free public education (mandatory that it must be offered) includes an enormous talent pool whose education has led to unprecedented achievement in all possible ways. Science, technology, arts, global relief from disease and other suffering and even diplomacy that has trumped tribal instincts. Imagine a world where only Trumps are educated (54% of Republicans think that college education is a bad thing for the nation)
Investment in the humanities. Where would we be without our culture and entertainment? (No philharmonic, no Spiderman?)
Veterans Administration and the GI bill: the only real compensation given to veterans for their sacrifice.
NASA:Today’s private space enterprise and our private lives owe a debt to public policy (JFK’s moonshot, velcro).
What is common to all public policy is that everyone contributes to it, and everyone is the beneficiary.
ONCE upon a time, not a thousand miles from here, there lived a poor old wood-cutter, who was a widower, and his little daughter. He used to go every day into the mountains to cut firewood which he brought home and tied into bundles. Then he used to have breakfast and walk into the nearest town, where he would sell his wood and rest for a time before returning home.
One day, when he got home very late, the girl said to him: ‘Father, I sometimes wish that we would have some nicer food, and more and different kinds of things to eat.’
‘Very well, my child,’ said the old man, ‘tomorrow I shall get up much earlier than I usually do. I shall go further into the mountains where there is more wood, and I shall bring back a much larger quantity than usual. I will get home earlier and I will be able to bundle the wood sooner, and I will go into town and sell it so that we can have more money and I shall bring you back all kinds of nice things to eat.’
The next morning the wood-cutter rose before dawn and went into the mountains. He worked very hard cutting wood and trimming it and made it into a huge bundle which he carried on his back to his little house.
When he got home, it was still very early. He put his load of wood down, and knocked on the door, saying, ‘Daughter, Daughter, open the door, for I am hungry and thirsty and I need a meal before I go to market.’
But the door was locked. The wood-cutter was so tired that he lay down and was soon fast asleep beside his bundle. The little girl, having forgotten all about their conversation the night before, was fast asleep in bed. When he woke up a few hours later, the sun was high. The wood-cutter knocked at the door again and again and said, ‘Daughter, Daughter, come quickly; I must have a little food and go to market to sell the wood; for it is already much later than my usual time of starting.’
But, having forgotten all about the conversation the night before, the little girl had meanwhile got up, tidied the house, and gone out for a walk. She had locked the door assuming in her forgetfulness that her father was still in the town.
So the wood-cutter thought to himself, ‘It is now rather late to go into the town. I will therefore return to the mountains and cut another bundle of wood, which I will bring home, and tomorrow I will take a double load to market.’
All that day the old man toiled in the mountains cutting wood and shaping the branches. When he got home with the wood on his shoulders, it was evening.
He put down his burden behind the house, knocked on the door and said, ‘Daughter, Daughter, open the door for I am tired and I have eaten nothing all the day. I have a double bundle of wood which I hope to take to market tomorrow. Tonight I must sleep well so that I will be strong.’
But there was no answer, for the little girl when she came home had felt very sleepy, and had made a meal for herself, and gone to bed. She had been rather worried at first that her father was not at home, but she decided that he must have arranged to stay in the town overnight.
Once again the wood-cutter, finding that he could not get into the house, tired, hungry and thirsty, lay down by his bundles of wood and fell fast asleep. He could not keep awake, although he was fearful for what might have happened to the little girl.
Now the wood-cutter, because he was so cold and hungry and tired, woke up very, very early the next morning: before it was even light.
He sat up, and looked around, but he could not see anything. And then a strange thing happened. The wood-cutter thought he heard a voice saying: ‘Hurry, hurry! Leave your wood and come this way. If you need enough, and you want little enough, you shall have delicious food.’
The wood-cutter stood up and walked in the direction of the voice. And he walked and he walked; but he found nothing.
By now he was colder and hungrier and more tired than ever, and he was lost. He had been full of hope, but that did not seem to have helped him. Now he felt sad, and he wanted to cry. But he realized that crying would not help him either, so he lay down and fell asleep.
Quite soon he woke up again. It was too cold, and he was too hungry, to sleep. So he decided to tell himself, as if in a story, everything that had happened to him since his little daughter had first said that she wanted a different kind of food.
As soon as he had finished his story, he thought he heard another voice, saying, somewhere above him, out of the dawn, ‘Old man, what are you doing sitting there?’
‘I am telling myself my own story,’ said the wood-cutter.
‘And what is that?’ said the voice.
The old man repeated his tale. ‘Very well,’ said the voice. And then the voice told the old wood-cutter to close his eyes and to mount as it were, a step. ‘But I do not see any step,’ said the old man. ‘Never mind, but do as I say,’ said the voice.
The old man did as he was told. As soon as he had closed his eyes he found that he was standing up and as he raised his right foot he felt that there was something like a step under it. He started to ascend what seemed to be a staircase. Suddenly the whole flight of steps started to move, very fast, and the voice said, ‘Do not open your eyes until I tell you to do so.’
In a very short time, the voice told the old man to open his eyes. When he did he found that he was in a place which looked rather like a desert, with the sun beating down on him. He was surrounded by masses and masses of pebbles; pebbles of all colours: red, green, blue and white. But he seemed to be alone. He looked all around him, and could not see anyone, but the voice started to speak again.
‘Take up as many of these stones as you can,’ said the voice, ‘Then close your eyes, and walk down the steps once more.’
The wood-cutter did as he was told, and he found himself, when he opened his eyes again at the voice’s bidding, standing before the door of his own house.
He knocked at the door and his little daughter answered it. She asked him where he had been, and he told her, although she could hardly understand what he was saying, it all sounded so confusing.
They went into the house, and the little girl and her father shared the last food which they had, which was a handful of dried dates. When they had finished, the old man thought that he heard the voice speaking to him again, a voice just like the other one which had told him to climb the stairs.
The voice said, ‘Although you may not know it yet, you have been saved by Mushkil Gusha. Remember that Mushkil Gusha is always here. Make sure that every Thursday night you eat some dates and give some to any needy person, and tell the story of Mushkil Gusha. Or give a gift in the name of Mushkil Gusha to someone who will help the needy. Make sure that the story of Mushkil Gusha is never, never forgotten. If you do this, and if this is done by those to whom you tell the story, the people who are in real need will always find their way.’
The wood-cutter put all the stones which he had brought back from the desert in a corner of his little house. They looked very much like ordinary stones, and he did not know what to do with them.
The next day he took his two enormous bundles of wood to the market, and sold them easily for a high price. When he got home he took his daughter all sort of delicious kinds of food, which she had never tasted before. And when they had eaten it, the old wood-cutter said, ‘Now I am going to tell you the whole story of Mushkil Gusha. Mushkil Gusha is the remover of all difficulties. Our difficulties have been removed through Mushkil Gusha and we must always remember it.’
For nearly a week after that the old man carried on as usual. He went into the mountains, brought back wood, had a meal, took the wood to market and sold it. He always found a buyer without difficulty.
Now the next Thursday came, and, as it is the way of men, the wood-cutter forgot to repeat the tale of Mushkil Gusha.
Late that evening, in the house of the wood-cutter’s neighbours, the fire had gone out. The neighbourshad nothing with which to re-light the fire, and they went to the house of the wood-cutter. They said, ‘Neighbour, neighbour, please give us a light from those wonderful lamps of yours which we see shining through the window.’
‘What lamps?’ said the wood-cutter.
‘Come outside,’ said the neighbours, ‘and see what we mean.’
So the wood-cutter went outside and then he saw, sure enough, all kinds of brilliant lights shining through the window from the inside.
He went back to the house, and saw that the light was streaming from the pile of pebbles which he had put in the corner. But the rays of light were cold, and it was not possible to use them to light a fire. So he went out to the neighbours and said, ‘Neighbours, I am sorry, but I have no fire.’ And he banged the door in their faces. They were annoyed and confused, and went back to their house, muttering. They leave our story here.
The wood-cutter and his daughter quickly covered up the brilliant lights with every piece of cloth they could find, for fear that anyone would see what a treasure they had. The next morning, when they uncovered the stones, they discovered that they were precious, luminous gems.
They took the jewels, one by one, to neighbouring towns, where they sold them for a huge price. Now the wood-cutter decided to build for himself and for his daughter a wonderful palace. They chose a site just opposite the castle of the king of their country. In a very short time a marvellous building had come into being.
Now that particular king had a beautiful daughter, and one day when she got up in the morning, she saw a sort of fairy-tale castle just opposite her father’s and she was amazed. She asked her servants, ‘Who has built this castle? What right have these people to do such a thing so near to our home?’
The servants went away and made enquiries and they came back and told the story, as far as they could collect it, to the princess.
The princess called for the little daughter of the wood-cutter, for she was angry with her, but when the two girls met and talked they soon became fast friends. They started to meet every day and went to swim and play in the stream which had been made for the princess by her father. A few days after they first met, the princess took off a beautiful and valuable necklace and hung it up on a tree just beside the stream. She forgot to take it down when she came out of the water, and when she got home she thought it must have been lost.
The princess thought a little and then decided that the daughter of the wood-cutter had stolen her necklace. So she told her father, and he had the wood-cutter arrested; he confiscated the castle and declared forfeit everything that the wood-cutter had. The old man was thrown into prison, and the daughter was put into an orphanage.
As it was the custom in that country, after a period of time the wood-cutter was taken from the dungeon and put in the public square, chained to a post, with a sign around his neck. On the sign was written ‘This is what happens to those who steal from Kings.’
At first people gathered around him, and jeered and threw things at him. He was most unhappy.
But quite soon, as is the way of men, everyone became used to the sight of the old man sitting there by his post, and took very little notice of him. Sometimes people threw him scraps of food, sometimes they did not.
One day he overheard somebody saying that it was Thursday afternoon. Suddenly, the thought came into his mind that it would soon be the evening of Mushkil Gusha, the remover of all difficulties, and that he had forgotten to commemorate him for so many days. No sooner had this thought come into his head, than a charitable man, passing by, threw him a tiny coin. The wood-cutter called out: ‘Generous friend, you have given me money, which is of no use to me. If, however, your kindness could extend to buying one or two dates and coming and sitting and eating them with me, I would be eternally grateful to you.’
The other man went and bought a few dates. And they sat and ate them together. When they had finished, the wood-cutter told the other man the story of Mushkil Gusha. ‘I think you must be mad,’ said the generous man. But he was a kindly person who himself had many difficulties. When he arrived home after this incident, he found that all his problems had disappeared. And that made him start to think a great deal about Mushkil Gusha. But he leaves our story here.
The very next morning the princess went back to her bathing-place. As she was about to go into the water, she saw what looked like her necklace down at the bottom of the stream. As she was going to dive in to try to get it back, she happened to sneeze. Her head went up, and she saw that what she had thought was the necklace was only its reflection in the water. It was hanging on the bough of the tree where she had left it such a long time before. Taking the necklace down, the princess ran excitedly to her father and told him what had happened. The King gave orders for the wood-cutter to be released and given a public apology. The little girl was brought back from the orphanage, and everyone lived happily ever after.
These are some of the incidents in the story of Mushkil Gusha. It is a very long tale and it is never ended. It has many forms. Some of them are even not called the story of Mushkil Gusha at all, so people do not recognise it. But it is because of Mushkil Gusha that his story, in whatever form, is remembered by somebody, somewhere in the world, day and night, wherever there are people. As his story had always been recited, so it will always continue to be told.
Will you repeat the story of Mushkil Gusha on Thursday nights, and help the work of Mushkil Gusha?
* * *
A hand and a foot do not clap together.
Proverb.
Idries Shah: CARAVAN OF DREAMS, The Octagon Press, London 1968
