The Alchemist on Destiny

The boy didn't know what a person's "destiny" was. "It's what you have always wanted to accomplish. Everyone, when they are young, knows what their destiny is. At that point in their lives, everything is clear and everything is possible. They are not afraid to dream, and to yearn for everything they would like to see happen to them in their lives. But, as time passes, a mysterious force begins to convince them that it will be impossible for them to realize their destiny... It's a force that appears to be negative, but actually shows you how to realize your destiny. It prepares your spirit and your will, because there is one great truth on this planet: whoever you are, or whatever it is that you do, when you really want something, it's because that desire originated in the soul of the universe. It's your mission on earth."

--- Old King to Santiago

The Missing Brick

Once, when I and my wife were traveling, I received a fax from my secretary.

“There’s one glass brick missing for the work on the kitchen renovation,’ she said. ‘I’m sending you the original plan as well as the plan the builder has come up with to compensate for it.”

On the one hand, there was the design my wife had made: harmonious lines of bricks with an opening for ventilation. On the other, there was the plan drawn up to resolve the problem of the missing brick: a real jigsaw puzzle in which the glass squares were arranged in a higgledy-piggledy fashion that defied aesthetics.

“Just buy another brick," wrote my wife. And so the did, and thus stuck to the original design.

That afternoon, I thought for a long time about what had happened; how often, for the lack of one brick, we completely distort the original plan of our lives.

Alone On The Road

When things get hard, let us not forget that - independent of race, color, social situation, beliefs, or culture - everyone has experienced exactly the same. A lovely prayer written by the Egyptian Sufi Master Dhu'l-Nun (d. AD 861) neatly sums up the attitude one needs to adopt at such times:

O God, when I listen to the voices of the animals, to the sound of the trees, the murmur of the water, the singing of the birds, to the rushing of the wind or to the rumble of thunder, I see in them evidence of Your unity; I feel that You are supreme power, supreme knowledge, supreme wisdom, supreme justice.

O God, I also recognize You in the difficulties I am experiencing now. God, let Your satisfaction be my satisfaction, and let me be Your joy, the joy that a Father takes in his child. And let me remember You with calmness and determination, even when it is hard for me to say: I love You.

The Winner Stands Alone

A seagull was flying over a beach, when it saw a mouse. It flew down and asked the mouse:
‘Where are your wings?’

Each animal speaks its own language, and so the mouse didn’t understand the question, but stared at the two strange, large things attached to the other creatures body.
‘It must have some illness,’ thought the mouse.

The seagull noticed the mouse staring at its wings and thought:
‘Poor thing. It must have been attacked by monsters that left it deaf and took away its wings.’

Feeling sorry for the mouse, the seagull picked it up in its beak and took it for a ride in the skies. ‘Its probably homesick,’ the seagull thought while they were flying. Then, very carefully, it deposited the mouse once more on the ground.

For some months afterwards, the mouse was sunk in gloom; it had known the heights and seen a vast and beautiful world. However, in time, it grew accustomed to being just a mouse again and came to believe that the miracle that had occurred in its life was nothing but a dream.

The Zahir

In the hospital Love had spoken to me: "I am everything and I am nothing. I am the wind, and I cannot enter doors and windows that are shut."

And I said to Love: "But I am open to you."

And Love said to me: " The wind is made of air. The air is inside your house, but everything is shut up. The furniture will get covered in dust, the damp will ruin the paintings and stain the walls. You will continue to breathe, you will know a small part of me, but I am not a part. I am Everything and you will never know that."

I saw the furniture was covered in dust, that the paintings were being corroded by damp, and I had no alternative but to open the windows and doors. When I did that, the wind swept away everything. I wanted to cling to my memories, to protect what I thought I had worked hard to acheive, but everything had disapperaed and I was as empty as the Steppes."

--- Paulo Coelho

Ithaca

When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,

pray that the road is long,

full of adventure, full of knowledge.

The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,

the angry Poseidon—do not fear them:

You will never find such as these on your path

if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine

emotion touches your spirit and your body.

The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,

the fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,

if you do not carry them within your soul,

if your heart does not set them up before you.

Pray that the road is long.

That the summer mornings are many, when,

with such pleasure, with such joy

you will enter ports seen for the first time;

stop at Phoenician markets,

and purchase fine merchandise,

mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,

and sensual perfumes of all kinds,

as many sensual perfumes as you can;

visit many Egyptian cities,

to learn and learn from scholars.

Always keep Ithaca in your mind.

To arrive there is your ultimate goal.

But do not hurry the voyage at all.

It is better to let it last for many years;

and to anchor at the island when you are old,

rich with all you have gained on the way,

not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.

Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.

Without her you would never have set out on the road.

She has nothing more to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.

Wise as you have become, with so much experience,

you must already have understood what Ithacas mean.

CONSTANTINE CAVAFY (1863–1933)
translated by Rae Dalven

On My Way To Chicago Bookfair

I was flying from New York to Chicago to attend the book fair held in the American Booksellers Association. Suddenly, a young man stood up in the aisle of the plane and announced:
"I need twelve volunteers each willing to carry a single rose when we get off the plane."

Several people raised their hands. I did too, but wasn't chosen. Even so, I decided to follow the group. We landed, and the young man indicated a young woman in the arrivals hall at O'Hare Airport. One by one, the passengers presented their roses to her. At last, in front of everyone, the young man asked her to marry him, and she accepted.

An air steward said to me: "I've been working here for years, and that's the most romantic things that has ever happened in this airport."

Paulo Coelho

The Devil's Pool

I'm looking at a lovely natural pool near the village of Babinda in Australia. A young Aborigine comes over to me.

"Be careful you don't slip," he says.

The small pool is surrounded by rocks, apparently quite safe to walk on.

"This place is called the Devil's Pool," the boy goes on. "Many years ago, Oolona, a beautiful Aborigine girl who was married to a warrior from Babinda, fell in love with another man. They fled into these mountains, but the husband found them. The lover escaped, but Oolona was murdered here in these waters. Ever since then, Oolona thinks that every man who comes near is her lost love, and she kills them with her watery embrace."

Later on, I asked the owner of the small hotel about the Devil's Pool.

"It must just be superstition," he says, "but the fact is that eleven tourists have died there in the last ten years, and they were all men."

--- PAULO COELHO

In San Diego Harbour, California

I was talking to a woman from the Tradition of the Moon - a kind of initiation path for women that works in harmony with the forces of nature.

"Would you like to touch a seagull?" she asked, looking at the birds perched along the seawall.

Of course I would. I tried several times, but whenever I get close, they would fly away.

"Try to feel love for the bird, the allow that love to pour out of your breast like a ray of light and touch the bird's breast. Then very quietly go over to it."

I did as she suggested. The first two times I failed, but the third time, as if I had entered a kind of trance, I did touch the seagull. I went into that trance state again with the same positive result.

"Love creates bridges where it would seem they were impossible," said my white witch friend.

I recount this experience here, for anyone who would like to try it.

----Like the Flowing River, Paulo Coelho.