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The Rooster …by Everett B. Padgett, Jr
When I was just a very young lad, it was my responsibility to milk several cows each morning and evening. My father worked away during the week making it absolutely necessary for me to accomplish this task with little outside help except from my mother in the mornings. I alone had to do the evening milkings.
To get to the barn in the evening, I had to pass through the area in which the chickens were located. There was a rooster who loved to establish its self-esteem by flogging me as I walked through its territory.
Having a rooster flogging would be a horrifying experience even for an adult. But words cannot describe the impact it would have on a child. The rooster would not flog me except when I was carrying buckets filled with milk.
With empty buckets, it seemed to sense that I could get away from it. But with the full buckets, I was at its mercy since I could not afford to spill the milk.
The situation became so frightening that I would even go the long way around in order to avoid the rooster. It caused me much concern and even completely occupied my mind just before going to the barn each day.
The job of milking gives no days off. There had to be some solution to this situation; but I was not about to let my father know that I was so afraid of that rooster. He would have never understood that.
On one occasion, I was presented with some time alone with my uncle Harrison. He was a wise man just a little older than my father. And he never seemed to be afraid of anything. I decided to seek his wise counsel on the matter. He seemed to enjoy talking with me about the rooster and trying to help me solve my terrible problem.
Uncle Harrison suggested that I carry an extra pair of buckets with me to the barn. When I was to start back to the house, I should carry the pair of empty buckets, one in each hand. As the rooster came near, I was to be very calm and let it start flogging me. Uncle Harrison assured me that I should let the rooster think that it was going to frighten me as it so many times had done.
It was then that I should strike the rooster with the empty buckets. He assured me that I would not harm the rooster, but the sound of the buckets would make my point. I certainly could not hurt my father’s rooster.
He cautioned me that I should keep striking the rooster until it threw up its wings to cover its head. It was only then that I would have won the battle with the rooster. If I ever retreated, the rooster would know that I was still afraid, and I would be destined to repeat each day that awful experience.
I did not have any other choice than to try Uncle Harrison’s solution. He seemed to have so much faith in me. And telling my father that I was afraid of the rooster would have been a source of great embarrassment.
I carried the extra buckets as I went to the barn on that fateful day. As I milked the cows, my hands were shaking not being able to forget about what I had to do. Out of the barn I came uttering numerous prayers for my success.
The rooster approached as usual when it realized I had two milk buckets in hand not realizing that both were empty. I continued to utter my pleas for divine intervention. A crossroads in my life was quickly approaching. A line was now being drawn in the sand, and I was doing the drawing. Could I really stand there and let the rooster attack me?
The rooster flogged with such ferocity as if it seemed to sense the importance of this encounter. I bit my lip hard as fear forced the tears down my cheeks. I quickly reviewed the instructions from Uncle Harrison as I hit the rooster with one bucket and then with the other bucket. The rooster fell backwards as if it was having difficulty understanding the turn of events.
For a brief moment, the rooster retreated as if to test my conviction in the matter. But again, it charged toward me. I had had just enough success that the next attack would be easier to repel. My courage was growing.
Again and again I struck it. In the heat of the moment, the handle to one the buckets came loose sending the bucket flying into the air. But that did not seem to matter as I continued with the remaining one.
The rooster retreated toward the hen house with me in swift pursuit. Under the hen house it went to the smallest corner trying to avoid my strikes. Cornered and defeated, the rooster finally threw up its wings to cover its head.
I had defeated the rooster. And this or any other rooster was never again to cause me any concern.
In life, we must face the rooster. Life is filled with many fearful circumstances. We must make difficult decisions. We must stand up and face difficult situations. We will need help and advice from others along the way.
But we must persist. Little did I know as a young lad what a profound effect that event would have upon my life. That one event gave me the courage to fight other more important battles in life.
Everett B. Padgett, Jr., — North Carolina
Copyright © June, 1994 (Revised 1996)
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have a quality day
(~_~)
When a novice starts learning martial arts, he wears a white belt, symbolic of innocence. After months of practice, the white belt gets dirty and turns brown, symbolic of the first degree of attainment. After more practice, the belt gets soiled and eventually turns black, symbolic of full attainment.
If the practitioner does not stop learning even after full attainment, the black belt starts getting frayed, turning almost white, symbolic of return to innocence. The frayed white belt represents technical competence of an experienced martial artist, combined with the innocence and receptivity of a beginner. It signifies going beyond technique and embracing no-technique—coming full circle.
story source: white belt
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The original martial arts used only one belt as described above. But now-a-days the different colored belts are used to describe the practitioners growth.
At inner spirit martial arts, the white belt was symbolic of the crane. Where speed was developed and patience acquired. A crane can only survive a tiger’s attack with evasive maneuvers.
Through much practice, exercise and persistence one attained an orange belt. The symbol for the Tiger, strength.
Then comes the green belt. Where the student learns holds and throws. Agility, vitality, perseverance.
here is where many schools differ, some will have blue belts (water), purple belts (air) and other colors before the brown belt. Many will go from brown to black as is many customary practices. At Inner Spirit Martial Arts the brown belt symbolized: Earth, well grounded, growth, deeply rooted and solid.
as shone here…
Red belt symbolized… the dragon, full of fire, energy and the stage where one readies them self for black belt testing.
To attain the black belt one must demonstrate their abilities in their style of martial arts. One of the key elements is teaching, for a black belts primary task will be to teach others… coming full circle.
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I thought about this when I went to work the other day and I was asked to mentor a new officer. To teach them the ways of our profession. I realized I had come full circle in my employment. No matter what you do in life, when you have reached a certain point in your life, you will end up teaching others. Rather it be a profession or a grandparent. So, teach them well…
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may you pass your wisdom on to another this day
(~_~)
When somebody overrates himself, he is often warned: “Don’t be a mantis trying to stop a chariot.” The saying comes from a legend dated back to the Spring and Autumn Period.
One day, the King of Qi went out for a hunting with his men. The carriages were going along, when suddenly a mantis stood in the middle of the road with its sickle-like forelegs opened. It was obvious that he was trying to fight against the carriage to hold it back. Surprised at the case, the King of Qi ordered to stop and asked what creature it was. When he was told it was called mantis, and it would go well up to bridle decisively when it was challenged.
The King sighed with exclamation at its braveness. He mused a moment and added: “It’s a great pity that it is not more than an insect. If it were a man, he must be the bravest warrior in the world!” Then the King ordered his carriages turn around it to leave the mantis there standing martially.
When the persons around heard the King’s words, they were well touched and determined to devote themselves to the country.
As time passed, the meaning of the phrase changed to its opposite. Now it means that someone overrates oneself and try to hold back an overwhelmingly superior force.
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It is said that in antiquity a god named KuaFu determined to have a race with the Sun and catch up with Him. So he rushed in the direction of the Sun. Finally, he almost ran neck and neck with the Sun, when he was too thirsty and hot to continue. Where could he find some water? Just then the Yellow River and Wei River came into sight, roaring on. He swooped upon them earnestly and drank the whole river. But he still felt thirsty and hot, thereupon, he marched northward for the lakes in the north of China. Unfortunately, he fell down and died halfway because of thirst. With his fall, down dropped his cane. Then the cane became a stretch of peach, green and lush.
And so comes the idiom, KuaFu chased the Sun, which becomes the trope of man’s determination and volition against nature.
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an ant may well destroy a whole damn.
you can’t stop the wind but you can harness it!
mistakes in life are common and are not to be frowned upon but learned from!
(*_*)
When the nun Chiyono studied Zen under Bukko of Engaku she was unable to attain the fruits of meditation for a long time.
At last one moonlit night she was carrying water in an old pail bound with bamboo. The bamboo broke and the bottom fell out of the pail, and at that moment Chiyono was set free!
In commemoration, she wrote a poem:
In this way and that I tried to save the old pail
Since the bamboo strip was weakening and about to break
Until at last the bottom fell out.
No more water in the pail!
No more moon in the water!
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When Eshun, the Zen nun, was past sixty and about to leave this world, she asked some monks to pile up wood in the yard.
Seating herself firmly in the center of the funeral pyre, she had it set fire around the edges.
“O nun!” shouted one monk, “is it hot in there?”
“Such a matter would concern only a stupid person like yourself,” answered Eshun. The flames arose, and she passed away.
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Gisho was ordained as a nun when she was ten years old. She received training just as the little boys did. When she reached the age of sixteen she traveled from one Zen master to another, studying with them all.
She remained three years with Unzan, six years with Gukei, but was unable to obtained a clear vision. At last she went to the master Inzan.
Inzan showed her no distinction at all on account of her sex. He scolded her like a thunderstorm. He cuffed her to awaken her inner nature.
Gisho remained with Inzan thirteen years, and then she found that which she was seeking!
In her honor, Inzan wrote a poem:
This nun studied thirteen years under my guidance.
In the evening she considered the deepest koans,
In the morning she was wrapped in other koans.
The Chinese nun Tetsuma surpassed all before her,
And since Mujaku none has been so genuine as this Gisho!
Yet there are many more gates for her to pass through.
She should receive still more blows from my iron fist.
After Gisho was enlightened she went to the province of Banshu, started her own Zen temple, and taught two hundred other nuns until she passed away one year in the month of August.
http://spiritualinquiry.com/zen-stories/
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have a zen-sational day
(~_~)
Fran the Frog was the best chef in the whole swamp, and all the toads and frogs of the region enjoyed coming to her very select restaurant. Her ‘Flies in spicy bug sauce’ and her ‘Caramelised dragon flies wings with honey of bee’ were the kind of delicacies that every self-respecting frog should try; and that made Fran feel truly proud.
One day, Toby came to her restaurant, ready for a nosh. Toby was a great big toad, and certainly wasn’t the brightest. When Fran’s fine creations were brought before him he complained, saying that that wasn’t food, and that what he really wanted was a botfly burger. Fran came out of the kitchen to see what the problem was, and Toby told her that these dishes weren’t good enough for – and certainly wouldn’t fill – a Smooth Newt. This made Fran so offended, and furious, that she went to the kitchen, came back with a frying pan, and whacked Toby squarely on the forehead.
A slight scuffle ensued.
Even though Fran realised she should have controlled her temper, and she kept asking Toby to forgive her, the toad was so angry that he said he could only forgive her if she handed him the frying pan so he could hit her back.
Everyone tried to calm Toby down, knowing full well that, given his strength, he could easily crack little Fran’s head open with that frying pan.
Toby would not accept an apology, and Fran felt awful for having bashed him, so she tried everything. She gave him a special cream for bruises, she poured him an exquisite puddlewater liqueur. Even better than that, she cooked him a… beautiful botfly burger!
But Toby the Toad still insisted he would not be satisfied until he got to return the blow he had received. It had reached the stage where he was almost getting out of control.
Then a very old toad entered the restaurant, shuffling along with the help of two crutches.
– Wait Toby, – said the old toad -you can give her a whack after I’ve broken your leg. Remember that you are the reason why I have to walk with these crutches.
Toby didn’t know what to say.
He recognised the old toad. It was Reddit, his old teacher. When Toby was small, Reddit had saved him from a bunch of young hooligans. In the process, Reddit had lost a leg. Toby remembered that it had all happened because he had been highly disobedient, but he had never given a thought to Reddit until now…
Toby now realised he was being very unfair to Fran. Everyone, including himself, made mistakes sometimes. And if we are to return blow for blow, wound for wound, all we are doing is prolonging the damage. So, even though his head still hurt and he thought Fran had made quite a remarkable mistake with that frying pan, seeing her feeling so sorry, and doing everything she could to put things right, Toby decided to forgive her.
Apology accepted, they spent the rest of the evening laughing at what had happened, and enjoying wonderful botfly burgers. And everyone heartily agreed that that was a rather better idea than getting into problems with pans.
story source: a frog and a frying pan
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If every one lived by the rule an eye for an eye, the whole world would be blind.
when your cup over flows with cuteness… smile!
(~_~)
One day a man saw an old lady, stranded on the side of the road, but even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached her.
Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt her? He didn’t look safe; he looked poor and hungry. He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was those chills which only fear can put in you. He said, “I’m here to help you, ma’am. Why don’t you wait in the car where it’s warm? By the way, my name is Bryan Anderson.”
Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough. Bryan crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his hands hurt.
As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down the window and began to talk to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just passing through. She couldn’t thank him enough for coming to her aid.
Bryan just smiled as he closed her trunk. The lady asked how much she owed him. Any amount would have been all right with her. She already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped. Bryan never thought twice about being paid. This was not a job to him. This was helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty, who had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way.
He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance they needed, and Bryan added, “And think of me.”
He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed for home, disappearing into the twilight.
A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was a dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two old gas pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn’t erase. The lady noticed the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude. The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger. Then she remembered Bryan.
After the lady finished her meal, she paid with a hundred dollar bill. The waitress quickly went to get change for her hundred dollar bill, but the old lady had slipped right out the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back. The waitress wondered where the lady could be. Then she noticed something written on the napkin.
There were tears in her eyes when she read what the lady wrote: “You don’t owe me anything. I have been there too. Somebody once helped me out, the way I’m helping you. If you really want to pay me back, here is what you do: Do not let this chain of love end with you.”
Under the napkin were four more $100 bills.
Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it through another day. That night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written. How could the lady have known how much she and her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard….
She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low, “Everything’s going to be all right. I love you, Bryan Anderson.”
this story found here!
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Karma
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Though they didn’t use the term “karma,” ancient Greek’s certainly believed that the actions of a person would be revisited upon that person, whether good or bad. That is, if a person mistreated somebody, he or she would be mistreated at some point in their lives. Similarly, if a person was kind or helpful to somebody, he or she would be the beneficiary of some future kindness or help.
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How people treat you is their karma, how you react is yours
(~_~)
A man was on the side of the road with a large birdcage. A boy noticed that the cage was full of birds of many kinds.
“Where did you get those birds?” he asked.
“Oh, all over the place,” the man replied. “I lure them with crumbs, pretend I’m their friend then when they are close, I net them and shove them into my cage.”
“And what are you going to do with them now?”
The man grinned, “I’m going to prod them with sticks, and get them really and so they fight and kill each other. Those that survive, I will kill. None will escape.” The boy looked steadily at the man. What made him do such things? He looked into the cruel hard eyes. Then he looked at the birds, defenseless, without hope.
“Can I buy those birds?” the boy asked. The man hid a smile, aware that he could be on to a good thing if he played his cards right.
“Well,” he said hesitantly, “The cage is pretty expensive, and I spent a lot of time collecting these birds, I’ll tell you what I’ll do, I’ll let you have the lot, birds, cage and all for ten pounds and that jacket you’re wearing.” The boy paused, ten pounds was all he had, and the jacket was new and very special, in fact it was his prized possession.
Slowly, he took out the ten pounds and handed it over, then even more slowly he took off his jacket, gave it one last look then handed that over too.
And then (well, you’ve guessed it) he opened the door and let the birds go free.
MORAL OF THE STORY IS . . .
Evil, was on the side of life’s road with a very large cage. The man coming towards him noticed it was crammed full of people of every kind, young, old, from every race and nation.
“Where did you get all those people?” the man asked. “Oh, from all over the world,” Evil replied. “I lure them with drink, drugs, lust, lies, anger, hate, love of money and all manner of things. I pretend I’m their friend, out to give them a good time, then when I’ve hooked them, into the cage they go.”
this story found … here!
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There is an old story about a fellow who lived alone and went to a pet store to buy a parrot. He thought the bird might fill some of his lonely hours. The very next day, however, he came back to complain, “That bird doesn’t talk.”
The store owner asked if he had a mirror in its cage, and the man said he didn’t. “Oh, parrots love mirrors,” he explained. “When he sees his reflection in the mirror, he’ll just start talking away.” So he sold him a birdcage mirror.
The bird owner was back the next day to gripe that his parrot still hadn’t said a word. “That’s very peculiar,” allowed the pet expert. “How about a swing? Birds really love these little swings, and a happy parrot is a talkative parrot.” So the man bought a swing, took it home, and installed it in the cage.
But he was back the next day with the same story. “Does he have a ladder to climb?” the salesman asked. “That just has to be the problem. Once he has a ladder, he’ll probably talk your ear off!” So the fellow bought a ladder.
The man was back at the pet store when it opened the next day. From the look on his face, the owner knew something was wrong. “Didn’t your parrot like the ladder?” he asked. His repeat customer looked up and said, “The parrot died.”
“I’m so sorry,” the stunned businessman said. “Did he ever say anything?”
“Well, yes. He finally talked just before he died. In a weak little voice, he asked me, ‘Don’t they sell any bird seed at that pet store?'”
Some of us have mistakenly thought that happiness consists of lining our cages with toys, gadgets, and other stuff. Excessive consumption has become the hallmark of American life. “Whoever has the most toys wins” seems to be the likely candidate to be the bumper sticker for an entire culture. But is it so?
There is a spiritual hunger in the human heart that can’t be satisfied by seeing one’s own image reflected back in vanity mirrors, playing with our grown-up toys, or climbing the corporate ladder. Our hearts need real nourishment.
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I know why the caged bird sings…
(~_~)
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A Thousand Words
Last night, the wife, my little 9 year old daughter and I watched the movie, “A Thousand Words.” I was taken by the movie’s ‘zen’ appeal and of course ‘Eddie Murphy’s’ comic charm. Even my lil girl laughed and loved the movie that was charming and filled with a wonderful message of, “the power of words.”
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After stretching the truth on a deal with a spiritual guru, literary agent Jack McCall finds a Bodhi tree on his property. Its appearance holds a valuable lesson on the consequences of every word we speak.
Eddie Murphy is Jack McCall, a fast-talking literary agent, who can close any deal, any time, any way. He has set his sights on New Age guru Dr. Sinja (Cliff Curtis) for his own selfish purposes.
But Dr. Sinja is on to him, and Jack’s life comes unglued after a magical Bodhi tree mysteriously appears in his backyard. With every word Jack speaks, a leaf falls from the tree and he realizes that when the last leaf falls, both he and the tree are toast. Words have never failed Jack McCall, but now he’s got to stop talking … or he’s a goner.
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Words are a powerful tool, but not just the words but the passion and emotions that we use with them matter as much as what we say. As in the story with Buddha and the lake, where a married couple scream at each other because their hearts have become distant, even though they stand next to each other. When their love was new and fresh, their hearts were so close that they did not need words, the heart knew what the other was feeling.
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I see this movie in so many others, you can’t take a hammer and pound zen into them. No matter how many stories, parables or quotes you throw at them, they just don’t get it. Like watching a dog chase it’s own tail, never going anywhere spiritually in life, just existing. In this movie, Eddie Murphy has to go through a harsh trial to understand, passion, a better way of living and of course the power of words. Needless to say, I recommend to all, watch this movie.
words are tied to emotions like a tree’s root reaching into the earth.
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choose your words wisely
(~_~)
A Native American and his friend were in downtown New York City, walking near Times Square in Manhattan. It was during the noon lunch hour and the streets were filled with people. Cars were honking their horns, taxicabs were squealing around corners, sirens were blaring, and the sounds of the city were almost deafening.
Suddenly, the Native American said, “I hear a cricket.”
His friend said, “What? You must be crazy. You couldn’t possibly hear a cricket in all of this noise!”
“No, I’m sure of it,” the Native American said, “I heard a cricket.”
“That’s crazy,” said the friend.
The Native American listened carefully for a moment, and then walked across the street to a big cement planter where some shrubs were growing. He looked into the bushes, beneath the branches, and sure enough, he located a small cricket. His friend was utterly amazed.
“That’s incredible,” said his friend “You must have superhuman ears!”
“No,” said the Native American. “My ears are no different from yours. It all depends on what you’re listening for.”
“But that can’t be!” said the friend. “I could never hear a cricket in this noise.”
“Yes, it is, it depends on what is really important to you. Here, let me show you.”
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a few coins, and discreetly dropped them on the sidewalk. And then, with the noise of the crowded street still blaring in their ears, they noticed every head within twenty feet turn and look to see if the money that tinkled on the pavement was theirs.
“See what I mean?” asked the Native American. “It all depends on what’s important to you.”
this story found here…
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It’s a cold day in December in New York City. A little boy about ten years old was standing before a shoe store on Broadway, barefooted, peering through the window, and shivering with cold. A lady approached the boy and said, “My little fellow, why are you looking so earnestly in that window?” “I was asking God to give me a pair of shoes,” was the boy’s reply.
The lady took him by the hand and went into the store, and asked the clerk to get a half dozen pairs of socks for the boy. She then asked if he could give her a basin of water and a towel. He quickly brought them to her. She took the little fellow to the back part of the store and, removing her gloves, knelt down, washed his little feet, and dried them with a towel. By this time, the clerk had returned with the socks. Placing a pair upon the boy’s feet, she then purchased a pair of shoes for him, and tying up the remaining pairs of socks, gave them to him. She patted him on the head, and said, “No doubt, my little fellow, you feel more comfortable now?”
As she turned to go, the astonished lad caught her by the hand and looking into her face with tears in his eyes, he answered the question with these words: “Are you God’s wife?”
–Author Unknown
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have an incredible day
(~_~)
Handsome is as handsome does
Every morning, before leaving his home, the great philosopher Socrates used to stand in front of a mirror and gaze attentively at his reflection for several minutes.
One day, a disciple came upon him doing this, and was unable to suppress a smile at the sight of his master examining himself so closely. Socrates turned to him and said, “You are smiling, no doubt, at the sight of this ugly old fellow staring at himself in the mirror, are you not? I do this everyday.”
Shamed, the disciple bowed his head, but before he could beg pardon, Socrates continued: “On seeing myself in the mirror everyday, I become aware of my own ugliness. This strengthens my resolve to live in a way that the virtue of my work may outshine the unattractiveness of my countenance.”
The disciple exclaimed, “Master, do you mean to say that those who are good looking should not look in a mirror at all?”
“Nothing of the sort” said Socrates. “They should also keep looking in the mirror to remind themselves to think, speak and behave in a way that is as beautiful and striking as they are. May not their actions cast a shadow over their pleasing appearance.”
In this way Socrates left behind a profound lesson for all of us: Handsome is as handsome does.
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After his service in the war, Socrates devoted himself to his favorite pastime: the pursuit of truth.
His reputation as a philosopher, literally meaning ‘a lover of wisdom’, soon spread all over Athens and beyond. When told that the Oracle of Delphi had revealed to one of his friends that Socrates was the wisest man in Athens, he responded not by boasting or celebrating, but by trying to prove the Oracle wrong.
So Socrates decided he would try and find out if anyone knew what was truly worthwhile in life, because anyone who knew that would surely be wiser than him. He set about questioning everyone he could find, but no one could give him a satisfactory answer. Instead they all pretended to know something they clearly did not.
Finally he realized the Oracle might be right after all. He was the wisest man in Athens because he alone was prepared to admit his own ignorance rather than pretend to know something he did not.
Know thy self… Socrates
(~_~)
zendictive 