This is a story by my colleague and friend Katharina Lamprecht from Bruchköbel near Frankfurt, Germany…
One day an old Sufi master came through a little village, where just previously a big blast had occurred. In the middle of the village square was a huge hole in the ground and stones and lumps of mud and earth scattered everywhere. „Master“, the people cried, “look at the disaster that happened to us. The center of our village, our village´s pride and joy, is destroyed. What shall we do? Please, advise us.” „Dig“, the old man answered. „Dig? But there is already such a big hole. Wouldn´t it be better to fill it up“?
“If you have to overcome an obstacle, there are different ways to do so. You can either ignore it, remove it or use it. You never know if there is a treasure hidden”. Pondering these words, the people began to dig slowly, deeper and deeper until they hit upon a natural spring of pure sweet, delicious water which in time brought trees and flowers to their village square.
No sé si ya alguna vez hayas visto un águila. Claro, en el parque zoológico, pero en eso no estaba pensando. Si uno ve un águila en el zoológico, esa parece sin ganas, cansada y medio dormida. ¿Pues qué debería hacer? Un águila fue creada para volar, y eso no lo puede hacer en una jaula, en todo caso no verdaderamente. Lo que a mí me impresiona de las águilas es su fuerza y como la manejan. Se podría pensar que un ave tan grande también aleteara fuertemente cuando vuela. Pero eso no le hace falta a un águila. Traza círculos en el cielo, y aunque solo pocas veces mueve sus alas, puede subir hasta que la perdemos de la vista. ¿Cómo es que el águila sabe que es capaz de volar? Si un semejante animal pudiera hablar – creo que no empezaría a cuestionar la existencia del aire antes de ponerse a volar. Las águilas no necesitan pruebas. A ellas les basta de ser sostenidas. El resultado les sirve de prueba.
Un hombre estaba atravesando el desierto. Al rededor de él no había nada más que arena, piedras y rocas, el cielo azul reluciente y el sol ardiente. En la mitad de su camino se le ocurrió descansar y buscó un lugar adecuado. Un poco lejos del camino encontró un peñón que le podía ofrecer sombra durante su descanso. El hombre se acercó. Al llegar vió algo raro: En la sombra de le roca crecía una brizna de pasto, de hecho.
“¡Qué sorpresa! ¿De dónde vienes tú?”, le preguntó el hombre. Después se rió de si mismo:
“Estoy tan solo que empiezo hablar con la hierba. Será mejor examinar de donde viene ella.”
Excavó la plantita de la arena y la puso al lado cuidadosamente. Después empezó a cavar más y más profundamente. Aunque no tropezara con un manantial brotante, en ese lugar el suelo estaba verdaderamente mojado. Cuando el hombre de nuevo se puso en camino no olvidó de reponer la brizna en la tierra mojada. Con unas piedras construyó un pequeño muro para proteger la planta contra la desecación por el viento caliente del desierto. Después siguió caminando.
Al regresar pasó por el mismo lugar. Por supuesto miró si su pequeña planta estaba viva. Se alegró mucho: La brizna se había vuelto en un verdadero pequeño manojo de hierba. El hombre cavó un poco más profundamente y llegó a una parte aun más mojada de la tierra. Con un pañuelo, dos palos y unas piezas de cuerda, que había traído para el regreso, mejoró la protección de su planta contra el viento.
Muchos años después un amigo del hombre tuvo que atravesar el mismo desierto. Entonces le pidió a su amigo: “Pues mira qué fue de mi planta – si todavía existe.” El amigo se lo promitió. Cuando éste volvió del viaje le contó: “Tu manojo de hierba se ha vuelto en una pequeña pieza de prado. Otros viajeros han encontrado el lugar. Han subido el muro y puesto más palos con pañuelos. Alguién ha cavado un pozo y lo ha cubierto con una pieza de cuero. Al lado del pozo crece una hermosa higuera . En sus hojas canta un grillo.”
In a land in our time there lived a man, who read a book and found lots of wonderful stories therein. There were true and invented stories, experienced and pensive, enjoyable and painful stories. There were stories which contained stories, and such which were actually not stories. For every story he read, there occurred to him nearly five which he had either experienced or thought up himself. So the thought came to him, that a lot in the world was a story which could be healing for himself and others; he only needed to absorb the healing stories well and to forget the terrible ones immediately. Then he would learn which story he had used when and for what. So he organised his own stories which he knew, and which had become a help to himself and others, or could become so. Sometimes he noted it down when a new story came to his ears and sometimes when a helpful story occurred to him, he memorised it.
Then he saw before him in a picture the storystories of this life arranged in long shelves, as in a large pharmacy. And behind the counter there sat a man who had learnt to listen to himself and others. He was a master of his subjectspecialty. His talent was that he understood how to tell the right thing at the right time to himself and to those who visited him.
Once there was a civil war in Pampelonia. This is what happened: one evening, the guards on the tower of the royal castle heard gunshots from far away. Somewhere on the western horizon they saw a column of smoke ascending. “A revolution!” they shouted. “Our country is in danger!” A unit of the royal army took their weapons, saddled their horses, and rode away. They followed the direction of the smoke column. Their path went through a deep dark forest. It was already dark when they arrived in the area from where the gunshots had been fired. At some distance, on a forest glade, they saw a fire burning. What had at first appeared to be a burning house turned out to be a very large bonfire. Around the fire, a large crowd of armed citizens had gathered. “Rebels!” the commander whispered. Silently, they surrounded the clearing. Then they stepped forward. “Surrender!” the commander shouted. “We are superior in number!” The men on the clearing were startled. “Robbers!” one of them exclaimed. “Poachers!” shouted another. They jumped up and opened fire. Too late did they recognize the uniforms of the royal army. Slowly the soldiers realized that they had encountered a gathering of hunters, who had come together for a good roast and a drop of wine after a hunt. But they already found themselves engaged in combat, and very soon the inhabitants of a nearby village came with scythes and pitchforks to defend the hunters against the alleged robbers. What should the commander do? “Cease fire!” he shouted. He had the trumpeter sound the retreat, and his soldiers drew back. He decided upon a phased withdrawal of his troops, pulling out half of his soldiers and letting the other half secure the field. He waited until his opponents had understood that they wanted to withdraw and ceased their fire as well. Again he ordered half of the remaining soldiers to retreat while the other half secured the territory. He waited again until the sound of gunshots died down, and repeated the procedure a few more times until he was the only one left. Last of all, he left the battlefield. Back at the royal castle he gave a report to the king about the incident. The king, who was a good monarch, ordered them to go there again, but by daytime and unarmed. He himself accompanied the unit. They arrived at the place of the nightly encounter. The king had the villagers and the hunters of the area gather before him and explained how friends had erroneously mistaken each other for enemies. He pointed out that he saw their very good intention, although initially in misjudgement of the actual situation. A misunderstanding like this was there for being clarified. Whoever wanted to support the common good could contribute to reconciliation here and now. Now the king praised the villagers for having defended the hunters against their assaulters. He praised the hunters for having defended the forest against robbers and poachers. He praised the army for having defended his country against rebels. Most of all he praised the commander of his army for having defended the villagers, the hunters and the army by his cautious withdrawal. After the king’s speech, the hunters, villagers and soldiers asked each other for forgiveness. They pledged to support each other anytime, and to stand for justice and peace in the kingdom as long as they lived. They confirmed this pledge by putting out the fire together.
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