Tuesday, March 04, 2008

The Spiritual Path

"You cannot travel the path until you have become the path."
Gautam Buddha

"It is not the road ahead that wears you out. It is the grain of sand in your shoe". Arabian proverb."My turning point was my pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. It was then that I, who had dedicated most of my life to penetrate the 'secrets' of the universe, realized that there are no secrets. Life is and will always be a mystery." Paulo Coelho "The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new landscapes, but in having new eyes." Marcel Proust "There are no foreign lands. It is the traveler only who is foreign." Robert Louis Stevenson
"If you reject the food, ignore the customs, fear the religion and avoid the people, you might better stay at home." James A. Michener "Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not." Ralph Waldo Emerson
"The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart." Helen Keller

"It is the people on the camino that make it so special....."

House by the side of the road - Samual Walter Foss

THERE are hermit souls that live withdrawn
In the place of their self-content;
There are souls like stars, that dwell apart,
In a fellowless firmament;
There are pioneer souls that blaze the paths
Where highways never ran-
But let me live by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

Let me live in a house by the side of the road
Where the race of men go by-
The men who are good and the men who are bad,
As good and as bad as I.
I would not sit in the scorner's seat
Nor hurl the cynic's ban-
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

I see from my house by the side of the road
By the side of the highway of life,
The men who press with the ardor of hope,
The men who are faint with the strife,
But I turn not away from their smiles and tears,
Both parts of an infinite plan-
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead,
And mountains of wearisome height;
That the road passes on through the long afternoon
And stretches away to the night.
And still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice
And weep with the strangers that moan,
Nor live in my house by the side of the road
Like a man who dwells alone.

Let me live in my house by the side of the road,
Where the race of men go by-
They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong,
Wise, foolish - so am I.
Then why should I sit in the scorner's seat,
Or hurl the cynic's ban?
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.


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