THE FROG IN THE WELL

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THE FROG IN THE WELL

Once upon a time, a family of frogs lived in a well. Every day they were waked by the sun. The well got light for a short time and then turned dark again. Down there the sun appeared and disappeared soon.

A young frog wanted to know from where the sun came and where it went to.

To solve the mystery, he needed to get out of the well. What to do! The well was narrow and deep. His hind legs were too weak to jump over it. It seemed impossible for him to see daylight. But the young frog was steadfast and optimistic.

Every day he trained for the high jump.

Some day, I will be able to make a very high jump which will take me out of this goddam well.” He said to himself.

By practicing day by day, finally he was able to take a great jump and get out of the well.

Now I will follow the sun to see from where it comes and where it goes to.”

He kept jumping to follow the sun, until at last he returned to the same place where he had started his traveling.

Meanwhile, his families had succeeded in coming out of the well and now they were sitting silently keeping their eyes closed near the well.

He got near his brother and whispered in his ear, “What are you doing here motionless and with closed eyes?”

We are meditating. We are watching inside ourselves. Where have you been?”

I have traveled all over the world to see from where the sun comes and where it goes to.”

Did you discover anything?”

No, I didn’t. I don’t know anything about the sun.”

I know everything about it.”

How is it possible?”

I watch my breathing, then inside myself. Gradually I come to know who I am. You can do the same. Just watch yourself and you’ll find the sun inside you.”

Ettore Grillo, author of these books:

– A Hidden Sicilian History

– The Vibrations of Words

– Travels of the Mind

www.sbpra.com/ettoregrillo

MANDALA

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MANDALA

A mandala is a ritual drawing or painting usually round-shaped. It symbolizes the universe.

In some parts of India, every day housewives draw a colorful mandala in front of their house. To make it they use chalk powder which they drop from their hand very skillfully. Over the day the drawing of mandala fades away because people step on it.

Walking on the beach of Goa, I could find somebody who draws a mandala on the seashore. The work will not last long. Soon the tide will erase it.

While looking at a mandala on the sand, I recalled what once happened in an ancient Zen Monastery. A master gave his disciple the task of heaping dry leaves under the blowing wind. There was a deep meaning in that seemingly absurd task?

A mandala drawn with chalk powder or a mandala on the sand has the same meaning of heaping dry leaves under the wind? I think they symbolize our life. Every day we strive to heap dry leaves that the wind will blow away sooner or later. Every day we draw our mandala which will disappear tomorrow like that on the sand.

Ettore Grillo, author of these books:

– A Hidden Sicilian History

– The Vibrations of Words

– Travels of the Mind

www.sbpra.com/ettoregrillo

8 MARCH 2028

8 MARCH 2028

When I was an eleven-year-old student, our teacher made us write an essay with this title to stimulate our imagination: “8 March 2028 – describe yourself and the world around you on that date.”

In my essay I made a lot of predictions about my future life, but as far as I can remember, none of them turned out to be real.

I didn’t predict that I would become an author and a traveler.

We can program our life, but very often it goes its way regardless of our plans. Casual happenings drag us here and there beyond our control.

Now I am at Arambol Beach in Goa (India) for my winter holidays.

How did I spend the last day of the year? At dawn I went jogging on the beach, saluted the rising sun, and helped some fishermen that asked me to give them a hand to beach their heavy boat.

At night, I walked along the seaside where thousands of people were waiting for the stroke of midnight.

On the first day of the new year, I went to the beach at daybreak again. There were a few cleaners that were collecting the garbage littered by those who had celebrated Happy New Year all night.

I jogged and then saluted the rising sun as usual. It was the same sun as yesterday. Seeing me, the fishermen waved their hands from a distance. Nothing had changed! We humans divide time into days, months and years, and make wishes whenever a new year comes, but in nature there is only an uninterrupted flow of happenings without beginning or end.

Ettore Grillo, author of these books:

– A Hidden Sicilian History

– The Vibrations of Words

– Travels of the Mind

www.sbpra.com/ettoregrillo