Soul's Journey

Category: Blogs

Blogs

  • The Clockmaker’s Secret Room

    The Clockmaker’s Secret Room

    The Clockmaker’s Secret Room

    In a small town, an old clockmaker named Elias made clocks that never rushed and never lagged. Each tick seemed to breathe.

    A child once asked, “Why do your clocks sound like whispers?”

    Elias led him to the back room.

    There was no noise. Just quiet. In the center stood a large, still pendulum.

    “This is where I tune time,” Elias said. “Not with gears—but silence.”

    He continued, “The world rushes. I slow it down.”

    The child sat. Time felt thick, golden. He didn’t want to leave.

    Elias whispered, “Remember: the deepest time keeps no time.”

    Commentary

    This story is a modern parable about reclaiming sacred rhythm. In a world of hyper-speed, the clockmaker restores slowness. Silence becomes the metronome of soul.

    Psychological Reflection

    We live in time-debt—overbooked, overstimulated, over-scheduled. But presence requires soul-time. Elias represents the archetype of the “inner clockkeeper” we all carry.

    Closing Reflection

    • Can I become a clockmaker of my own day today?
    • Where can I carve out 10 sacred minutes of stillness?

  • Kabir’s Loom

    Kabir’s Loom

    Kabir’s Loom

    Kabir the weaver sang as he worked:

    “Between warp and weft,
    my Beloved moves.
    The thread is breath,
    the shuttle, attention.”

    One day a scholar visited. “Kabir, where is your temple?”

    Kabir pointed to his loom. “Here. Each thread is a prayer.”

    The scholar scoffed. “This is not holy.”

    Kabir replied, “Then you see only form. Look again.”

    He wove in silence, lips murmuring poems. As the cloth grew, so did stillness in the air. Even the birds quieted.

    The scholar sat, watching. His heart slowed. Tears rose.

    By sunset, he bowed. “Your loom teaches more than my scriptures.”

    Kabir smiled. “God is in the thread—not the noise.”

    Commentary

    Kabir dissolves sacred/profane divides. His loom becomes a mandala. His life is his practice. Stillness arises not from escape but engagement infused with awareness.

    Psychological Reflection

    We seek meaning in distant rituals while overlooking daily grace. Kabir invites us to sanctify the ordinary through presence. Slowing down reveals the sacred in the mundane.

    Closing Reflection

    • What everyday task can I approach as a meditation today?

  • The Monk Who Could Not Sit Still

    The Monk Who Could Not Sit Still

    Story

    At a Zen monastery, a young monk named Kento couldn’t sit still. During zazen (seated meditation), he fidgeted, peeked, scratched, yawned.

    The master observed him silently for days.

    One evening, the master gave him a task: “Sit by the river. Do nothing. Just return when you are ready.”

    Kento sat.

    Birds chirped. Ants crawled. Leaves swayed. His thoughts screamed: “This is wasting time!”

    But he stayed.

    Hours passed. His restlessness softened. He began to feel the river’s rhythm syncing with his breath.

    When he returned, he bowed and whispered, “The river sat me.”

    The master smiled, “Good. Now, let stillness sit you.”

    Commentary

    Zen values direct experience. Kento’s resistance reflects our own anxiety toward stillness. But as he stops striving, nature becomes his teacher.

    Psychological Reflection

    Restlessness is often a mask for anxiety and unprocessed emotion. Stillness allows us to meet discomfort without fleeing. Kento’s transformation is from control to surrender.

    Closing Reflection

    • What stirs when I try to be still?
    • Can I allow nature to teach me silence?

  • Zhuangzi and the Useless Tree

    Zhuangzi and the Useless Tree

    Story

    Zhuangzi walked with his students and came upon a tree with crooked branches, knotty bark, and bent trunk.

    “This tree is worthless,” said one. “No one could use it.”

    Zhuangzi smiled. “That is why it lives long. No one chops it down.”

    He continued: “A craftsman once cursed such trees. But when he returned in a dream, the tree said: Your usefulness kills you. My uselessness preserves me.”

    The students were puzzled. “So should we be useless?”

    Zhuangzi replied, “Be useful to your soul, not your master.”

    Later that evening, Zhuangzi sat under that same tree. It gave generous shade. Birds sang. No one disturbed it.

    It was in being unfit for the world that the tree became perfectly suited for the Tao.

    Commentary

    Taoism reveres what’s natural, unpolished, and slow. The “useless” tree is free from exploitation and becomes a haven. Zhuangzi urges us to escape the trap of performative value.

    Psychological Reflection

    Many feel pressure to constantly “produce” or be “useful.” This story reframes worth—not in doing, but in being. Embracing imperfection becomes an act of liberation.

    Closing Reflection

    • Where in my life have I confused usefulness with worth?
    • Can I sit beneath my own inner tree without needing to be anything more?