Soul's Journey

Category: Mind

  • 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?

  • Arjuna at Dvaita Forest

    Arjuna at Dvaita Forest

    Arjuna at Dvaita Forest

    After the war of Kurukshetra, Arjuna wandered restless.

    Though victorious, he felt hollow. The sounds of clashing swords still echoed in his sleep. People praised him. Kings honored him. But peace eluded him.

    One day, he arrived at Dvaita Forest—a quiet, wooded region once visited by sages. Tired, he laid down beneath a sal tree. For days, he did nothing. Just lay and listened to the silence.

    A hermit came by, noticed the warrior, and simply nodded. No words.

    On the fifth day, Arjuna finally spoke. “I have fought for dharma. Why do I feel so lost?”

    The hermit replied, “Because victory in the world doesn’t quiet the soul. You have mastered the bow. Now, master the stillness.”

    Arjuna protested, “But I am a Kshatriya (warrior)… I live by action!”

    The hermit smiled. “Even Shiva dances after stillness. You have earned rest. Let the forest become your teacher now.”

    In the weeks that followed, Arjuna began to rise early, breathe with the trees, observe the ants, and watch the moon change phase. He touched his bow less, and his breath more.

    He had conquered kingdoms. But in Dvaita, he began to rediscover himself.

    Commentary

    Dvaita Forest is symbolic of the Vanaprastha phase—withdrawal into quietude after intense worldly duty. Arjuna represents many midlife souls who’ve achieved much but feel hollow. The hermit’s wisdom shifts the axis: from dharma-through-doing to dharma-through-being.

    Psychological Reflection

    This story captures the burnout hidden beneath success. The post-goal emptiness many face stems from unintegrated trauma and spiritual fatigue. Stillness becomes not just recovery, but revelation.

    Closing Reflection

    • What part of me is asking to rest, not achieve?
    • What happens when I stop fighting—even for the right things?Coming Soon …..