domingo, 18 de octubre de 2015

Meditation...

A middle-aged woman goes to a travel agent in New York and asks for a ticket to New Delhi in India. The agent tells her there are no tickets available at the time, but she insists and pleads repeating again and again, “I have to see my guru! I have to see my guru!” till she finally gets the ticket. On arrival in India she is advised to see the Taj Mahal or Delhi or Goa or any of the well-known tourist places, but she insists: “I want to see my guru!” When she reaches the monastery ruled by the guru in question she is told that she will only be able to approach him, ask him a short question, listen to his answer and withdraw at once. She agrees, waits, approaches the guru who is in deep meditation with his eyes closed, and says in his ear: “Johnny, my son, leave all this nonsense and come home with me.” Mother knows.

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