Prisoners

It's easy to love and like people who are like you. It is not as easy to love and like people who are different. So, if we love someone who is different, isn't that a greater love than loving someone who is like us?

Is loving people who are like us really all that admirable? It is doing the difficult things that are admirable. Loving someone who loves you and always treats you nicely and fairly is so easy, loving someone who makes your life challenging is not usually easy.

Since this seems to be the case with so many people I wonder if we really do know what love is.

Isn't love seeing God in everyone? God created us all from the same dust.

And what about serving others? Should we only serve people and help people that we really like? Or should we serve anyone and everyone, even our enemies or people who wish us harm?

Here's a true story for you about a man named 'Abdu'l-Baha, also known as The Master:
When the Master came to Akka (as a prisoner) there lived there a certain man from Afghanistan, an austere and rigid Musselman. To him the Master was a heretic. He felt and nourished a great enmity towards the Master, and roused up others against him. When opportunity offered in gatherings of the people, as in the Mosque, he denounced him with bitter words.
"This man," he said to all, is an imposter. Why do you speak to him? Why do you have dealings with him?" And when he passed the Master on the street he was careful to hold his robe before his face that his sight might not be defiled.
Thus did this Afghan. The Master, however, did thus: The Afghan was poor and lived in a Mosque, he was frequently in need of food and clothing. The Master sent him both. These he accepted, but without thanks. He fell sick. The Master took him a physician, food, medicine, money. These also he accepted, but as he held out one hand that the physician might take his pulse, with the other he held his cloak before his face that he might not look upon the Master. For twenty-four years the Master continued his kindnesses and the Afghan persisted in his enmity. Then at last one day the Afghan came to the Master's door, and fell down, penitent and weeping, at his feet.
"Forgive me, sir!" he cried. "For twenty-four years I have done evil to you, for twenty-four years you have done good to me. Now I know that I have been in the wrong."
The Master bade him rise and they became friends.

'Abdu'l-Baha, though a prisoner for forty years, was certainly not a prisoner of self. My goal, however far away it might be, is to free myself from the prison of self.

If it was easy, though, it wouldn't be admirable. And once freed from the prison of self I won't need or want admiration anyway. Interesting paradox there.

I would like to leave this blog in honor of the 7 Baha'i prisoners in Iran who, after being imprisoned for over two years now, arrested on false charges, are awaiting a verdict that could change or even end their lives.

God bless them and you!

Unusual

Unusual event: a young guy complemented me on my goddess earrings today, said he liked them.

Unusual feeling: loneliness coming home today

Unusual dinner: frozen pizza with eggplant and no cheese

Unusual blog