Thirteen Clues For The Beginning Mind: Stories Of Inner Truth

By Linda Pearce

The inspirational tales in this book come from a rich tradition of story-telling that has its roots in the ancient beginnings of spirituality. Because they explore a variety of cultures, westerners and easterners may respond to different stories.
The majority are east Indian and therefore culturally Hindu, but there are also some Muslim stories, some that are purely fables, some that are completely areligious, and some that are Christian.
These stories were profoundly inspired by the spirit and teachings of Sathya Sai Baba. Although he is/was a religious figure, there is no particular religious agenda being propounded here. The stories simply elucidate the deep truth that underlies all the great religions and spiritual movements.
A final word: these tales can be fruitfully used as a basis for meditation. Each of them reveals deeper meanings when subjected to careful thought and a kind of loving analysis. They are sent with love to all who read them. Indeed, they are meant to increase the amount of love in the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linda Pearce
• Release date: Mar 9, 2013
• ISBN: 9780968399736

Linda Pearce

Linda S. Pearce has worked in the high-tech industry for over twenty years and is active in the animal rescue community. The two met at a renaissance faire and fell in love immediately. They are now married and live in Seattle with six dogs and two cats. They are also the authors of the fantasy novel, Diaries of a Dwarven Rifleman.

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Thirteen Clues for the Beginning Mind:

Stories of Inner Truth

Linda Pearce

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PUBLISHED BY:

Linda Pearce on Smashwords

Second, Revised Version

Copyright © 2013 by Linda Pearce

All rights reserved

ISBN 978-0-9683997-3-6 (digital edition)

Thank you for downloading this ebook. Although this is available online, it remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission from the author. Quotes used in reviews are the exception. No alteration of content is allowed. If you enjoyed this book, then encourage your friends to download their own copy.

Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

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My deepest thanks to all of the early readers of this book for their interest and comments:

Anne S, Barb P, Deb E, Eileen B, Madeline M, Mike P, Nosheen A-M, Raj B, Susan K and Susan S.

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This book is dedicated, with my eternal gratitude,

to Sathya Sai Baba,

whose spirit still informs the world.

Namaste

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Table of Contents

INTRODUCTION

TALES FROM INDIA

1. The Arborist

2. The goodness yet to come

3. King of the Dead

4. In hope of love’s return

5. Lord of the soul

6. Why wait?

7. Mastering the serpent

8. The sadness of the world

9. Sarabinda

10. What children do

11. Jacaranda

12. Not sick

TALES FROM THE MIDDLE EAST

13. All is dust

14. Stone cold

15. The sniper

16. The poppy

TALES FROM THE WESTERN WORLD

17. The rose

18. To be quiet

19. Liberty of mind

20. The cure for blindness

21. The toy shop

22. Even a dog

23. Punishment

TALES FROM ANYWHERE

24. The ribbon

25. Thirteen clues for the beginning mind

26. Sweet current of delight

27. Seek me not in the form of things

TALES FROM THE CHRISTIAN WORLD

28. The presence

29. Life returning to its ground

FABLES

30. The impasse

31. The thief of time

32. The cage is life itself

33. Heaven’s web

ASK YOURSELF: A POEM

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

INTRODUCTION

The stories told here are in the nature of a spiritual bazaar. One can wander among them, picking and choosing whatever appeals at that particular moment, savoring those that make the heart feel open and warm. They are meant, above all things, to increase the amount of love in the reader – indeed, the amount of love in the world. If you are unmoved when you read them, put the book down until some day in the future when it may call to you.

These tales come from a rich tradition of story-telling that has its roots in the ancient beginnings of spirituality. They are not exclusively oriental in their outlook, but their source is oriental, having chosen I suppose to reveal itself through a variety of cultural norms. For this reason, westerners and easterners may respond to different stories.

The majority are east Indian and therefore culturally Hindu, but there are also some Muslim stories, some that are purely fables, some that are completely areligious, and some that are Christian.

While I was writing these stories, I was profoundly inspired by the spirit and teachings of Sathya Sai Baba. Although he is/was a religious figure, there is no particular religious agenda being propounded here. The stories simply elucidate the deep truth that underlies all the great religions and spiritual movements.

A final word: these tales can be fruitfully used as a basis for meditation. Each of them reveals deeper meanings when subjected to careful thought and a kind of loving analysis. They are sent with love to all who read them.

Linda Pearce.

2001-2013

Tales from India

1

THE ARBORIST

A topiary is any living plant that has been pruned or clipped into either a geometric shape, or more often, the shape of an animal. Why would anyone make such a thing? Usually because it appeals to their sense of humor and their sense of wonder, or because they are trying to send a message of some kind.

One day in the years when intelligence flowed straight from plants and animals to men, an Indian boy wandered along a row of eight colocasia bushes that had been trimmed into the shape of elephants. Marveling at how perfectly they had been formed, the boy passed his hand through the leaves that formed the trunks and heads of the great green beasts, and he wondered who had sculpted them. As he touched them, it seemed to him that one of the trunks swayed toward him, so he stopped and looked at it with disbelief. Sure enough, the trunk was moving backward and forward in a way that a plant could never do. He noticed that this bushy elephant had one broken tusk.

The boy seemed to know that he should climb onto the trunk, so he did, and he was instantly lifted up very high onto the top of the bush. As he settled onto its back, it suddenly transformed to become the hard and rumpled back of a real grey elephant, and the huge feet began to move slowly forward, away from the line of the other elephant-bushes.

The boy was astonished. He grasped one of the great ears to make himself feel more secure, and he said to himself, but not out loud, Who is this creature?

The great ears flapped, so that he nearly lost his grip, and the trunk came up. I am Ganesh, came the answer. I am the animal life of the world.

The boy said, I’ve heard of Ganesh. He’s the elephant-headed god, but he has the body of a boy, so you cannot be he. Besides, he lived a long time ago.

The elephant moved slowly along, placing its great feet daintily on the path it was following. I do have the body of a boy, he said to the boy. "Your body."

The boy laughed. Don’t be silly. I am only sitting on you. I’m not your body.

You are part of me, root and branch, came the answer, and a green tendril curled up from between the magnificent ears. The boy reached over and touched the newly curling leaves that were wending their way toward him. How could a plant be growing from an animal? The boy became so confused that his whole world seemed to flip, and suddenly he found himself placing his own huge feet on the path, moving without effort along the high grassy edge of a ravine. He lifted his trunk and let out a soft snort. On his back he could feel a tiny weight, so light it was hardly perceptible. He stood still and looked down into the ravine, flapping his ears instinctively to cool himself off.

The boy’s consciousness was exactly as it had been when it was encased in the small human body; now it simply controlled a different body. He thought, Where then has the elephant’s mind gone?

The tiny weight on his back moved a little and said, The boy is the elephant. The elephant is the boy.

Are you Ganesh, then, or am I Ganesh? asked the boy-now-elephant.

The elephant-now-boy laughed out loud. Are you a god? he said. Can you do god things?

I can transform myself into an elephant, answered the boy-now-elephant wittily.

So you can, answered the elephant-now-boy. But what is your mission? Why did you come to the earth? Every god has a purpose for being here.

"I hadn’t thought of that. What has your mission been?"

I am the remover of obstacles. I am the patron of writers and scribes. I have come to conquer the demons of lust, anger, greed, delusion, vanity, envy, desire and pride.

In my village, answered the boy-now-elephant after a little thought, you have not succeeded.

True enough. There are many people who need to come to me.

They won’t recognize you in the skin you’re in, said the boy-now-elephant. I think you should switch back with me. Although you should do something about this broken tusk. What happened to it, anyway?

Long story, came the answer. In the end, I used it to write the great Hindu epic called The Maha-bharata. Oh, and once I threw it at the moon, but I repented later.

I think you need help. I would like to help you. What can I do?

You could give me your head, was the reply.

You’ve pretty well got it already, don’t you? And anyway, what would become of me? You’d go your way with my boy body and your elephant head, and I’d be left with my boy head and your elephant body – not a happy match for me.

Cumbersome, agreed the elephant-now-boy. Yet how am I to perform my mission? How remove the obstacles that keep man from attaining his highest potential? The elephant-now-boy paused. I think if you love your village, you must give me your body. I will not say that you will be revered for it, for that would merely tempt your ego.

The boy-now-elephant stood for a very long time deep in thought. Because he was sure Ganesh was asking him to die, this was a bitterly hard choice for him to make – to live and perhaps accomplish nothing of worth, or to die and so align himself with the great work of the god. The sun rose and fell three times before he finally decided to give Ganesh his body. At the moment he made his decision, the boy-now-elephant opened his mouth and let out a trumpeting noise so loud that it shattered the peace of the entire land. Birds flew from their branches, foxes overturned in mid-stride, waters reversed their courses. After the noise had reverberated to the very ends of the earth, it slowly began to die away. Then he told Ganesh his decision.

I have found my human self, said Ganesh. Go your way in peace, young master. For you have conquered all the sins I spoke about, and I do not need your sacrifice, for I am quite capable of creating my own body.

With that, the boy was returned to his own form, and, before him, seated on the ground, was indeed the great god Ganesh, with a human body and a beautiful elephant head. The god had four arms. One hand was raised in the mudra that gives protection, while another was in the pose that provides plenty to his worshipers. His third hand held an elephant goad and his fourth a noose.

The boy sat at Ganesh’s feet and learned