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Samadhi: A Novel Inspired by True Events.
Samadhi: A Novel Inspired by True Events.
Samadhi: A Novel Inspired by True Events.
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Samadhi: A Novel Inspired by True Events.

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Pursuing our passion is a kind of ideal that we only dream of, but we make little of. This novel on this theme is inspired by a true story. It encourages reflection and provides inspiration and even a guide to revive your existence.

We follow Jack Lesco, a manager who faces an ethical dilemma and must choose between what is right or his loyalty to his boss. During this dilemma, he receives cryptic messages from a mentor who teaches him about the essence of selfishness and coexistence. Now the ball is in his camp, and he has to decide what to do. These tensions lead to a health crisis. Jack takes a step back from the hustle and bustle of life and searches for what’s really important. He sets out on a journey to Santiago de Compostella and meets a monk who teaches him how to discover what his soul mostly longs for. With this wisdom, Jack takes back his life as the universe opens up to him. These experiences help him find out the four foundations that people need to live a great life.

The story is analogous to works such as “Eat, Pray, Love” and provides support for those who hear the call of their soul but are still caught in the daily grind. The real story prompts the reader to replace routine and pressure with contemplation, self-discovery, and development.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherBalboa Press
Release dateApr 27, 2020
ISBN9781982246440
Samadhi: A Novel Inspired by True Events.
Author

Patrick Verschelde

He is a respected wellbeing coach who helps people achieve their goals, both professionally and personally. With Samadhi, he hopes to express his being as a warrior of light and to touch people with his personal story and his insights.

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    Book preview

    Samadhi - Patrick Verschelde

    Copyright © 2020 Patrick Verschelde.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    Balboa Press

    A Division of Hay House

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.balboapress.com

    1 (877) 407-4847

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

    ISBN: 978-1-9822-4643-3 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-9822-4644-0 (e)

    Balboa Press rev. date: 08/24/2020

    Contents

    Preface

    Acknowledgments

    Work

    Think

    Pray

    Know

    Live

    Be

    A true story inspires this book though I fictionalized characters and events for dramatic effect.

    The unexamined life is not worth living.

    Socrates

    Preface

    P eople have only been able to read for five thousand years. This is a nanosecond in terms of the age of the universe. We are not aware of all the possibilities that humanity has. Sometimes, we call things we do not yet understand miracles, and often, we consider that a lie. I know we all are still full of many possibilities to discover a beautiful life.

    In our lives, we meet different masters who each bring their share of wisdom. We listen to them and even sometimes worship them. But for the most important of all our masters—our own body—we usually have no attention at all.

    Acknowledgments

    I would like to express my very great appreciation to all the writers who have inspired me since I could read. Especially Roger Burggraeve, Julia Cameron, Hugo Claus, Paulo Coelho, Umberto Eco, Kahlil Gibran, Eliyahu M. Goldratt, Hermann Hesse, and James Redfield inspired and guided me on the move. My special thanks are extended to my soul mate, Ann Deman, who, as an artist, encouraged me to be an artist and be myself.

    Work

    T oday is a day like any other, except that a thick layer of snow covers the road on my way to work. I have to focus to not slip off the road in my BMW, but as usual, I have a hard time not letting my thoughts slip to my work. I drive to the company parking lot and glide into my reserved place. Carefully, I cross the road to the company building.

    Good morning, I say to the building caretaker, who faithfully keeps watching with his arms crossed in his glass loft. I get back a gentle nod and a smile.

    I walk up the stairs and then check in with my colleagues to see how the day has started. Through the large stained-glass windows, I see my assistant, Susan, shaking off the snow from her coat. Just like every day, my first job is to check in with her.

    Good morning, I say.

    And a perfect morning to you, she says back, cheerful as a young doe.

    No news? I ask obligately.

    No, not really, except that Harry was looking for you yesterday evening, she says as she gets to her desk and starts her computer.

    Meanwhile, I see the workers passing by, and I also see Harry coming up the stairs. We make eye contact, and immediately, he waves me over.

    Well, keep warm, I joke to Susan before going over to Harry.

    Jack, have you thought about what I told you yesterday morning? Harry asks nervously. You could describe Harry as a teddy-bear man: big, good-natured, and always smiling. When we call on him for one malfunction or another, his standard answer is Relax. There are no problems—only opportunities. Therefore, it is weird to see him so tense now. Usually, he is calm, but apparently, he is losing his cool.

    I have not really had much time, I say. I’m just glad I got here with all this snow. I smile while I try to use humor to bring the situation to its correct proportions.

    Yes, right, he says. It’s early in the year, and because nobody expected snow, we did not clear the parking lot. He obviously thinks I am trying to reprove him, which is certainly not the case.

    Don’t worry, I say. This is probably not what you want to talk about. Come; let’s walk to my office. It’s easier to talk there, instead of in the middle of the hall.

    We walk up the long corridor to production, where my office is situated. The passage is like a backbone that connects the various departments. The closer we get to the weaving department, the heart of the company, the more the cadence of the looms penetrates and determines the atmosphere.

    As I step into my office, I hang my coat on the coatrack, invite Harry to sit, turn on my computer, and check the heating. Can you once again explain the situation? I ask while I rub my hands together.

    Well, as you know, I am looking for a new mechanic. Yesterday, I got a short phone call from George, who said that he knows someone and that I have to recruit that person.

    From George, our big boss? I joke to relieve the tension.

    Yes, he answers in earnest.

    Harry, do you know his candidate? I ask.

    No, not at all, he says while he looks at me strangely.

    And did you explain to George that you want to see that person first before you hire him? I try to say gently.

    But of course, he says, kind of agitated as if he thinks I don’t take him seriously. George seemed decided, and I have the impression that he has left me with little choice. Yesterday evening, I actually heard from another mechanic that the guy George is talking about is related to George.

    So … I murmur.

    Suddenly, Harry’s phone rings.

    I’ll come right away, I catch him saying.

    Apparently, two cars have slid against each other in the parking lot. I have to go and have a look, Harry apologetically tells me as he stands up. Can you think about this annoying situation and assist me? he asks me with a worried look.

    As he leaves my office, I hear the compelling tune from my computer announcing that I have a new email.

    Today, only one email, I think, with a big smile.

    When I open the email, I notice I cannot find a sender. There is also no one CCed and no other addressee. I have absolutely no idea from who the message is.

    Another spam message, I think aloud, but a strange feeling comes over me, so I open and read the message.

    What are you doing?

    I reread the email. What are you doing?

    That’s an easy one. I’m the personnel manager at Enosi, a well-known English textile company with 850 employees here in Oldham. For personnel managers, the measure of your job’s prestige is often determined by the number of employees that you are responsible for. In that respect, few others in this sector have an area of action that is as large as mine.

    I do not have time to think any further on this because my phone is ringing.

    Jack, can you come over to George for a second?

    Charlotte, the secretary of the general manager, sounds quite chilly on the other end of the line. She is a devoted employee, a real management assistant with a reputation that goes with that title. Yet I like her. I know she has not had it easy since the previous general manager, Jacob, retired. After twenty-two years of being Jacob’s executive secretary, she now serves George, an ambitious forerunner who has been with the company for six months. George apparently earned his spurs in another company and was brought to Enosi by the current shareholders. Charlotte has not felt comfortable with the switch, and certainly not with the switch in executive style. Jacob was a very calm, warm, understanding person. Shaped by the former family shareholders, he was a top Enosi manager who could put things in perspective and who acted in everyone’s best interest. Last Friday, after a few drinks, Charlotte called George, the hunter. From my point of view, this name is quite correct. He is always looking for situations where he can prove he can lead Enosi in these turbulent times.

    I take my coat and hurry slightly nervously to George’s office situated in a more modern building, which houses Enosi’s administrative and sales services. Unfortunately, the building is literally on the other side of the street. All employees, therefore, speak about the other side when they talk about colleagues who work in this building. As we know, communication loses its impact with each step that we are separated from each other. This situation is not conducive to cooperation among the various departments.

    Arriving at George’s office, I first shake the snow off my coat and then knock on the door.

    Yes. The response sounds coldly from the other side.

    Inside, I find George sitting with Charlotte at a small round table, going through his mail.

    Just a minute, he says briefly without looking at me.

    I keep standing because the table is full of mail, and also, it seems to be the right thing to do. After some minutes, Charlotte takes the papers and makes a place for me to sit down at the table.

    Jack, George says firmly while he pretends to read one of the letters he just got from Charlotte. Good news. I have a candidate for the function of a maintenance mechanic.

    Carefully, I raise my eyebrows. I nod gently but keep silent. Once, in a management course, I learned silence is louder than the opposition.

    Yes, George continues. I have his application letter right here. He is called Thomas Wilson, and as you soon will read in his résumé, he fully meets the profile description. I have already informed Harry about him. So I suggest you see Thomas for a contract discussion and bring him in as soon as possible.

    Surprised as I am by this abruptness, I stay silent as an act of resistance. George is not aware of or even interested in my thoughts about this situation, and he slides his chair back to leave the table. I stay seated in silence. George now looks up in amazement.

    What’s up, Jack? Is there something wrong?

    I do not know if this is a good decision, George, I say, somewhat shakily. Now, I feel like a teddy-bear man. I know that George is a man who is used to getting his way. It also occurs to me that George will decide if I get a raise at the end of this year.

    Not a good decision? George replies in astonishment. The man perfectly meets the profile, and I talked to Harry about it! What the hell?

    Still, I’m not convinced that this is the way to go, George, I reply with a trembling voice. Undoubtedly, the man meets the objective criteria, and you probably discussed this with Harry. However, I am not convinced that this would be a good thing to do.

    Even though it is snowing outside, I get hot. I clearly see that George is fading, but his eyes are going crazy. He is obviously not used to getting this kind of feedback from a subordinate.

    I do not see any reason not to recruit Thomas, George says as he forces himself to calm down. He laughs contemptuously.

    Have you ever thought about how Harry should feel about this? I carefully respond. He is looking for an employee who will support him without any question or resistance. And as Thomas would be an employee indicated by you, the big boss, I am not convinced that this would always be the case.

    George looks at me, perplexed.

    Think about how Thomas will be perceived by both Harry and the other maintenance technicians, I continue without showing fear this time.

    At this very moment, Leo, the head bookkeeper, puts his head around the office door.

    George, I have an urgent matter here. Do you have a spare minute?

    I’ll call you to discuss this later in the day, George says to me without giving me a further look and gestures I can go.

    Do you want to take along your mail? Charlotte calls to me from her desk. And Harry’s too?

    Seconds later, I do not know where I am anymore.

    The whirling snowflakes and the little walk to my office make the adrenaline inside me go back to a more reasonable level. But when I arrive at my desk, my heart is still beating fast, I’m confused and worried, and my mind goes crazy. Why did I do that? Finding a maintenance technician is not easy at all. Would it be so bad to recruit George’s relative?

    When I sit at my desk, I notice a new email has arrived, again without any notion of its sender. What’s going on here?

    I click to open the email.

    The only certainty on which we can base our actions is the knowledge that nothing remains the same. And you, what are you doing?

    Still impressed by my struggle with George, I reply briefly, as I do to most of my emails:

    Annoying my boss.

    Send.

    * * *

    What am I doing? I wonder while I walk up the stairs to the top floor of the building. That’s where the editorial board for our company magazine Warp & Woof will come together in a short while. Colleagues from different departments will decide on the articles for the next edition.

    I’m early, but I already take a coffee. While I stare at the idyllic snowy landscape as the inland vessels follow the river, I lose myself in a daydream.

    In days gone by, here grew, as far as you can see, flax on the banks, and now, not much of it is left. In its stead, you see buildings overtaking the banks year by year. When I started at Enosi, everything was much simpler and more evident. The landscape was open and free; just as in the company, we all spoke the same language and obeyed the same rules. As long as you performed the known rituals, you were safe. We formed a close-knit community. And when others came to the company, we were careful, because they were foreigners who did not belong to our group—strangers, we could figuratively undress or enslave. If we succeeded at this, we sometimes even celebrated with champagne.

    Over the years, however, we have come to understand that all suppliers and customers are also real people. Eventually, we started calling them partners, even though they have different habits than we do, and they do not always understand us. Though we have learned to set up masks and let the outside world in a while wearing our costumes. We have several actors in our company who now each play their own part. One is aggressive toward the

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