A Weekly Series of Riffs in 200 Words
There are times when we allow others to get us down and, at such times, I try to remember the Sanskrit word Namaskara which roughly translates to ‘I salute the divine in you’ or ‘I salute the inner beauty in you.’
There are people who, despite outward appearances, seem to have little or no inner beauty and who cause the hackles to rise, notwithstanding our heroic efforts to think good thoughts about them.
In such cases, it is wise to take a deep breath, plant one’s tongue firmly between one’s teeth and recite this tiny piece of irreverent humour from Italian philosopher and educator Piero Ferrucci:-
Independently of the fact that you irritate me, that I can’t stand your presence, that I feel uneasy when I am with you, that I disagree with you, that I find myself believing you are a hopeless slob, and so on and so forth, I salute the inner beauty in you – a beauty which I may have perceived at some time or, if I never perceived it, deliberately assume is there – mysterious, immemorial, unaffected by any games we may at this moment be playing, infinite.
It is my mantra for the rest of 2011.
The answer to Friday’s Fictionary Dictionary is…a wooden dwelling covered with earth, typical of the Navaho Indians