serenity

It has been my habit when I crossed the ocean-and I have been on both the Pacific and the Atlantic oceans many times-when a storm came up, or we appeared to be in danger from ice or any other cause-to watch the captain of the ship. I noted his demeanor, and I thought that by it I could form a correct idea of our danger. He knew, probably better than anyone else about our position and our danger, and therefore I took pleasure in watching him. And so it is in regard to the work of God. . . . It is my privilege to have all the gifts and blessings resting down upon me by virtue of my calling. If I am faithful thereto they will rest upon me. But it is not my privilege to guide the ship. . . . In times of danger, whatever my own feelings may be, . . . I always look . . . to the man whom God has placed to preside over his people. I watch him. I know that it is for him to direct the movements of the crew of the Ship Zion. It is for him to direct how she shall be steered, so far as human power is necessary for this purpose. When there are no tremors in him, when there are no indications of fear on his part, when he feels serene and confident, I know that I can do so with the utmost safety, and that this entire people can trust in that God who has placed a prophet, a seer, and a revelator to preside over his people upon the earth.

Only those who know the supremacy of the intellectual life can understand the grief of one who falls from that serene activity into the absorbing soul-wasting struggle with worldly annoyances.

It is the great mystery of human life that old grief passes gradually into quiet, tender joy. The mild serenity of age takes the place of the riotous blood of youth. I bless the rising sun each day, and, as before, my heart sings to meet it, but now I love even more its setting, its long slanting rays and the soft, tender, gentle memories that come with them, the dear images from the whole of my long, happy life-and over all the Divine Truth, softening, reconciling, forgiving! My life is ending, I know that well, but every day that is left me I feel how my earthly life is in touch with a new infinite, unknown, but approaching life, the nearness of which sets my soul quivering with rapture, my mind glowing and my heart weeping with joy.

There is no place for fear among men and women who Almighty, who do not hesitate to humble themselves in seeking divine guidance through prayer. Though persecutions arise, though reverses come, in prayer we can find reassurance, for God will speak peace to the soul. That peace, that spirit of serenity, is life's greatest blessing. .

Prayer is a force as real as terrestrial gravity. As a physician, I have seen men, after all other therapy had failed, lifted out of disease and melancholy by the serene effort of prayer. Only in prayer do we achieve that complete and harmonious assembly of body, mind and spirit which gives the frail human reed its unshakable strength.

The true men of old were not afraid when they stood alone in their views. No great exploits. No plans. If they failed, no sorrow. No self-congratulation in success. . . . The true men of old knew no lust for life, no dread of death. Their entrance was without gladness, their exit, yonder, without resistance. Easy come, easy go. They did not forget where from, nor ask where to, nor drive grimly forward fighting their way through life. They took life as it came, gladly; took death as it came, without care; and went away, yonder. Yonder! They had no mind to fight Tao. They did not try by their own contriving, to help Tao along. These are the ones we call true men. Minds free, thoughts gone. Brows clear, faces serene.

Arguna: Of those steadfast devotees who love you and those who seek you as the eternal formless Reality, who are the more established in yoga? Krishna: Those who set their hearts on me and worship me with unfailing devotion and faith are more established in yoga. As for those who seek the transcendental Reality, without name, without form, contemplating the Unmanifested, beyond the reach of thought and of feeling, with their senses subdued and mind serene and striving for the good of all beings, they too will verily come unto me. Yet hazardous and slow is the path to the Unrevealed, difficult for physical man to tread. But they for whom I am the supreme goal, who do all work renouncing self for me and meditate on me with single-hearted devotion, these I will swiftly rescue from the fragment's cycle of birth and death, for their consciousness has entered into me.

For relationships, too, must be like islands. One must accept them for what they are here and now, within their limits - islands surrounded and interrupted by the sea, continuously visited and abandoned by the tides. One must accept the serenity of the winged life, of ebb and flow, of intermittency.