Theophane, the monk, tells the story of a man who, after great seeking, finds someone who can give him the "pearl of great price"— that which is of infinite value to him. He asks his benefactor, You mean rather than keep it for yourself, you'll just give it to me?" The man answers, "Is it better to keep the pearl of great price or to give it away?" The seeker now has the pearl, but he is haunted by the question: is it better to keep the pearl of great price or to give it away. And he concludes, "How long will I let this question rob me of my joy?" Even when we receive great gifts in life and are a success in the eyes of the world, if we are too indecisive, we reap no joy from our achievements. We all get stuck at times in 'should I or shouldn't I?' When we decide to trust our deepest intuition and act from our hearts from the highest we know and understand, then we begin to trust life to take care of us. And joy is the fruit of our action as we entrust ourselves to our life. 

There's a story of the frog and the kettle. A frog is put into a kettle of water and flame is put on at a very low temperature. Since the water gets hot only very slowly, the frog hardly notices the heat until it is too late. So with our life. When things aren't working in some area of our life, we may become so complacent that we let them continue not to work so long that what began as a minor disturbance becomes, in time, a major problem. It is helpful to catch problems earlier rather than later, be they health, relationship, work or financial issues. We don't have to be afraid to face things squarely as they are. The way of wisdom is to make a decision to act with full consciousness to redirect what isn't working into the way that does work. Don't wait to see if it will get better; make it better now. Change your problem into a solution now. 

Herman Melville once wrote a story called "Bartleby the Scrivener" about a man who reached the extreme of what we now call burn-out. Bartleby worked in an office as a scrivener, or a person who copied manuscripts. But, eventually, Bartleby would just stare at the wall by his desk all day, without doing anything. When asked to do something, Bartleby would answer, "I would prefer not to," and he would continue to just stare at the wall. Sometimes, when we are feeling burned-out in our jobs or our relationships, we may find ourselves, like Bartleby, preferring not to. But we really can't opt out of our life. We have chosen to be responsible and to fulfill our obligations even when, at times, we would prefer not to. We are each in this life to share ourselves with our world. Even in monasteries and ashrams, people live in relationship with each other. While we all do need times of solitude for rest and soul-searching, we also need to be connected with each other, fulfilling our roles and responsibilities in this life. 

Are we ready? Are we willing? Are we able? Our life is filled with choices. Decisions— large and small— are a part of our life experience on this earth. A sage once asked someone, "How long will you stay immobilized in indecision?" Sometimes we are afraid to make a decision because we are afraid of making a mistake, or we want to be sure that all the facts are in or we are waiting for unerring guidance. Sartre says that when we go to someone for advice regarding a decision, we pick someone whose advice agrees with what we want to do anyway. So we already know in many cases what to do. We just want someone to assume some of the responsibility for our decision. Or we may wait, as Alan Watts says, until the absolutely last moment and let circumstances or mental exhaustion force us into a decision. Yet we can also relax and let our decisions come with joy and openness of heart. We can let go of fear and let our decision-making be the joyous adventure into the unknown it really is. 

Norman Vincent Peale tells a story about two frogs who accidentally jumped into a pitcher of cream. Try as they might, neither of the frogs was able to jum p back out; whenever they tried to leap up over the walls of the pitcher, they would simply slide and wallow in the cream. They couldn't get any traction or solid foundation for their leap to freedom. Finally, in utter despair, one frog gave up trying and began to sink into the cream. The other frog, realizing that this was a sink or leap situation, mustered all of his courage and strength and integrity and began whirling his feet in the cream. Soon his feet were like little pistons moving at incredible speed; the momentum began to churn the cream into foam and then into butter. When the slippery cream had hardened into butter, both frogs had the solid traction with which to launch their leap into freedom. You too can churn your slippery situation into solidity for the great leap to freedom. 

The first time I ate tempura was in a small Japanese restaurant in San Francisco. The fried shrimp and vegetables were so delicious, that I asked the waitress for the recipe. She said, "First you must spend five years sweeping the kitchen and washing dishes. Then, if you show promise, you spend more years learning to select and prepare the ingredients. Then, if you show much promise— in another five or ten years, you will be permitted to learn the recipe for the dish. Usually it takes about twenty years." I said, "Thanks, but I'll just come to the restaurant when I want tempura." Often we forget that any kind of excellence in life requires a long apprenticeship. We are here, in this world, to develop our unique gift and to allow all the maturation necessary for that gift to be revealed in the fullness and ripeness of time. Don't get impatient: let your gift, talent or skill develop in its own right way. 

I have a saying that we need to be willing to chop the onions on our way to Nirvana— which means: we must be willing to do whatever is necessary for us to find our freedom and fulfillment in this life. Sometimes we think that if we just sit around and wait, things will automatically happen for us; this may be ultimately so, but natural evolution may take a long time; we may get tired of waiting and decide to help the process along by doing something. There's a story about a man sitting in a cave praying for a suntan. No matter how hard he prays, nothing happens until he decides to step outside and put himself in right relationship with the way in which his prayer can be answered. 

A prominent religious figure was once asked how he handled criticism. He replied, "Badly." Whenever we are doing anything beyond the norm of this life, we are subject to criticism by somebody. Yet all great creators in every field of life have had to overcome the criticism of their peers to create something of lasting value for humanity. Johann Sebastian Bach was considered a second-rate musician and composer by the critics of his day, who considered his sons to be superior to their father. James Joyce's Ulysses, when it was first published, was panned by many critics as an 'incomprehensible' work. There is always the risk that we will be criticized, and perhaps even condemned whenever we try something new and different. Yet human endeavor has always benefited from those great innovators who were willing to give their gift to the world, regardless of criticism. Perhaps we need our critics to spur us forward to ever greater acts of sharing our creative vision. As Rilke said, "Perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave. 

Peter De Vries once said, "I love being a writer. What I can't stand is the paperwork." There's an old saying, "God is in the details," meaning that we discover the highest spiritual truth in the midst of fulfilling our responsibilities in the everyday world. A kitchen was once being remodeled in a Zen monastery. The woman who was doing the remodeling remarked to the Zen Master, "Everything is completed, except for a few details." The Zen Master responded in a puzzled tone, "The details?— that's all there is, is details." Sometimes we want to escape the details of our ordinary life. Yet it is within the details that we find our deepest realization and enlightenment. So let's not neglect the details in favor of something more important. When we are completely focused on the details of our life, we realize that the details themselves are the path to our enlightenment. Your work in the world is the way of your spiritual fulfillment. 

There once was a parrot who only knew three words: "Who is it?" One day a visitor called at the house when no one was home except the parrot. The man rang the door bell. From within the house, the parrot said, "Who is it?" "It's the plumber," the man said. "You called me because your pipes broke, and your basement was flooded." "Who is it?" the parrot cried. "It's the plumber— I tell you," the man shouted. "Who is it?" "It's the plumber!" the man screamed. Finally he became so upset that he fainted by the front door of the house. A neighbor, who happened by, saw the man lying by the front door, rushed up to the house, looked down at the man and asked, "Who is it?" The parrot answered, "It's the plumber!" Sometimes situations in our life seem to be saying to us "Who is it?" And we may be wasting time and energy in a frustrated attempt to explain ourselves. We may need to proceed on our way without trying to give every situation we encounter an explanation of who we are and what we are about in this life. 

A son once sent his mother for her birthday a talking bird that spoke five languages. He paid $500.00 for this extraordinary bird. A day later he called and asked his mother how she liked the bird. "Delicious," she said. The son screamed, "You ate the bird! That was a talking bird; I paid $500.00 for that bird. It spoke five languages." "So why didn't it say something when I put it in the oven?" the mother replied. Sometimes we take it for granted that people will understand our intentions and will respond accordingly. But people have their own way of seeing reality, and their viewpoint may not be quite the same as ours. What is important to us may not be so important to them. It is always helpful to communicate clearly with others about our concerns so that they understand us. Clarity in relationships helps us avoid unnecessary confusion and misunderstanding. When we speak our mind clearly, others are likely to respond in kind, and genuine communication occurs. 

Sometimes we feel as if we are suffering from the doldrums of escalating inertia. No matter how much we do or how hard we try, we feel, in T.S. Eliot's words, like a "patient etherized upon a table." The way to break free from this feeling of ennui is to make a commitment to ourselves to begin to take action in some new areas of our life. What simple things have we left undone? Sometimes we can't reach a new level until we've completed our work at the present level. Make a list of necessary things that need our attention— things we have postponed completing— and complete them, quickly, without complaining, obsessing or procrastinating. As we do what is set before us, there's a moment when our inertia melts into energy, vitality and joyous enthusiasm, and we are set free. 

A Hasidic rabbi was once asked what he did before he prayed. He said "I pray that I might pray." Preparation is an important, even crucial, step in our calling in this life. Most of us spend many years equipping ourselves for our life work. James Joyce, as part of his self-training as a writer, became a skilled linguist. Even though English was his medium of expression, he became proficient in half a dozen or so other languages. At one point, he even learned Norwegian so he could read Ibsen, the great playwright, in the original. Whatever our profession or vocation, we, like James Joyce, can dedicate ourselves to perfecting our skills and mastering our abilities. The better equipped we are in developing our capacities, the more excellent will be our offering to our world. Since we are each here to do something in this life, why not do what we do with great integrity, clarity and precision. 

As Robert Schuller says, "Fail to plan; plan to fail." Sometimes we forget to think ahead, and so we suffer the consequences of our lack of preparation. Two weeks ago, the weather in Albuquerque was so nice, many of us forgot to plan for the weather to change. We thought fall would just become spring and then summer and we forgot that winter comes in there too. Then suddenly there were a flood of panic calls to the gas company to come turn on the heat! "What? I have to wait how long? Oh no— I've blown it again." We find that life is a great teacher. It is helpful and saves much pain and discomfort to plan ahead. In business and in life it is important to have a plan. Goals give meaning and direction to our life and save us needless wear and tear. 

Sometimes we feel so stuck that we are almost paralyzed. At these times, we feel torn by indecision and self-doubt; we feel that we just don't know what to do or even how to begin. But we can only postpone things for so long. One day, through no fault and no virtue of our own, we find ourselves released from our inertia— it happened when we were looking the other way. Suddenly, we discover our freedom to act, to be decisive, to break through the bonds that have held us in place so long. Perhaps something deep inside of us is released, and we are free to spring into action. Or perhaps some outer condition or situation changes, and the change produces a corresponding transformation within us. Regardless of how it happens, inwardly or outwardly, we have the instantaneous realization that we have been released from frustration into fulfillment. We know it, and our joy is made tangible. 

Most of us are repelled by the idea of repetition, yet a good part of our lives is spent in repeating various actions. Most of us brush our teeth upon awakening— many of us even floss. We probably drive to work through the same route every day, and we probably do many of the same routine chores everyday, more or less at the same time and in the same way. We may eat the same kinds of foods and talk in the same tones of voice, day in and day out. We tend to pray, dance, eat, swim, walk, talk, go to the mountains, entertain guests, watch TV or movies or listen to music in pretty much the same manner, year in, year out. We may resist this fact about ourselves and wish it were otherwise, but there is a value to repetition. We become upset when our usual travel route is thwarted or our routine is otherwise disturbed because we feel a kind of order and harmony and balance within our repetitive actions. Allow repetition to smooth your way forward. 

I once lived in a town that had a huge hill right in the center. For many months, everyday, I would push my bicycle up this huge hill to the top, jump on, and go whizzing down the hill, feeling the wind in my face, the joyous momentum of energy building with the speed of the bike. Sometimes we just need to release our brakes, quit holding ourselves back, let ourselves go forward in some area until, like a speeding bike, we gather energy, enthusiasm, momentum, strength and joyous wonder. We're not here to hold ourselves back— let's release our selves and feel the vast energy of the universe coursing through our bloodstream this moment. 

We all know what a workaholic is: someone who overworks or who uses work as a kind of drug. A joy-aholic is someone who approaches his work with joy and enthusiasm. Kahlil Gibran says, "Work is love made visible." We don't have to dread going to work and spend our time daydreaming about our next vacation. The work we are given to do in this life can be a great blessing to us— giving us the opportunity to discover and express our creative gifts to our world. Enzo Ferrari, the great Italian car builder, was once prevailed upon by his family to take a month's vacation. At the end of the first week, Ferrari was discovered back in his garage working feverishly on a new car engine. "This," he said, with joy, "is my vacation." 

There are two kinds of freedom: freedom from what we don't want and freedom to do what we do want. It can be helpful to clarify this distinction because, even though we use the same word 'freedom', what we mean is very different. When we say, "I want to be free," many times we mean we want to be released from a trying and oppressive situation. We say, "If only I could get free from this person or situation, then things would be okay for me." Much of our life, at times, seems to be spent untangling ourselves from oppressive circumstances. Yet there is also freedom to in our life: freedom to be creative, freedom to achieve our goals, freedom to discover and fulfill an ultimate purpose in this life. Thankfully, the great artists, musicians and poets always kept their focus on freedom to— the expression of their creative genius. What a tragedy for humanity if a Bach or Mozart or Picasso had spent his days worrying about the bills or relationships. Perhaps we too need to keep our attention more on what we are creating in this life! Let's be freedom ‘to-ers' too. 

We all go through times of friction and hurt feelings with our friends, loved ones and associates. We carry the pain of a misunderstanding so far; we nurse our grudge, we rehearse our grievance so long, then, one day, we say to ourselves, I really don't want this hurt feeling to damage my relationship with so-and-so any longer, and we drop it. This is forgiveness in action. We may not actually go up to the person and say, "I forgive you for hurting me." We just show him or her by our actions and our attitude that all is well between us. The barrier of pain and hurt, doubt and distrust, has been dissolved, and we are at peace with each other again. We are all masters of forgiveness; this is not something that we don't know how to do. To live in relationship on this earth, we have had to forgive a thousand thousand times all the slights, the misunderstandings, the miscommunications— we all know how and when and why and whom to forgive. So let's remember to ask— when things aren't working for us— who do we need to forgive now? Use the WD-40 of forgiveness to get unstuck now.