The Inner Life

THERE was once in a far-away land a very wise man. So wise was he that the people came from all that country and from distant lands to sit at his feet and catch the pearls of wisdom that fell from his lips. They called him Omar, the Serene; for he seemed to be ageless, living in a spiritual world apart from men, but ever ready to give of his marvelous wisdom to one and all.

One day, as he was sitting under a shady tree reading from a big book, a man dressed in rags, limping along with the help of a staff, came and sat down beside him.

“O, Serene One,” he said, “I have been told that thou art full of wisdom, and art able to help the sick and the needy. Canst heal my joints which have been twisted and are full of pain these many months?”

The sage raised his head from his book, and with piercing, luminous eyes gazed deep into those of the ragged cripple.

“And didst thou leave thy fine raiment and thy riches behind thee in Bagdad, O merchant,” he said, sternly, “for now beggar art thou. Dost think that thou canst trick the Infinite Intelligence that sees all and knows all? Thou dost only trick thyself into pain and misery. Go back from whence thou came, and start living in a manner befitting thy true rank—not that of a rich merchant hoarding his gold pieces, but as a son of the Living God, for whom thou dost act only as a steward. Remember, thou shalt be called to account for thy stewardship! If thou dost persist in clutching thy riches to thyself, thou dost only clog up and bind thine own consciousness and its manifest likeness—thy body.”

“Loose it and let it go.” Thou canst not live to thyself alone, for thou art a living part of the Universal Whole. Go, and give back double to any man whom thou hast swindled. Scatter thy gold, that it may fall as seeds of happiness on fruitful soil, and thou shalt be blessed. As thou doest this, thy joints shall loosen up and straighten themselves, and thou shalt stand erect before thy God in wholeness of mind and body.”

“O, Wise One,” stammered the man with bowed head, “I go to do thy bidding. Wilt give me thy blessing?”

“There is no need for that, my son. Thou dost carry thine own blessing within thee. Loose it and let it go—out to mankind, and thy good works shall return to thee increased a thousandfold.”—Kathleen Winifred Welch.