Your Space in my Blog : 18th June of 2009

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How to observe the flight of the arrow

Paulo Coelho

The arrow is intention projected into space.
Once it is fired, there is nothing left for the archer to do except accompany its path towards the target. From that moment on, the tension necessary for the shot has no more reason to exist.
The archer therefore keeps his eyes fixed on the flight of the arrow, but his heart is at rest and he smiles.
At that moment, if he has trained enough, if he has managed to develop his instinct, if he has maintained his elegance and concentration throughout the whole process of the shot, then he will feel the presence of the universe and hw will see that his action was fair and deserved.
Technique makes both hands always ready, breathing always precise, eyes able to fix on the target. Instinct makes the moment of the shot perfect.
Whoever passes by and sees the archer with his arms open and his eyes following the arrow will fancy that he is stopped. But the allies know that the mind of the one who fired the arrow has changed dimension and is now in contact with the entire universe: the mind goes on working, learning everything of a positive nature that the shot has brought, correcting any mistakes, accepting his qualities, and waiting to see how the target reacts when it is struck.
When the archer stretches the string, he can see the whole world inside his bow. When he accompanies the flight of the arrow, this world comes close to him, caresses him and makes him relish the perfect sensation of having fulfilled his duty.
A Warrior of Light, after fulfilling his duty and transforming his intention into gesture, need fear no more: he has done what he had to do. He has not allowed himself to be petrified by fear, for even if the arrow fails to reach its target, he will have another opportunity, because he has not been a coward.

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Bookstore in Ontario, Canada by Nancy

nancy

Thank you Nancy!

If you pass by a bookstore and you happen to have a camera on you, please take a picture and send an email to : image@paulocoelhoblog.com. Thank you!
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Your story in my Blog – “Days are never the same” by Candie Bracci

“Running through my veins the sweet poison of love
That can transform a crow into a dove
Burning the incandescent flower
That can transform a thought into power
Feeling the scars drawn into your heart
That can tranform a road into a map
Welcoming the one you really are
That will transform a stone into a star”

He stared at those words hanging on the wall,written here on a huge painting.He didn’t know what to think about it.He was trying to marry the words together.He married « love » with « dove » but then thought that « love » would go better with « scars »,and with « poison » or « incandescent ».He was today in a strange mood.A sarcastic one.He realised that he has been standing up in front of that painting for about twenty minutes now and nothing had happened.Usually he would be transported by the painting.Thoughts will come into his head and new ideas to developp but today,nothing.Empty.He thought about going to get a coffee…

As he turned his back from the painting,he felt like someone was pulling his shirt.He turned to see what would remain in his memory for the rest of his life.The words on the painting had been removed and been replaced by new ones.He could read now: « sometimes,the best way to achieve things is just to stop thinking about getting them. »He smiled and was now able to marry the word « love » with « star ».

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Quote of the day

Paulo Coelho

Thinking about the small things is not the same as thinking small.
(Manual of the Warrior of Light)

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Today’s Question by the reader : Betsy

I do have one question about your book The Alchemist. The person who referred it to me is a LT. Col. in an Army over in Pakistan and said how you discribed the desert life was very much so. How did you know? Was it through experience? Curious… He has read the book 10 times now.

I had been to Egypt before writing The Alchemist. But to be honest with you much of the inspiration for the description of the desert came to me from tales of the Desert Priests, the Bible and of course Arabic tales.
Truth can be easily recognised as long as your heart is open to it. Hence of the miracle of literature – and my constant effort in letting myself be guided by it.