Archives for January 2012

30 SEC READING: why do we shout in anger?

A master asked his disciples:
‘Why do we shout in anger? Why do people shout at each other when they are upset?’

the disciples thought for a while, and one of them said
‘Because we lose our calm, we shout for that.’
‘But, why to shout when the other person is just next to you? ‘Isn’t it possible to speak to him or her with a soft voice? Why do you shout at a person when you’re angry?’
The disciples gave him some other answers but none satisfied the master.

Finally he explained:
‘When two people are angry at each other, their hearts distance a lot. To cover that distance they must shout to be able to hear each other. The angrier they are, the stronger they will have to shout to hear each other through that great distance.’

Then the master asked:
‘What happens when two people fall in love? They don’t shout at each other but talk softly, why? Because their hearts are very close. The distance between them is very small…’

And he concluded:
‘When they love each other even more, what happens?
‘They do not speak, only whisper and they get even closer to each other in their love.

‘Finally they even need not whisper, they only look at each other and that’s all. That is how close two people are when they love each other.’

Online Bookstore HERE
Kindle (four languages) HERE


Aleph video (German cover)

Paying 3 times for the same thing

Illustration by Ken Crane

There is a legend in the region of Punjab, about a thief who broke into a farm and stole two hundred onions. But before he could make his escape, he was caught by the farmer and led before the judge.

The magistrate past sentence: the payment of ten gold pieces.
But the man alleged that the fine was too high, so the judge offered him two alternatives: to be whipped twenty times, or eat the two hundred onions.

The thief chose to eat the two hundred onions.
When he had eaten twenty-five, his eyes were already filled with tears, and his stomach was burning up like the fires of hell.
Since there were still 175 to go, and he knew he would never bear this punishment, he begged to be thrashed twenty times.

The judge agreed. But when the whip tore into his back for the tenth time, he implored for the punishment to be stopped, for he could not stand the pain.
His wish was granted, but the thief still had to pay the ten pieces of gold.

– If you had accepted the fine, you would have avoided eating the onions and wouldn’t have suffered with whip – said the judge.

– But you preferred the more difficult path, not understanding that, when you have done wrong, it is better to pay up quickly and forget the matter.

Online Bookstore HERE
Kindle (four languages) HERE


This blog

As you probably noticed in the sidebar, I am going to start a series of podcasts on subjects that are important to me. This first one was not edited – we will have a better edition next week (I hope!)
That said, I would like to hear your opinion on this idea

CoelhoOffice 01 – On writing (I)

Mysteries of Aleph

(research by Alexandra Jequier after reading ALEPH)

The Hebrew alphabet is not simply a collection of abstract linguistic elements, like the English alphabet is. All Hebrew letters have names and identities, and in post-Biblical times were even rendered numerical value.
It is said that they contain the precise plan of the principles of creation. Each letter (or auth) is a crystallization of one of the aspects of manifestation of the divine word. Each letter corresponds to a number

Each letter is thus connected to the creative forces in the universe.

First there are three mother letters, or Immoth: Aleph, Mem and Shin. They form the prime trinity that came from the Divine.
They represent the three dimensions of space. They act as a prism which transforms

The numerical value of Aleph is 111 (Aleph + Lamed + Peh: 1 + 30 + 80 = 111). The number 111 contains the trinity; and it is also the constant of the magic square of six. 111 = 1 + 10 +100.
Symbolically this means that Aleph combines the divine, the spiritual and the physical world.

In Revelation 22:13 Jesus refers to Himself as the Aleph and Tav, the First and the Last

In Or Torah, Rabbi Dov Ber, the Maggid of Mezritch, explained first words of Torah: Bereshit Bara Elohim Et (Gen 1:1). “Note that et is an untranslatable word used to indicate that “a definite direct object is next” (thus there needs to be an et before the heavens and the earth).”
But Dov Ber points out that et is spelled – Aleph-Tav, an abbreviation for the Aleph-Bet. Aleph is the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet. Since God did this before creating the heavens and the earth, the letters are considered to be the primordial building blocks of all of creation.

Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi stated that if the letters were to depart even for an instant, all of creation would become absolute nothingness


Online Bookstore HERE
Kindle (four languages) HERE


1 min reading: the world as a mirror

EM PORTUGUES AQUI: Narciso e o lago
EN ESPANOL AQUI: Narciso y el lago


(below the opening page of “The Alchemist”. May every single day of this new year reflect our joy)

The alchemist picked up a book that someone in the caravan had brought. Leafing through the pages, he found a story about Narcissus.

The alchemist knew the legend of Narcissus, a youth who knelt daily beside a lake to contemplate his own beauty. He was so fascinated by himself that, one morning, he fell into the lake and drowned. At the spot where he fell, a flower was born, which was called the narcissus.

But this was not how Oscar Wilde, the author of the book, ended the story.

He said that when Narcissus died, the goddesses of the forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears.

“Why do you weep?” the goddesses asked.

“I weep for Narcissus,” the lake replied.

“Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus,” they said, “for though we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand.”

“But…was Narcissus beautiful?” the lake asked.

“Who better than you to know that?” the goddesses said in wonder. “After all, it was by your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate himself!”

The lake was silent for some time. Finally, it said:

“I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful.
“I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected.”

“What a lovely story,” the alchemist thought.

HAPPY 2012!

Narciso y el lago

(en el prólogo de “El Alquimista”)

Casi todo el mundo conoce la historia original (griega) sobre Narciso: un bello joven que todos los dí­as iba a contemplar su rostro en el lago. Estaba tan encantado consigo mismo que, cierta mañana, mientras trataba de admirarse más de cerca, cayó al agua y terminó por morir ahogado. En el lugar donde cayó nació una flor, que a partir de entonces se llamó narciso.

El escritor Oscar Wilde, sin embargo, hace que esta historia termine de una manera diferente.
El dice que cuando Narciso murió, vinieron las Oréades -ninfas del bosque-y vieron que el agua dulce del lago se habí­a transformado en lágrimas saladas.

-¿Por qué lloras? -preguntaron las oréades.
-Lloro por Narciso.

-Ah, no nos preocupa que llores por Narciso -continuaron ellas. -Al final de cuentas, a pesar de que todas nosotras siempre corrimos detrás de él por el bosque, tú fuiste el único que tuvo la oportunidad de contemplar de cerca su belleza.

-¿Pero Narciso era bello? -quiso saber el lago.
-¿Quién mejor que tú podrí­a saberlo? -respondieron, sorprendidas, las Oréades. -Al final de cuentas, era en tus márgenes donde él se inclinaba todos los dí­as.

El lago se quedó quieto un momento. Finalmente, dijo:
-Lloro por Narciso, pero jamás habí­a notado que Narciso fuera bello.
“Lloro por él porque cada vez que él se recostaba en mis márgenes, yo podí­a ver, en el fondo de sus ojos, mi propia belleza reflejada”.



Narciso e o lago

(esta história está no prólogo de “O Alquimista”. Que neste novo ano possamos sempre refletir em nós a beleza do que semearmos)

Quase todo mundo conhece a história original (grega) sobre Narciso: um belo rapaz que, todos os dias, ia contemplar seu rosto num lago. Era tí£o fascinado por si mesmo que, certa manhí£, quando procurava admirar-se mais de perto, caiu na água e terminou morrendo afogado.
No lugar onde caiu, nasceu uma flor, que passamos a chamar de Narciso.

O escritor Oscar Wilde, porém, tem uma maneira diferente de terminar esta história. Ele diz que, quando Narciso morreu, vieram as Oréiades – deusas do bosque – e viram que a água doce do lago havia se transformado em lágrimas salgadas.

“Por que vocíª chora?”, perguntaram as Oréiades.
“Choro por Narciso”.

“Ah, ní£o nos espanta que vocíª chore por Narciso”, continuaram elas. “Afinal de contas, todas nós sempre corremos atrás dele pelo bosque, vocíª era o único que tinha a oportunidade de contemplar de perto sua beleza”.
“Mas Narciso era belo?”, quis saber o lago.

“Quem melhor do que vocíª poderia saber?”, responderam, surpresas, as Oréiades. “Afinal de contas, era em suas margens que ele se debruí§ava todos os dias”.

O lago ficou algum tempo quieto. Por fim, disse: “eu choro por Narciso, mas jamais havia percebido que era belo. Choro por ele porque, todas as vezes que ele se deitava sobre minhas margens, eu podia ver, no fundo dos seus olhos, a minha própria beleza refletida”.