I	went	over	to	where	he	was	standing. “A	spiderweb?”	I	said. “That’s	right,	and	where	is	the	spider?”	asked	Baba. The	web	was	suspended
between	two	bushes,	and	it	looked	freshly	made	that	morning. “After
finishing	her	web,	the	spider	weaves	one	last	thread. She	follows	it	to	a	hiding
place	and	sits,	holding	tight	to	her	thread. She’s	waiting	for	it	to	vibrate,	and
when	it	does,”	said	Baba,	“she	knows	she’s	caught	her	prey.”
If	I	looked	very	closely,	I	could	just	see	the	thread	he	was	talking	about,
although	I	still	couldn’t	spy	its	weaver. “Now,	what	would	happen	if	you	cut	that	tiny,	nearly	invisible	thread?”	asked
Baba. “She’d	be	cut	off	from	all	her	hard	work.”
“That’s	true,”	I	said,	holding	up	my	hand	with	the	invisible	string	in	it. “But
this	string	doesn’t	lead	anywhere.”“Oh,	yes	it	does,”	said	Baba. “Your	soul	has	woven	that	string. It	leads	to
what	you	want. Stay	connected	to	your	soul	and	you	will	find,	step	by	step,
that	you	are	being	led	to	your	deepest	desires. But	if	you	cut	the	string,	it
leads	nowhere.”
W
HAT
	I	L
EARNED
I	knew	what	Baba	meant	about	the	spiderweb,	but	it	took	a	long	while	to
figure	out	how	my	invisible	string	worked. Like	getting	a	car. Baba	knew	that
I	would	have	to	wait	a	few	years,	take	driving	lessons,	pass	my	test,	and	then
hope	that	my	father	would	help	me	buy	my	own	car. These	steps	followed	one
upon	the	other. Each	step	was	necessary,	and	each	unfolded	in	its	own	time. So	following	the	thread	was	no	problem. Let’s	take	it	a	bit	further. What	about	wishes	that	are	much	harder	to	make
come	true? In	my	family	there	was	an	impossible	dream	that	changed
everybody’s	life,	and	I	will	tell	you	its	story	to	illustrate	how	amazing	a	thread
can	be. Many	years	ago	there	was	a	young	man	from	India	who	wanted	more	than
anything	to	be	a	doctor. He	went	to	school	and	got	his	degree,	but	then	a	war
came	along,	he	went	into	the	army,	and	there	was	no	way	for	him	to	finish	his
studies. As	it	happened,	the	young	man	was	assigned	as	an	aide	to	the	most	important
official	in	the	country,	the	British	viceroy	of	India. When	the	war	was	over,
the	viceroy,	who	had	ruled	over	millions	of	people,	turned	to	his	aide	and
said,	“You’ve	done	me	good	service. Is	there	anything	I	can	do	for	you? Just
ask.”
Without	hesitation	the	young	man	spoke	up. He	wanted	to	be	trained	in
advanced	medicine	alongside	the	British	doctors,	he	said. The	viceroy	granted
him	his	wish,	but	when	he	got	to	the	training	hospital,	everyone	ignored	this
quiet	Indian	who	didn’t	even	belong	there. Day	after	day	he	studied	hard. He
knew	the	answers	to
	every	question,	but	he	was	never	called	on. One	day	the	medical	students	were	trailing	behind	one	of	the	most	famous
British	doctors	as	he	reviewed	his	cases. Senior	doctors	made	rounds	of	the
hospital	wards	every	morning	with	students	in	tow	like	ducklings. They	got	to
a	certain	patient,	and	the	famous	doctor	said,	“Who	can	tell	me	what’s	wrongwith	this	man?”
It	was	a	difficult	case,	and	none	of	the	British	students	volunteered. But	the
young	Indian’s	hand	was	up,	so	he	had	to	be	called	on,	and	he	knew	the	right
answer. After	that	his	teachers	paid	attention	to	him. One	day	the	famous
British	doctor	called	him	into	his	office. “I’m	returning	home	to	England	tomorrow,”	the	famous	doctor	told	him,	“and
you’ve	impressed	me. Is	there	anything	I	can	do	for	you? Just	ask.”
For	the	second	time	in	his	life	the	young	man	saw	that	his	wish	might	come
true. He	asked	to	go	to	London	to	study	how	to	become	a	heart	specialist. Which	is	how	my	father,	Krishan	Chopra,	found	himself	on	a	boat	to	England
and	a	career	as	one	of	India’s	first	heart	doctors. Did	this	chain	of	events	happen	by	accident? Baba	taught	me	not	to	think	that
way	My	father	was	helped	by	his	soul. If	he	remained	true	to	his	wish,	which
came	from	deep	in	his	heart,	there	would	be	a	way	to	make	it	come	true. Everyone	has	wishes	and	dreams,	and	making	them	come	true	is	important. It’s	important	to	your	soul	as	well. But	it	doesn’t	offer	its	help	in	a	loud	voice
—in	fact,	it	doesn’t	give	advice	at	all. Instead	it	sets	out	a	path	that	you	can
follow,	and	thus	you	find,	step	by	step,	that	your	wish	is	beginning	to	unfold
as	reality. When	any	dream	has	come	true	for	me,	I	notice	the	following	stages:
I	asked	inside	for	what	I	wanted. I	was	precise,	and	my	wish	really	meant	something	to	me. I	let	go	of	my	wish	so	that	the	universe	could	compute	how	to	make	it
come	true. In	other	words,	I	got	out	of	the	way. I	didn’t	waste	time	fantasizing	about	the	future. I	looked	for	even	the	smallest	opening	that	showed	the	possibility	of
success. No	opportunity	was	too	small,	and	I	didn’t	hold	back	because
I	was	waiting	for	something	bigger	and	better. I	didn’t	wait	for	a	payoff. If	my	desire	changed	before	it	came	true,
then	I	changed	my	expectations. Not	every	wish	has	to	come	true	as	Iimagine	it. I	wait	for	the	moment	of	fulfillment,	which	says,	“Okay,
that’s	all	I	really	wanted.”
I	looked	for	help	everywhere,	even	in	chance	encounters,	small
coincidences,	and	sudden	openings	I	never	thought	would	come	my
way. I	was	grateful	for	every	small	step	of	accomplishment. All	these	steps	may	sound	a	bit	complicated,	but	they’re	based	on	a	simple
theme:	Your	soul	wants	your	wishes	to
	come	true,	and	it	wants	to	make	the
journey	as	easy	and	natural	as	possible. It	took	many	years	for	me	to	see	that
this	whole	pattern,	from	the	planting	of	a	seed	to	its	final	fruit,	is	all	planned
and	handled	by	my	soul. That’s	why	Baba	considered	the	invisible	string	to	be
one	of	the	best-kept	secrets	of	spirit.Trust	Your	Soul
F
or	most	people	the	hardest	part	about	wishing	is	to	trust	that	it	works,”	said
Baba. “But	right	this	moment	you	are	asking	for	something	and	trusting	that
you	will	receive	it. Every	time	you	take	a	breath,	for	instance,	you	are	asking
for	air. Does	the	air	refuse?”
“No,”	I	said. “When	you	lift	your	arm,	you	are	asking	your	muscles	to	move. Do	your
muscles	refuse?”
“No.”
“So	wishes	are	being	answered	all	the	time	with	perfect	trust,”	he	said. “We
live	in	a	world	of	desires	coming	true.”
As	I	looked	around	it	was	easy	to	believe	what	Baba	was	saying. We	had
stopped	in	the	center	of	the	village. Shops	were	everywhere,	and	people	were
spending	money	and	bustling	home	with	what	they	had	bought. “See	how	many	wishes	will	come	true	today?”	he	said. “But	these	people	worked	hard	for	their	money,”	I	said. “They	don’t	think	that
buying	something	means	trusting	it	to	come	from	God.”
“They	would	get	much	more	if	they	did,”	he	said. “When	you	trust	that	your
soul	is	helping	you	to	make	your	wishes	come	true,	half	the	work	is	done.”
“I	don’t	know,”	I	said	doubtfully. But	of	course	Baba	loved	a	challenge. “Stop	and	turn,	with	your	back	to	me,”
he	said. “Now	fall	backward. Don’t	worry,	I’ll	catch	you.”
He	saw	me	hesitate. “Go	ahead,”	he	urged. I	took	a	deep	breath	and	let	myself	fall	backward. Baba	caught	me	and	said,
“Do	that	again.”	I	did,	and	again	he	caught	me. “It	got	easier	the	second	time,
didn’t	it?”“Yes,”	I	said. “And	if	we	did	it	ten	more	times,	you’d	trust	me	completely?”	he	asked. “I	think	so,”	I	said. “I	could	still	be	a	little	nervous	that	you	might	trick	me	or
get	tired	and	miss.”
“Well,	all	your	soul	wants	is	the	same	chance	you	gave	me,”	said	Baba. “Doubt	if	you	like,	but	when	you	can,	trust	your	soul	to	help	you	get
something	you	really	want. Once	you	get	used	to	trusting,	do	it	over	and	over. Eventually	you	will	have	no	doubt	at	all.”
“But	there’s	always	a	bit	of	doubt,”	I	pointed	out. “Really?”	said	Baba. “We	were	talking. Do	you	ever	have	the	slightest	doubt
you’ll	get	air?”
“No.”
“That’s	because	breathing	is	part	of	you,”	he	said. “So	is	your	soul. When	you
trust	spirit,	you	are	just	trusting	yourself. Give	it	a	try. In	time	you	will	see
that	there	is	no	more	need	for	doubt.”
W
HAT
	I	L
EARNED
Why	should	you	trust	your	soul? That’s	a	big	question,	because	most	people
don’t. They	may	pray	for	something	they	really	want,	and	when	the	prayer
isn’t	answered,	they	put	their	trust	somewhere	else. But	Baba	taught	me	that	I
could	ask	my	soul	for	things	and	trust	that	it	would	provide. He	gave	me	some
small	steps	as	a	start:
Think	of	the	color	red. Can	you	see	it? You	had	no	trouble	getting	your	mind
to	see	red,	did	you? It	was	automatic. Likewise,	you	will	trust	your	soul	more
if	you	realize	that	it	is	automatic—you	don’t	have	to	force	it	to	listen	to	you. Imagine	that	you	take	a	bird	out	of	its	cage	and	throw	it	into	the	air. Can	you
trust	it	to	fly	back	to	you? Would	it	make	a	difference	if	the	bird	was	a
homing	pigeon? Of	course	it	would,	because	a	homing	pigeon	has	been
trained	to	return. Likewise,	you	will	trust	your	soul	more	as	you	train	yourself
to	return	to	it	again	and	again.If	a	bear	goes	into	a	cave	to	hibernate,	can	you	trust	that	it	will	come	out	next
spring? Yes,	because	nature
	has	arranged	that	the	bear	obeys	the	timing	of	the
seasons. Likewise,	you	will	trust	your	soul	more	when	you	learn	that	there	is
a	right	time	for	everything	it	does. If	your	mother	puts	dinner	on	the	table	and	tells	you	to	make	sure	the	dog
doesn’t	get	it,	what	should	you	do? You	could	sit	in	the	kitchen	and	watch	the
food	all	day. Or	you	could	put	it	away	on	a	shelf	so	that	the	dog	can’t	reach	it. Likewise,	if	you	ask	your	soul	for	something,	you	don’t	have	to	watch	out
every	minute	to	see	what	it	does. You	can	put	your	wish	away	in	a	safe	place
and	trust. Imagine	that	some	prisoners	are	in	jail	and	the	door	is	left	open. Can	you	trust
them	to	stay	inside? No,	because	they	naturally	want	to	be	free. Likewise,
your	soul	wants	you	to	be	free,	and	if	any	opportunity	arises	to	give	you	more
freedom,	you	can	trust	your	soul	to	take	it. Trust	in	the	soul	doesn’t	develop	all	at	once. One	wish	isn’t	a	good	test,	or
even	two	or	three. Baba	taught	me	that	I	had	to	trust	my	soul	a	little	more
every	day. Keep	asking	it	to	take	you	to	that	high	place	where	visions	become
reality. Your	soul	is	already	there,	and	it	will	take	you	to	the	peak	if	you	trust
it	to.A	Tale	of	Ups	and	Downs
W
hen	I’m	with	you,	I	feel	as	if	anything	is	possible,”	I	said. “I	think	my
future	will	be	exciting,	and	that	wasn’t	true	before. I’m	different.”	Baba	and	I
had	retreated	to	a	patch	of	woods	near	the	village. We	stayed	out	of	sight
while	the	kids	came	back	from	lunch. “But	you	may	have	a	downfall	sometime—everyone	does,”	said	Baba. “Then
you’ll	go	back	to	how	you	were. It’s	human	nature.”
“I’d	try	to	be	better	than	that,”	I	said. “Would	you?”
Smiling,	he	handed	me	the	last	of	the	chapati,	flatbread	wrapped	around	curry,
just	like	the	first	day. “Handling	ups	and	downs	is	hard	for	everyone. Make
yourself	comfortable	and	try	not	to	doze	while	I	tell	you	a	little	story.”
Eating	lunch	hadn’t	made	Baba	the	least	bit	sleepy,	so	while	I	curled	up	under
the	tree,	he	told	me	a	tale	of	ups	and	downs:
Once	there	was	a	man	who	loved	two	things	above
	everything	else	in	the
world. One	was	his	son	and	the	other	was	a	pony. One	morning,	however,	the
man	awoke	to	find	that	the	pony	had	run	away. A	search	party	was	mounted,
but	the	pony	was	nowhere	to	be	found. “You	must	feel	terrible,”	a	neighbor	said	when	he	heard	the	news. But	the	man	looked	calm. “It’s	not	over,”	he	murmured. The	next	day	the	man	woke	up,	and	not	only	had	the	pony	returned,	but	with
him	came	a	magnificent	white	stallion. When	he	heard	the	news,	his	neighbor
said,	“You	must	be	overjoyed. You	have	your	pony	and	a	new	horse	that’s
twice	as	beautiful.”
But	the	man	looked	calm	and	said,	“It	isn’t	over.”
The	next	day	when	his	son	was	out	riding	the	white	stallion,	he	fell	off	and
broke	his	leg. As	the	boy	was	carried	into	the	house	moaning	with	pain	theneighbor	said,	“What	a	terrible	accident. How	much	you	must	be	suffering	to
see	your	poor	son	hurt.”
But	the	man	looked	calm	and	said,	“It’s	not	over.”
The	next	day	the	army	came. They	were	taking	away	every	able-bodied
young	man	to	go	to	war,	but	when	they	saw	that	the	man’s	son	was	laid	up
with	a	broken	leg,	the	soldiers	went	away	and	left	him	behind. The	neighbor
rushed	over	and	said,	“How	fortunate	you	are. Every	young	man	has	to	go	to
war	except	your	son.”
But	the	man	only	shrugged. “It’s	never	over,”	he	said. Baba	looked	at	me	when	he	finished. “That	story	was	a
	parable. The	neighbor
stands	for	the	mind,	the	father	stands	for	the	soul. The	mind	will	always
become	panicky	over	life’s	ups	and	downs. But	ups	and	downs	never	end;
that’s	just	the	nature	of	life. Today	cannot	promise	what	tomorrow	will	bring. “When	everything	else	changes,	your	soul	doesn’t,”	said	Baba. “It	isn’t	here
to	change. It’s	here	to	prove	that	there’s	a	part	of	you	that	is	ever	constant. Sailors	were	once	terrified	to	go	far	out	to	sea,	until	they	discovered	the	North
Star. With	just	one	star	that	was	constant,	they	could	sail	to	distant	lands
without	fear. The	next	time	you	see	that	star,	remind	yourself	that	whatever
worries	your	mind	may	have,	your	soul	will	never	move	or	change.”
Baba	had	more	to	tell	me,	but	I	couldn’t	hold	my	eyes	open. The	sweet	smell
of	the	grass	under	my	head	is	the	last	thing	I	remember. That	and	Baba	sitting
so	quietly	that	it	was	easy	to	imagine	that	he	would	never	change	either. W
HAT
	I	L
EARNED
This	lesson	was	about	balance. In	Baba’s	tale	about	the	pony	the	neighbor
gets	sad	when	anything	goes	wrong	and	happy	when	anything	goes	right. Change	is	all	he	knows. But	the	father	stands	back	and	takes	everything	in. He	has	a	bigger	view,	and	so	he’s	able	to	be	calm	and	steady. He’s	found	a
balance. Nature	is	all	about	balance. Look	at	a	tree. Its	leaves	sway	with	every	little
breeze,	while	the	trunk	stands
	totally	strong	and	firm. Your	mind	is	like	that. Thousands	of	thoughts	flicker	through	it,	yet	you	have	a	core	of	yourself	thatholds	firm,	no	matter	what. Baba	wanted	me	to	jump	in	and	go	with	the	flow. But	he	also	wanted	me	to	be	strong	enough	to	hold	up	in	a	storm. So	I	learned
not	to	be	excited	just	because	everyone	else	is. I	learned	to	value	a	friend	who
can	keep	cool	in	a	crisis. I	learned	to	sit	still	and	wait	to	see	what	comes	next. These	sound	like	little	things,	but	your	soul	does	them. It	keeps	tender	care
over	you,	rarely	making	itself	noticed. In	its	stillness	it	is	saying,	
I	am	always
here	for	you,	no	matter	what
.“What	Do	I	Need?”
A
ll	right,	back	you	go,”	said	Baba. We	had	waited	until	everyone	returned
from	the	village,	and	then	he	took	me	to	the	door	of	my	school	again. “Really? I	thought	I	was	staying	with	you,”	I	said. I	couldn’t	hide	my
disappointment. “I’ll	be	back	when	the	skies	are	right,”	Baba	said	mysteriously. He	turned
without	another	word	and	walked	away,	so	I	had	no	choice	but	to	scramble
back	inside. All	through	math	and	history	I	thought	about	Baba. When	the
final	bell	rang,	I	rushed	outside	to	see	if	he	was	waiting	for	me. But	he	wasn’t,
and	as	for	the	sky,	it	had	started	to	rain. At	first	the	rain	was	light,	so	I	decided	to	chance	it	and	run	home. Five
minutes	later	the	clouds	turned	black,	and	water	came	down	in	buckets. “Nasty	weather,”	a	familiar	voice	said. I	turned	around	and	there	was	Baba,
standing	in	the	middle	of	the	muddy	road. “Where	did	you	come	from?”	I	asked,	wiping	at	the
	rivulets	that	were
cascading	down	my	forehead. “Technicalities,”	he	said. “Your	training	is	too	important	to	waste	on
technicalities. Here,	I	brought	you	two	things,	but	you	can	have	only	one. It’s
up	to	you.”
He	held	out	a	folded	umbrella	in	one	hand	and	a	chocolate	bar	in	the	other. “The	umbrella,”	I	said	without	hesitation,	grabbing	it	from	his	hand. I	opened
it,	Baba	ducked	under	with	me,	and	the	two	of	us	started	down	the	road	again. But	now	the	clouds	crackled	with	lightning. One	bolt	struck	so	close	by	in	the
woods	that	it	made	me	jump. “It’s	getting	nastier,”	said	Baba. “But	I	can	give	you	one	of	two	things. Either
this	new	pocketknife”—he	was	holding	one	in	his	hand—“or	shelter	from	the
storm.”
“Shelter!”	I	shouted	as	the	wind	grew	into	a	howling	gale.We	rounded	the	next	bend,	and	among	the	trees	I	spied	a	small	cabin. Baba
and	I	made	a	run	for	it,	and	a	minute	later	we	were	safe	inside. I	was	so	cold
and	wet	that	I	began	to	shiver	all	over. “I	wish	there	was	some	firewood	or	a	heater,”	I	grumbled. “I	can	offer	you	one	of	two	things,”	said	Baba	again. He	held	out	a	fluffy
white	towel	in	one	hand	and	a	shiny	silver	ring	in	the	other. “Towel,”	I	said,	although	not	as	fast	as	before. I	didn’t	really	want	a	silver
ring,	but	this	one	looked	like	it	might	be	valuable. As	I	dried	myself	off	Baba	said,	“The	soul	does	what	you	just	did. It	pays
attention	to	what	you	really	need. Today	you	needed	an	umbrella,	a	safe
place,	and	a	towel	more	than	you	needed	a	candy	bar,	a	new	pocketknife,	or	a
silver	ring. It’s	easy	to	want	lots	of	things—who	doesn’t? But	to	know	that
your	soul	is	working	on	just	what	you	need—now,	that’s	a	rare	thing	indeed.”
W
HAT
	I	L
EARNED
If	you	ask	yourself	“What	do	I	need?”	the	answer	may	seem	simple. Maybe
you	need	supper	because	you’re	hungry,	or	a	little	peace	and	quiet	so	that	you
can	do	your	schoolwork. But	the	soul	thinks	about	needs	that	you	can’t	see. Some	lie	far	ahead	in	the	future,	for	example. On	the	material	level	DNA	also
works	that	way. It	knows	that	a	baby	needs	two	sets	of	teeth,	first	the	baby
teeth	and	then	the	adult	set. It	isn’t	left	to	each	baby	to	decide	(not	that	it
could),	because	nature	has	provided	what’s	necessary	in	advance. Just	as	DNA	has	knowledge	of	the	future,	so	does	your	soul. Baba	taught	me
that	every	life	unfolds	from	stage	to	stage. What	I	needed	at	fifteen	wasn’t
what	I	would	need	when	I	grew	up	and	had	a	family. Yet	compared	to	DNA,
what	the	soul	must	plan	is	a	thousand	times	more	complicated	because	every
word,	thought,	and	action	counts	as	a	life	unfolds. Your	soul’s	knowledge
applies	to	you	alone,	not	to	anyone	else. DNA	grows	baby	teeth	for
	every
child,	while	the	soul	must	plan	one	unique	life	at	a	time. So,	what	do	you	need? You	must	stay	tuned	in	and	find	out. If	one	destiny	fit
everybody,	each	kid	would	be	equally	smart,	equally	popular,	and	equally
athletic. Don’t	feel	deprived	if	you	think	you	don’t	have	enough	of	something,
because	your	soul	is	helping	you	to	assemble	a	life	that	no	one	else	will	leadexcept	you. One	day	your	attention	may	be	caught	by	a	frog	on	the	edge	of	a
pond	because	you	are	meant	to	be	a	biologist,	while	your	friend	may	notice
only	the	water	because	he	is	meant	to	follow	the	sea. The	tiny	things	you	notice	and	the	tiny	things	you	wish	for	work	together. Bit
by	bit	you	are	fitting	together	a	thousand	pieces	of	a	puzzle,	and	when	it	is
finally	assembled,	the	whole	will	be	you. Baba	taught	me	to	trust	that	I	am
unique	and	that	my	soul	knows	exactly	what	makes	me	perfect	in	my	own
way	The	next	time	you	feel	disappointed	that	you	didn’t	get	what	you	wanted,
remember	that	what	you	really	want	is	matched	by	your	soul	to	what	you
really	need.Your	Time	is	Coming
T
he	rain	ended,	and	Baba	walked	with	me	as	I	made	my	way	home. When	my
house	was	in	sight,	he	said,	“I’ve	found	something	for	you.”
“You	did?”	I	thought	I	had	kept	my	eye	on	him	the	whole	time. But	now	he
was	holding	out	a	bare	twig. From	one	end	dangled	a	single	dead	leaf,	curled
up	and	brown. Then	I	looked	closer. It	wasn’t	a	leaf	at	all. “A	chrysalis,”	I	said. “When	will	it	hatch?”
At	that	moment	the	chrysalis	quivered	and	a	small,	jagged	slit	opened	on	one
side. Within	minutes	a	butterfly	was	going	to	be	born. “Hold	it	carefully	while	I	tell	you	something	from	a	long	time	ago,”	said
Baba. “Something	that	happened	to	me.”	I	gingerly	took	the	twig	from	his
hand	and	watched	it	tremble	while	Baba	began	his	story. “One	day	when	I	was	a	boy,	my	father	brought	home	a	twig	exactly	like	that
one. He	tied	it	to	a	low	bush	outside	our	door. I	had	never	seen	a	butterfly
emerge	from	its
cocoon,	and	every	day	I	woke	up	with	excitement,	thinking
that	today	would	be	the	day. “Two	weeks	passed,	and	when	I	came	out	one	morning	to	see	the	end	of	the
twig	trembling,	just	as	it	is	now,	I	was	beside	myself	with	impatience. Soon	a
dark	insect	head	appeared,	then	with	great	struggle,	a	body	The	new	butterfly
was	very	weak. Being	born	had	totally	exhausted	it. “I	watched	as	it	clung	to	the	twig,	so	spent	that	it	couldn’t	unfurl	its	wings. They	were	soggy	and	crumpled,	like	wadded	tissue	paper. Taking	pity	on	the
poor	creature,	I	blew	on	its	wings	to	dry	them. I	blew	and	blew,	and	then
something	awful	happened. I	blew	so	hard	that	one	wing	tore.”
“What	did	you	do?”	I	asked,	seeing	the	crippled	wing	in	my	mind’s	eye. “There	was	nothing	to	do,”	said	Baba. “I	had	to	watch	the	torn	wing	dry	out,
and	the	butterfly	limped	away	It	could	barely	fly.”
We	both	were	quiet	for	a	moment	before	Baba	said,	“I	didn’t	tell	you	thatstory	to	make	you	sad. It	taught	me	something	I	never	forgot. All	things	come
in	their	own	good	time. Nature	assigns	a	time	for	the	butterfly	to	unfold	its
wings,	and	no	one,	not	the	most	mighty	emperor,	has	ever	forced	a	butterfly
to	be	born	faster. Look	at	a	rosebud	as	it	unfolds	into	a	beautiful	flower. No
power	on	Earth	can	make	it	open	faster	either. Nature	knows	its	own	best
time.”
“Does	it	know	my	best	time?”	I	asked. “Yes,”	said	Baba. “Your	soul	knows	when	your	time	is	coming,	and	it	leads
you	step	by	step. In	this	way	you	fit	perfectly	into	God’s	plan.”
Baba’s	voice,	which	was	always	so	calm,	was	filled	with	passion	now. “Every
small	breath	you	take	has	its	time,	but	so	do	the	great	events	of	your	life. Your
soul	knows	the	end	of	the	journey,	but	it	will	make	every	step	a	blessing	along
the	way.”
I	felt	a	shiver	run	down	my	spine,	because	I’d	never	thought	my	life	could
have	great	events	in	it. “Everyone’s	does,”	said	Baba,	reading	my	thoughts. “Every	step	you	take
with	your	soul	is	a	great	event,	because	through	you	life	itself,	as	far	as	the
most	distant	galaxy,	is	finding	a	new	expression. Your	next	thought	is	as	great
as	the	birth	of	a	star,	as	great	as	what	you	hold	in	your	hand.”
I	had	looked	away	from	the	twig	and	missed	the	butterfly’s	crawling	out	of	its
chrysalis. Now	it	was	free,	hanging	upside	down	from	the	twig. The	creature
looked	so	weak	and	helpless	that	I	knew	why	Baba	had	taken	pity	on	it	as	a
boy. “It	may	look	weak,”	said	Baba. “But	life	has	repeated	this	moment	for
millions	upon	millions	of	years. Ages	have	come	and	gone,	yet	nothing	has
stopped	these	fragile	wings	from	unfolding.”
We	sat	quietly	and	watched	as	the	crumpled,	damp
	wings	stiffened	bit	by	bit. The	butterfly	twitched	them	over	and	over,	and	like	magic	sails	they	opened
until	they	were	ten	times	bigger	than	they	started	out. The	dull	brown	color
turned	to	the	most	sparkling	blue. Finally	the	butterfly	seemed	to	know	that	it
was	ready,	because	instead	of	twitching	its	wings,	it	flapped	them. Its	body
was	carried	up	in	the	air,	and	after	a	minute	it	was	gone.A	mighty	speck	of	life	had	just	joined	the	cosmos. W
HAT
	I	L
EARNED
Baba	convinced	me	that	my	soul	knows	how	I	feel	and	what	I	want. It	knows
the	great	events	that	will	take	place	in	my	life. All	these	things	are	part	of	how
a	caterpillar	turns	into	a	butterfly. Imagine	what	it	experiences. One	day	a
caterpillar	is	chewing	on	a	leaf,	just	like	every	other	day,	and	it	has	this
thought,	
Maybe	I’ll	weave	some	threads
. It’s	never	had	such	a	thought	before,	but	suddenly	this	idea	is	so	strong	that	it
weaves	threads	all	around	itself. Now	that	I’m	in	here,	I’m	getting	sleepy,
	it	thinks. Everything	becomes	still
inside. The	caterpillar	doesn’t	want	to	eat	anymore;	it	doesn’t	even	want	to
see	daylight. Down	it	sinks	into	a	kind	of	sleep,	and	then	what	happens? Every	single	cell	in	its	body	shifts	and	grows	a	new	shape. At	one	point	the
old	caterpillar	is	little	more	than	a	shapeless,	soupy	blob,	and	then	out	of
nowhere	a	new	body	takes	form. Finally	the	caterpillar	feels	the	impulse	to	wake	up. I
	don’t	want	to	be	in	here,
it	thinks. So	it	pokes	and	shoves	and	chews	its	way	through	the	threads	it	has
woven. All	it	wants	is	to	see	the	light	of	day,	and	once	it	is	hanging	in	the	sun,
it	has	an	urge	to	twitch. It	doesn’t	know	it	has	wings;	it	doesn’t	even	know
what	wings	are. But	in	a	minute	or	two	all	it	wants	to	do	is	fly—without
lessons! Now,	here’s	the	big	question:	Can	you	grow	in	your	own	way	with	such
perfect	timing? Can	you	discover	that	you	are	unfolding	into	surprising	stages
you	never	expected? The	soul	is	where	the	future	stores	its	biggest	surprises. Your	DNA	already	contains	a	blueprint	for	your	body	to	grow,	which	is
amazing	enough. When	a	baby	begins	as	a	single	cell	in	its	mother’s	womb,
that	cell	already	knows	when	the	baby	will	grow	its	first	tooth,	when	it	will
focus	its	eyes,	grip	with	its	hands,	and	learn	to	balance	so	that	it	can	walk. Before	a	baby	sees	the	world	for	the	first	time,	its	DNA	knows	that	one	day
the	same	person	will	have	gray	hair. A	whole	life	span	is	compressed	into	a
speck	thousands	of	times	smaller	than	the	period	at	the	end	of	this	sentence. Your	soul	knows	as	much	about	your	mind	and	heart	as	DNA	knows	about
your	body. It	stores	everything	in	its	secret	vault,	every	desire	you	mighthave. You	aren’t	a	puppet,	though. You	have	choices,	thousands	of	them	every
day. You	can	choose	to	tap	into	the	most	powerful	force	in	the	universe. That’s	what	your	soul	is	waiting	for. The	biggest	event	in	anyone’s	life	is
when	you	make	the	cosmic	connection,	and	Baba	was	about	to	show	me	just
how	it’s	done.Day	Three
:	
What	Is	the	Supreme	Force	in
the	Universe?Alchemy
F
or	a	long	time	I	didn’t	see	Baba	again. I	looked	for	him	under	his	favorite
tree,	but	weeks	passed	and	he	wasn’t	there. I	knew	he	was	a	wanderer. He
didn’t	actually	live	under	the	tree	but	only	rested	until	he	felt	the	urge	to
roam. Summer	came,	and	I	gave	up	looking. I	found	myself	thinking	a	lot. I
would	retreat	to	the	cabin	that	Baba	had	found	during	the	storm. It	was
perfectly	hidden	in	the	green	gloom	of	the	woods	by	its	thick	layer	of	vines. I	arrived	one	day	to	hear	somebody	laughing	inside. And	the	laugh	sounded
like	it	could	be	only	one	person’s. “Baba!”	When	I	threw	open	the	door,	he	was	standing	in	the	middle	of	the
cramped	little	hut	dressed	in	his	immaculate	white	clothes,	exactly	as	before. “What	were	you	laughing	about?”	I	asked. “A	cosmic	joke,	which	I’ll	tell	you	later,”	he	said. Whatever	that	meant,	I	had
a	lot	to	tell	him	and	a	lot	to	ask,	but	Baba	didn’t	let	me	do	either. “So	your
third	day	begins,”	he	announced. “Perhaps	I	forgot	to	tell	you,	but	I	practice	alchemy,	the	science	of	changing
lead	to	gold. Only,	that’s	too	easy	I	prefer	the	real	alchemy,	the	kind	that	will
work	on	people.”
“Does	that	exist?”	I	asked. “It	must. It’s	working	on	you,”	he	said. “You’re	changing	before	my	eyes,	and
no	wonder:	I’ve	unleashed	a	force,	the	supreme	force	in	the	universe,	in	fact.”
“And	what	is	that?”	I	asked. “Love.”
I	could	feel	myself	blushing;	I	didn’t	know	what	to	say. Baba	didn’t	laugh	at
my	embarrassment,	but	said,	“If	I	just	loved	you	like	a	grandfather	or	a
favorite	uncle,	you	would	flourish. Love	is	like	fertilizer	to	the	heart—it
makes	it	grow	and	reach	for	the	sun. But	I	am	talking	about	something
cosmic,	a	force	that	is	much	more	powerful	than	family	love	or	even	romantic
love.“This	reminds	me	of	a	story	I	heard	when	I	was	your	age,”	said	Baba,	who
then	told	me	the	following	tale:
Once	there	was	a	man	who	loved	God	so	much	that	he	left	home	to	live	inside
a	temple. In	India,	God	can	be	either	father	or	mother. This	man	loved	the
Mother	God	more	than	anything	else	in	the	world,	and	so	he	spent	every	day
arranging	flowers	on	her	altar	and	praying	to	her	statue. He	always	went
around	wearing	a	dreamy	smile,	and	people	used	to	argue	behind	his	back,
some	claiming	that	he	was	amazingly	devoted,	and	others
	scoffing	that	he	was
more	than	a	bit	touched	in	the	head. One	day	the	highest	priest	in	that	part	of	the	country	stopped	by	the	temple,
which	was	on	the	banks	of	a	river. Stepping	off	his	boat,	he	stumbled	across
the	devotee. “You	are	said	to	worship	the	Divine	Mother	every	day,”	said	the
priest. “Yes,”	said	the	devotee,	who	was	nervous	and	shy	before	such	a	great	man. “Do	you	know	the	proper	prayers?”	the	priest	sternly	asked. “No,	I	sing	to	Mother	with	the	words	that	are	in	my	heart,”	the	devotee	said. The	priest	frowned. “Do	you	know	the	proper	rituals	and	sacrifices?”
“No,	I	was	never	taught	them,”	admitted	the	devotee,	who	was	getting	more
nervous	by	the	minute. The	high	priest	said,	“I	am	worried	about	you. Sit	with	me	and	I	will	teach
you	the	proper	way	to	worship	God.”
So	they	sat	together,	and	even	though	the	devotee	was	slow	and	uneducated,
after	a	while	the	priest	was	satisfied	that	he	had	taught	him	the	correct	way	to
worship. The	day	ended,	and	the	priest	got	into	his	boat	to	sail	back	down	the
river. He	was	a	hundred	yards	from	shore	when	he	heard	the	whole	crew
shouting. “What’s	the	commotion?”	the	priest	said	irritably. Then	he	saw	the	devotee,	who	was	walking	over	the	water	toward	the	boat. He	came	up	to	it,	and	in	a	humble
	voice	he	said,	“I’m	so	sorry,	but	could	you
teach	me	the	right	way	to	pray	again? I	think	I	forgot.”But	the	high	priest	had	fallen	to	his	knees	in	awe	before	a	true	lover	of	God. “That	story	is	about	what	love	can	do	when	it	is	a	cosmic	force,”	said	Baba. “Nothing	in	the	universe	is	more	powerful,	and	yet	if	you	look	inside,	the
same	force	is	within	you	at	this	very	moment.”
W
HAT
	I	L
EARNED
Can	love	really	transform	human	nature,	the	way	the	ancient	alchemists	tried
to	turn	lead	into	gold? Baba	wanted	to	prove	that	it	could. For	him,	love	is	a
force	that	flows	through	everyone	and	everything. Many	years	later	I	came
across	a	wonderful	experiment	that	applies	here. It	involved	a	group	of	rabbits
in	a	laboratory. They	were	kept	in	cages,	and	instead	of	eating	lettuce	and
carrots,	these	rabbits	were	fed	an	extremely	unhealthy	diet	to	see	if	they
would	develop	high	cholesterol	and	hardened	arteries,	just	as	human	subjects
do	when	their	diet	is	extremely	unhealthy. In	time	the	rabbits	became	sick,	as	the	researchers	had	expected—all	but	one
group,	and	no	one	could	understand	why,	because	this	group	was	eating	the
same	diet	as	all	the	others. Then	it	was	discovered	that	something	different
was	happening	to	them. One	of	the	college	students	assigned	to	feed	this
group	of	rabbits	used
	to	stroke	and	cuddle	them	before	they	were	fed. The
experimenters	were	forced	to	see	that	love,	in	the	form	of	touching	and
caring,	can	actually	change	the	body’s	chemistry. I’ve	never	forgotten	this	experiment,	but	as	a	child	I	already	knew	a	saying,
“If	you	give	nectar	to	an	angry	man,	he	will	turn	it	into	poison,	and	if	you
give	poison	to	an	enlightened	man,	he	will	turn	it	into	nectar.”	So	it	wasn’t
hard	for	me	to	believe	Baba	when	he	said	that	love	is	more	than	a	feeling. Love	has	the	power	to	create	change. What	is	it	that	people	really	want	to
change? They	want	to	be	healed
. This	means	in	both	mind	and	body,	because	life	hurts
us	in	both	ways. They	want	to	feel	safe
. This	means	living	without	fear	and	knowing	that	you
are	accepted. They	want	to	expand
. This	means	feeling	more	free,	not	having	that
suffocating	feeling	of	being	trapped	or	closed	in.They	want	to	be	inspired	to	do	great	and	wondrous	deeds
. I	don’t	have	to
explain	this—why	else	does	Hollywood	make	billions	of	dollars	a	year? Even
the	fantasy	of	great	and	wondrous	deeds	makes	us	go	back	for	more. As	you	look	at	yourself	right	now	can	you	create	these	changes? Nobody	can,
not	on	their	own	just	by	thinking. You	need	true	alchemy. You	must	release
the	same	flow	of	love	that	was	given	to	the	rabbits. Baba	taught	me	that
alchemy	comes	from	inside. People	spend	a	lot	of	time	looking	for	all	kinds
of	outside	solutions. They	move,	they
	change	jobs	and	get	new	friends,	they
forget	their	troubles	with	games	and	sports	and	movies. They	aren’t	thinking
about	love,	however;	the	supreme	power	in	the	universe	has	been	overlooked. The	first	thing	Baba	wanted	me	to	know	is	that	I	should	never	overlook	love
again.The	Boy	Who	Needed	Love
B
aba	had	been	standing	still	when	suddenly,	true	to	his	habit,	he	moved
quickly	out	the	cabin	door,	heading	straight	for	the	road. I	ran	after	him,
thinking	he	was	going	to	the	village,	but	after	a	few	moments	he	stopped. We
had	come	across	some	boys	up	ahead. “Take	a	look,”	he	said. I	knew	them	all. Four	boys	from	school	who	were	kicking	down	the	road	on	a
summer	day. They	needed	diversion,	and	at	that	moment	they’d	found
something	promising,	because	one	of	the	boys	was	shouting,	“No	way! Go
home,	Stinky.”
“What	are	we	looking	at?”	I	asked. Baba	was	paying	close	attention	to	the
boy	they	were	picking	on. “Someone	in	dire	need	of	an	alchemist,”	he	said. Jimmy	Stinky? I	thought. His	real	name	was	Jimmy	Starkey	which	made	him
unpopular	to	begin	with	because	he	had	an	Indian	mother	and	a	British	father. He	was	the	kid	who	forever	got	teased. Jimmy	was	wiry	and	small	for
	his	age. Somebody—probably	his	dad—had	told	him	that	he	had	to	try	and	fit	in. So
every	Saturday,	like	clockwork,	Jimmy	showed	up	to	give	it	another	try. This
time	he	held	out	a	new	cricket	ball. Indian	boys	are	probably	even	more	crazy
for	cricket	than	for	soccer. “Where’d	you	get	that	ball?”	one	of	the	other	boys	said. “Hand	it	over.”
Jimmy	hesitated. “What’s	wrong,	you	afraid	we’ll	take	it?”
“We	just	want	to	see	your	ball,	Stinky. What’s	wrong	with	that?”	another	boy
chimed	in. “Okay,”	Jimmy	said	doubtfully. He	handed	the	ball	to	the	first	boy,	who
started	tossing	it	up	and	down. “My	dad	bought	it,	for	all	of	us,”	Jimmy	said. He	was	actually	sounding	hopeful. “Please,	Baba,	let’s	go,”	I	said. It	made	me	uncomfortable	to	watch;	I	had
been	one	of	Jimmy’s	tormentors,	and	if	Baba	hadn’t	been	there,	my	attitudewould	have	been	just	like	his	present	tormentors’. But	Baba	wouldn’t	budge. I	don’t	have	to	tell	you	how	this	scene	was	playing	out. After	they	began
tossing	his	ball	around,	the	three	boys	wouldn’t	throw	it	to	Jimmy;	then	he
wanted	it	back,	but	they	wouldn’t	give	it	to	him;	then	they	threw	it	into	a	ditch
and	walked	away	laughing. “I’m	watching	him,”	said	Baba. “I’m	feeling	his	misery,	but	I	can	also	feel	his
tormentors,	who	are	happy	and	satisfied	with	how	they	treated	him. It’s	a	little
drama	about	human	nature,	isn’t	it?”	Jimmy	was	now	in	the	ditch
	by	the	side
of	the	road	trying	to	find	his	lost	ball	in	the	weeds. I	didn’t	want	to	get	involved	at	all. Jimmy	found	his	ball	in	the	muddy	ditch,
and	when	we	passed	him,	he	hung	his	head	while	I	looked	the	other	way. Baba	let	me	walk	down	the	road	at	my	own	slow	pace. I	couldn’t	get	Jimmy
out	of	my	mind,	and	more	than	once	I	wanted	to	turn	and	run	after	him. “And	what	would	you	do	if	you	caught	up	with	him?”	Baba	asked. “I’d	tell	him	I	was	sorry,”	I	said. “What	if	he	didn’t	want	to	listen?”	Baba	asked. “I’d	try	and	convince	him.”
“How?”
I	didn’t	like	being	interrogated. I	had	stood	by	and	watched	while	Jimmy	was
ragged	without	mercy. There	was	no	good	reason	why	he	should	trust	me. I
did	have	an	idea,	though. “I’d	ask	him	if	he	wanted	to	practice	pitching	and
batting	with	me. He’s	really	lousy	at	cricket,”	I	said. Baba	shook	his	head. “Once	a	dog’s	been	beaten,	it’s	hard	to	make	him	see
your	hand	holding	anything	but	a	stick.”
Baba	had	never	talked	so	grimly	before,	and	I	wondered	why	he	was	trying	to
make	me	feel	even	guiltier. “Guilt	is	pointless,”	he	said	impatiently	“It	adds	more
	pain	when	what	you
want	is	less. There	are	subtle	ways	to	show	Jimmy	that	you’ve	changed
inside. Let	me	show	you.”Baba	would	have	made	a	great	actor,	because	in	an	instant	he	changed	before
my	eyes. He	stiffened	and	crossed	his	arms	like	a	policeman	confronting	a
guilty	criminal. His	eyes	looked	right	through	me,	and	his	body	tightened	into
a	rigid	pillar. “How	do	I	look?”	he	said. “Pretty	scary.”
“And	how	do	I	look	now?”
Without	so	much	as	a	moment’s	hesitation	he	changed	again. His	body
softened,	the	sternness	in	his	face	melted,	and	I	saw	myself	reflected	in	his
eyes	just	as	I	did	in	my	mother’s	when	I	came	home	from	boarding	school. “That’s	amazing,”	I	said. “The	soul	finds	many	ways	to	express	what	is	true	about	you,”	said	Baba. “Through	your	body	language,	your	tone	of	voice,	the	look	in	your	eyes,	the
whole	sense	you	give	off	of	being	tense	or	relaxed.”
“I	never	notice	those	things,”	I	said. “Oh,	we	all	notice,	but	we	pretend	not	to,”	said	Baba. “That’s	what	is	so
amazing	about	this	particular	secret	weapon. It’s	out	in	plain	sight,	yet	it	still
remains	a	secret.”
W
HAT
	I	L
EARNED
This	lesson	is	about	bonding,	which	doesn’t	happen	in	what	you	do	or	say	or
think. The	moment	an	animal	is
	born,	it	bonds	with	the	first	living	creature	it
sees. You	can	hatch	baby	geese,	for	example,	away	from	their	mother,	and	if	a
man	is	watching	them	emerge	from	the	shell,	they	will	follow	him	for	the	rest
of	their	early	life	as	if	he	were	their	mother. A	human	baby	learns	to	recognize
its	mother’s	smile	within	a	few	hours	of	being	born,	and	soon	the	baby’s	eyes
will	go	to	that	face	and	watch	it	over	any	other	face. Mother	and	child	must
bond,	for	that	is	how	the	baby’s	brain	develops,	by	paying	attention	to	when
the	mother	smiles	or	frowns. Your	whole	sense	of	who	you	are	originally
came	from	watching	your	mother’s	reactions	in	those	first	days	of	life. Probably	the	most	fascinating	story	I’ve	heard	about	bonding	has	to	do	with
autistic	children. Autism	is	a	condition	that	causes	babies	to	go	inside
themselves	and	pay	no	attention	to	the	outside	world. Such	babies	show	nointerest	in	other	people. They	blank	out	music	and	television. It	is	sad	to	see
an	autistic	child	spend	an	entire	day	sitting	in	one	place	bobbing	back	and
forth,	a	prisoner	in	a	silent	world. These	children	were	considered	unreachable	for	a	long	time,	and	then	some
wonderful	exceptions	showed	up. In	one	case	an	autistic	boy	from	India
began	to	write	beautiful	poetry	even	though	he	could	barely	speak. In	another
case	a	father	got	down	on	the	floor	and	imitated	all	the	strange	twitches	and
twiddles	that	his	son	made,	and	after	many	months	the	son	started	paying
attention—he
	came	out	of	his	inner	world	and	began	to	show	signs	of	life. In	other	words,	someone	bonded	with	these	kids,	silently	saying,	
I	am	here	for
you
. And	in	one	case	an	autistic	boy	who	had	shown	barely	any	interest	in	the
outside	world	suddenly	began	to	write	and	do	math,	skills	he	had	learned	all
by	himself. When	asked	how	he	had	done	that,	he	tapped	out	a	message	with
one	finger	on	his	alphabet	board:	“I’ve	been	listening.”	I	felt	a	lump	in	my
throat	when	I	heard	that	story,	because	I	suddenly	knew	that	a	child	inside	us
is	always	listening,	no	matter	what	we	see	on	the	outside. Autism	is	related	to	a	brain	disorder,	a	disease,	but	even	in	normal	people	the
power	of	bonding	is	amazing. I	can	think	of	a	famous	moment	in	World	War	I
when	the	enemy	troops	had	been	facing	each	other	from	the	trenches	for
years,	at	great	cost	of	life,	without	either	side	advancing	so	much	as	half	a
mile. Christmas	Eve	arrived,	and	on	either	side	the	soldiers	emerged	from	the
trenches	to	sing	carols. The	feelings	of	war	fell	away	for	that	magical
moment,	and	although	this	happened	in	several	places	on	the	front	lines,	in
one	particular	place	many	soldiers	reported	seeing	a	mysterious	light	hovering
over	the	trenches,	a	light	that	some	identified	as	an	angel. Is	this	possible? Baba	taught	me	that	I	would	never	know	the	power	of	love
until	I	began	to	bond,	because	love	can’t	flow	when	it	is	trapped	inside	one
person. Bonding	comes	down	to	specific	things	you	can	do	in	every
relationship	you	have,	either	at	home	or	with	friends:
Look	in	the	other	person’s	eyes	with	acceptance. Show	that	you	understand	their	point	of	view. Don’t	rush	to	make	your	point	of	view	seem	right. Show	respect	in	every	situation,	even	when	you	feel	angry	and	argue.Both	sides	of	an	argument	need	to	be	able	to	walk	away	feeling
respected. Be	willing	to	compromise. Do	your	best	to	feel	what	the	other	person	feels. Put	yourself	in	their
position. If	you	are	in	a	bad	mood,	tell	the	other	person	that	it	is	not	their	fault. Give	the	other	person	the	gift	of	approval,	smiles,	and	laughter. Make	some	sort	of	physical	contact	if	it	is	appropriate,	showing	with	a
light	touch	on	the	shoulders,	a	hug,	or	shaking	hands	that	you	feel
close. Show	in	your	body	language	that	you	feel	relaxed	around	the	other
person. Relaxed	body	language	means	that	your	arms	and	legs	aren’t
crossed;	your	shoulders	are	lowered;	you	face	them	directly,	not
turning	to	one	side;	and	your	facial	muscles	are	relaxed. Bonding	comes	naturally	when	your	heart	opens. If	you	want	to	know	the	one
thing,	however,	that	breaks
	down	bad	feelings,	it	is	respect. If	you	show
respect	for	how	someone	else	feels,	you	can	bond	even	though	you	disagree. Your	respect	says,	
I	accept	you	as	a	person	equal	to	me,
	and	although	we
often	say	that	in	words,	meaning	it	from	the	soul	is	ten	times	more	important.The	Secret	of	Attraction
I
s	there	a	girl	you’re	really	attracted	to?”	asked	Baba. What	a	question! The
truth	is	that	I	had	never	had	a	girlfriend. We	were	very	innocent	in	India	back
then. Kids	barely	held	hands	on	a	first	date,	even	late	in	high	school. I	didn’t
know	one	boy	who	had	gotten	his	first	kiss. Most	of	the	time	we	just	watched
girls	from	afar. “Then	tell	me	this,”	said	Baba	when	I	didn’t	answer. “Why	are	boys	and	girls
attracted	to	each	other?”
“It	just	happens,”	I	said. “It’s	physical.”	I	couldn’t	believe	we	were	going	into
this	topic. At	least	one	of	us	looked	comfortable. Baba	said,	“Physical	attraction	just
happens,	yes. But	it	masks	something	deeper. This	is	another	mystery	of	the
soul,	and	you	should	know	about	it.”
Baba	lay	back	and	stared	up	through	the	leaves	gently	swaying	in	a	calm
breeze. Flickers	of	sunlight	played	over	his	wrinkled	face,	and	his	expression
looked	so	deep	and	far	away	that	he	could	have	been	thinking	about	some	girl
of	his	own—a	lost	love,	perhaps? “I’m	not	thinking	of	a	person,”	he	said,	picking	up	my	thoughts. “I’m
thinking	of	how	to	show	you	something. Ah!”
He	sat	up	with	a	gleam	in	his	eye. “Imagine	that	you’ve	just	met	a	beautiful
girl. The	two	of	you	are	attracted	to	each	other,	and	you	begin	to	see	her	every
day. One	day	you	notice	that	she’s	wearing	a	necklace	with	a	shiny	stone
pendant. ‘What’s	that?’	you	ask. She	doesn’t	seem	to	hear	your	question,
because	she	keeps	talking	about	something	else. “For	some	reason	that	shiny	stone	sticks	in	your	mind. The	next	time	you	see
her,	you	say,	‘Oh,	you’re	wearing	it	again.’	‘It’s	nothing,’	she	says,	and	starts
talking	about	something	else. Only	now	the	stone	looks	a	little	bigger	and
shinier. “Now	your	curiosity	is	piqued,	so	you	return	the	next	day,	and	the	stone	hasgotten	very	large	and	shiny. What	if	it’s	a	diamond? you	think. Maybe	she’s
wearing	a	diamond	that’s	so	valuable	she	doesn’t	want	to	tell	me	about	it
. “Can	you	imagine	how	this	story	will	turn	out?”	Baba	asked. “She	never	tells?”	I	said	doubtfully. “That’s	right. But	the	diamond	just	keeps	getting	bigger	and	bigger	in	your
eyes,	until	you	are	sure	it	must	be	the	most	precious	jewel	on	earth. That’s
how	attraction	grows	into	deep	love. You	have	to	make	only	one	little
change.”
Baba	tapped	me	on	the	chest. “The	diamond	is	in	there. You’ll	never	see	it
and	she	will	never	talk	about	it,	but
	when	you	are	attracted	to	a	girl—or	when
a	girl	is	attracted	to	a	boy—love	shows	you	something	precious	that	you	can’t
stop	wondering	about.”
W
HAT
	I	L
EARNED
It’s	easy	to	be	attracted	to	somebody;	it’s	even	easy	to	fall	in	love. But	Baba
wanted	me	to	go	deeper. Loving	someone	else	for	the	spirit	inside	is	like
finding	a	precious	jewel	that	only	grows	more	fascinating. The	steps	on	this
path	are	the	same	as	Baba	outlined:
You	notice	something	special	that	catches	your	eye. You	become	intrigued. The	thing	you	notice	grows	in	your	eyes. As	it	grows	it	becomes	more	and	more	special—you	begin	to	find	it
precious. So,	what	could	this	mysterious	thing	be	that	attracts	you	and	then	turns	into	a
diamond? Everyone	could	come	up	with	a	different	answer,	but	the	following
three	things	are	at	the	top	of	my	list. K
INDNESS
There	is	something	incredibly	touching	when	you	find	a	kind	person. Kindness	comes	so	naturally	to	them	that	they	don’t	notice	it,	because	theyaren’t	
trying
	to	be	kind. You	know	what	it’s	like	to	force	yourself	to	“do	the
right
	thing”	when	you	don’t	want	to. I’m	sure	you’ve	done	the	right	thing	by
visiting	a	sick	patient	in	the	hospital	or	spending	time	with	an	older	relative	or
volunteering	for	a	good	cause. Kindness	doesn’t	always	come	easily,	but
when	it	does,	the	person	whose	heart	is	naturally	kind	is	able	to	fascinate	me
year	after	year. My	love	never	grows	old. Kindness	can	also	be	called
courtesy	of	the	heart. C
OMPASSION
Compassion	is	kindness	carried	a	step	further. That	makes	it	even	more	rare. Most	people	can	stop	to	give	spare	change	to	a	homeless	person,	but	few
would	ask	if	that	person	needed	medical	help	or	a	hot	meal	and	then	see	that
he	got	it. When	I	see	compassion	in	someone’s	eyes,	I	am	reminded	of	a
parable	about	some	horsemen	crossing	a	stream. They	call	for	the	ferryman,	who	shouts	across	the	stream,	“How	many	of	you
are	there?”
One	of	the	horsemen	says,	“Let	me	count.”	He	counts	and	shouts	back,
“There	are	nine	of	us.”
“Really?”	the	ferryman	calls. “I	counted	ten. Count	again.”
So	the	horseman	does,	and	again	he	shouts	that	there	are	nine. The	ferryman
takes	his	boat	across. “What’s	the	matter	with	you?”	he	says	in	exasperation. “Every	time	you	count,	you	get	nine	because	you	forget	to	count	yourself.”
The	horseman	looks	confused. “I’m	supposed	to	count	myself?”	he	says. Compassionate	people	are	exactly	like	that. They	are	so	selfless	that	they
forget	to	count	themselves. In	our	society	forgetting	to	count	yourself	can
make	you	seem	foolish	or	naive,	but	to	me	it’s	one	of	the	most	lovable
qualities	anyone	can	possess. P
EACE
This	is	another	rare	quality	to	find,	because	most	people	are	at	peace	only
when	their	surroundings	are	peaceful. It’s	not	hard	to	be	at	peace	when	you
come	from	a	happy,	contented	home	and	have	happy	and	contented	friends. But	some	people	can	be	at	peace	anywhere,	even	on	a	battlefield. The	ancient
philosopher	Socrates	served	in	the	army	as	a	young	man,	and	everyonearound	him	was	amazed	by	his	ability	to	be	in	danger	and	yet	show	complete
calm. The	same	is	true	of	the	world’s	saints	and	sages. The	reason	that
wisdom	and	peace	go	together	is	that	you	have	to	look	deep	to	get	past	all	the
reasons	for	
not
	being	peaceful. These	reasons	are	everywhere. People	feel
angry	or	afraid,	they	worry	that	things	will	fall	apart	or	they	worry	that	things
have	
already
	fallen	apart—the	list	never	ends. But	there	is	only	one	reason	to
be	at	peace,	and	that’s	because	your	soul	is. Peaceful	people	seem	to	show
you	their	soul,	and	that	makes	them	fascinating	without	end. I	could	add	a	lot	more	qualities	to	this	list. I’ve	been	attracted	to	people
because	they	are	courageous	or	completely	honest
	or	truly	wise	about	human
nature,	or	they	just	have	a	joyful	
something
	in	their	eyes. Find	the	hidden
jewel	in	every	person	and	keep	noticing	it	every	day. I	promise	that	it	will
become	the	most	precious	diamond	on	Earth.Shopping	for	People
A
s	soon	as	we	reached	the	village,	I	ran	for	the	vendor	who	sold	sugarcane
juice. In	India	back	then	you	couldn’t	buy	sodas,	at	least	not	in	the
countryside. Instead	a	special	machine	was	set	up	at	a	vendor’s	stall	that
squeezed	fresh	chunks	of	sugarcane,	and	the	sweet	juice	was	poured	over	ice
to	make	a	cool	drink. “Want	one?”	I	asked	Baba	while	mine	was	being	squeezed. But	he	was	too	busy	looking	around	at	the	marketplace	with	all	its	shops	and
stalls. He	took	in	the	scene	casually,	but	there	was	X-ray	vision	behind	his
gaze. “A	lot	of	people	are	out	shopping	today,”	he	remarked. That	wasn’t	unusual;
housewives	came	to	the	stalls	every	day	to	get	food	to	cook,	and	everyone	had
to	come	here	to	buy	the	small	necessities. “But	some	of	them	are	shopping	for	people,”	Baba	said. “See?”	He	pointed	to
a	small	crowd	just	ahead	of	us. It	was	made	up	of	four	or	five	teenage	girls
sitting	together	near
	the	covered	bazaar. A	few	yards	away	a	similar	group	of
boys	were	huddled	together,	keeping	their	distance	but	checking	out
everything	the	girls	were	doing. I	didn’t	recognize	any	from	my	school. “Here,”	said	Baba. He	opened	his	hand,	and	in	it	was	a	hundred-rupee	note. “Let’s	put	you	on	the	market.”	I	can’t	tell	you	how	many	dollars	a	hundred
rupees	was	back	then,	but	I’d	never	seen	such	a	large	bill. Baba	folded	it	and
put	it	in	my	shirt	pocket. “What	do	you	want	me	to	spend	it	on?”	I	asked. “Don’t	spend	it. Just	walk	around	and	be	noticed.”	Baba	had	arranged	the
note	so	that	one	end	stuck	out	in	plain	sight. “I	can’t	walk	around	with	money	showing,”	I	said. “But	that’s	the	experiment. I	want	you	to	get	into	the	game	of	people-
shopping. It	will	only	be	for	an	hour.”	Baba	kept	insisting. I	felt	very	uneasy,
but	in	the	end	I	agreed	to	do	it	for	half	an	hour.It	was	the	longest	half	hour	of	my	life. Everyone	stared	in	curiosity	to	see	a
kid	with	that	kind	of	money	sticking	out	of	his	pocket. The	group	of	girls
were	the	worst. They	erupted	in	giggles	when	they	saw	me	coming,	and	after
I	passed,	I	overheard	them	whispering. The	boys	glared	at	me	as	if	I	had
grabbed	their	turf,	and	I	glared	back. Anyway,	the	whole	thing	was	nerve
racking,	and	I	was	glad	to	get	back	to	Baba. I	tore	the	money	from	my	pocket	and	almost	threw	it	back	at	him. “That	was
horrible!”
“Why? For	half	an	hour	you	were	the	best	thing	going,”	he	said	with	mock
seriousness. “You	should	be	happy.”
“It	had	nothing	to	do	with	me,	it	was	just	the	money	they	saw.”	I	was	calming
down	only	a	little. “Now	you	understand	the	trouble	love	gets	into,”	said	Baba,	“when	people
mistake	it	for	shopping. Those	boys	and	girls	are	picky	shoppers. They	want
only	somebody	who	looks	nice	and	feels	nice	and	maybe	smells	nice,	like	a
new	car.”
“Isn’t	that	being	a	little	cynical?”	I	said. Baba	shook	his	head. “Ask	the	ones	who	don’t	get	picked.”
I	couldn’t	argue	with	that. As	every	kid	knows,	getting	picked	depends	a	lot
on	the	same	things	that	go	into	picking	a	new	car—because	it’s	cool	or	makes
the	buyer	feel	important	and	successful—while	the	cars	that	don’t	get	picked
feel	like	rejects	even	before	someone	rejects	them. I	said,	“How	can	you	stop	boys	from	checking	out	girls	and	girls	from
checking	out	boys?”
“I	don’t	want	to. But	what	are	they	seeing?”	Baba	said. “Nobody	saw	you	just
now;	they	saw	what	you	had	on	display. The	worst	thing	about	being	on
display	is	that	you	can’t	be	yourself.”
“Nobody	walks	around	showing	their	money,”	I	pointed	out. “Maybe	not	the	bills,”	said	Baba. “But	they	show	what
	the	money	can	buy,	or
how	confident	and	cool	it	makes	them	feel. Love	is	the	opposite	of	being	on
display. You	show	who	you	are. If	you	don’t,	you’ll	never	be	able	to	trust	howothers	are	relating	to	you. They	could	be	acting	approving	or	jealous	or
secretly	hostile,	yet	none	of	these	reactions	are	about	you—they’re	about
what	meets	the	eye. Shopping	for	people	is	the	worst	way	to	find	true	love.”
Baba	started	chuckling	to	himself. “What?”	I	said. “I	was	just	thinking	how	everything	in	the	world	of	the	soul	comes	down	to
not	believing	your	eyes	and	believing	only	what	can’t	be	seen.”
W
HAT
	I	L
EARNED
I	think	this	lesson	speaks	for	itself. Then	why	is	it	so	hard	to	remember? Everyone	knows	that	you	shouldn’t	judge	by	appearances. Nobody	ever	had	a
father	and	mother	who	said,	“I	want	to	give	you	some	advice	about	falling	in
love. Pick	only	the	coolest	person	you	can	find,	and	if	they	stop	being	cool,
turn	them	in	for	a	better	model.”	Yet	social	life	often	revolves	around
shopping	for	people,	just	as	Baba	said. The	heart	value	is	pushed	out	of	the
way	in	favor	of	externals. When	you’re	a	shopper,	what	do	you	usually	look	for	first? Labels. A	nice
skirt	is	twice	as	nice	if	it	has	the	right	label. A	basketball	that	says	
NBA
	feels
like	it	has	something	special. So	early	on	in	life	we	become	aware	that	we	are
wearing	labels,	and	unfortunately,	what	others	see	first	is	often	nothing	but	a
set	of	labels. Who	am	I? You	could	list	all	my	labels:	my	name,	address,	race,
skin	color,	income	bracket,	college	degrees. It	took	a	lifetime	to	get	all	these
labels,	but	only	a	few	of	them	look	very,	very	nice. Others	are	average,	and
one	or	two	might	make	people	say,	“Oh,	you	know	him,	that	Indian,”	or	“You
know	him,	that	guy	who’s	always	giving	his	opinion.”	Inside,	I	don’t	feel	like
any	of	these	labels,	so	I	don’t	work	hard	at	making	people	see	the	good	ones. I	want	them	to	see	me	with	no	labels	at	all. As	Baba	told	me	then,	shopping	is	a	terrible	way	to	find	love. When	I	am
tempted	to	judge	others	by	how	they	look	or	how	much	money	they	make	or
how	important	they	are,	I	can	stop	myself	with	just	one	reminder:	
This	person
is	going	to	turn	into	what	I	see
. I’m	sure	you’ve	noticed	this	yourself. If	somebody	walks	up	to	you	with	a
thousand	dollars	sticking	out	of	their	pocket,	automatically	they	become	a
flashy	rich	person. Someone	who	mistreated	you	two	months	ago	can	walkinto	the	room	today,	and	all	you	see	is	how	much	you	resent	them. Appearances	are	considered	superficial,	but	actually	they	turn	out	to	be
extremely	powerful	because	we	buy	into	the	judgments	we	make	on	the	spot. Just	remember	that	making	an	impression	goes	both	ways. Half	the	time	you
are	looking	at	others,	and	half	the	time	they	are	looking	at	you. You	can	walk
down	the	hall
	at	school,	and	no	matter	how	you	act,	every	single	person
looking	at	you	will	create	their	own	impression	of	who	you	are. What	this
means	is	that	working	hard	to	create	an	impression	is	self-defeating. You	can’t
make	people	see	you	the	way	you	want	them	to. You	also	have	the	same	power,	right	this	moment,	to	see	any	person	in	any
way	you	choose. Use	this	power	well. Don’t	make	the	same	assumptions
everyone	around	you	is	making. Be	honest	and	open	every	time	you	look	at
anyone. Friends	and	enemies	are	created,	not	born,	and	the	place	where	they
are	created	is	in	your	heart. The	girl	you	might	dislike	has	somebody	else	who
loves	her. So	if	you	look	with	an	open	heart,	you	will	find	those	same
qualities. That’s	what	it	means	to	hold	someone	in	your	heart. You	allow	the
bonding	process	to	start	naturally,	and	in	time	a	stranger	feels	like	part	of	you.Looking	in	the	Mirror
D
o	you	think	girls	are	mysterious?”	Baba	asked. “Very	mysterious,”	I	said
without	hesitating	a	second. We	were	still	walking	around	the	village,	with	its
bustle	of	animals	and	people. “Do	you	know	why?”	he	asked. I	grinned. “I	guess	I	have	my	whole	life	ahead	of	me	to	figure	it	out.”
But	Baba	was	already	fumbling	for	something	in	his	pockets. “Here	it	is.”	He
pulled	out	a	small	mirror	and	held	it	beside	his	face. “What	do	you	see?”
“Is	this	a	trick	question? I	see	my	face,”	I	replied. “Perfect! You	get	the	point?”
I	shook	my	head. “Girls	are	mysterious	because	boys	are	looking	for	themselves	and	finding
someone	else	instead.”
“I	don’t	know	about	that. I’m	not	looking	for	myself,”	I	protested. “I’m
looking	for	a	girl	I	like.”
“Just	think	about	it. What	do	you	see	when	you	look	in
	a	mirror? You	see
what	you	like	and	what	you	don’t	like. Mostly	the	latter,	right? Mirrors	show
every	flaw. I’m	sure	you	spend	the	required	hours	before	a	mirror	when
nobody	is	looking.”
“The	witness	refuses	to	answer,”	I	said. Of	course	Baba	was	right. “Nobody	looks	in	the	mirror	to	see	themselves	as	they	really	are,”	Baba	said. “They	always	look	for	an	image. And	that’s	true	when	boys	look	at	girls	or
girls	look	at	boys. “The	image	you	have	of	yourself	holds	power	over	you. It	magnifies	what
you	think	is	good	and	bad;	it	is	filled	with	fantasies	about	the	future	and
memories	of	the	past. Which	is	why	girls	seem	so	mysterious. Boys	don’trealize	that	they	are	looking	at	their	own	dreams	and	fears.”
I	thought	this	was	pretty	interesting	but	at	the	same	time	pretty	confusing. “Let’s	say	I	see	a	really	attractive	girl. I	like	her	shape,	the	way	she	walks,	her
smile. How	am	I	seeing	myself?”
Baba	shook	his	head. “You’re	seeing	what	you	want	for	yourself. If	you
happened	to	be	in	a	bad	mood	and	wanted	to	pick	a	fight,	you’d	see	in	that
same	girl	exactly	what	you	needed	to	make	an	argument	break	out. The	mirror
is	magical. It	always	shows	us	what	we	want	to	see.”
Baba	grew	quiet	and,	I	think,	a	little	sad. “When	people	fall	in	love	they
should	look	beyond	the	image	in	the	mirror,”	he	said. “But	that	isn’t	easy. When	you	love	an	image,	you	are	loving	something	stuck	in	your	mind. Your
soul	has	a	different	idea	about	love.”	Baba	took	the	hand	mirror	and	tilted	it	to
the	sun. “See?”	he	said. “I	can	show	you	the	sun’s	image,	but	if	the	sun	appeared	only
in	a	mirror,	it	would	have	no	power	to	nourish	the	planet. Love	nourishes	you
when	you	look	at	it	directly;	it’s	just	a	pretty	thing	when	you	look	at	its
reflection. Think	about	that.”
W
HAT
	I	L
EARNED
I	did	think	about	what	Baba	said,	and	the	more	I	thought	about	it,	I	could	see
that	everyone	is	putting	up	an	image. Boys	aren’t	really	looking	at	girls,	and
girls	aren’t	really	looking	at	boys. Their	images	are	looking	at	each	other. What	if	a	boy	feels	insecure? He	may	find	a	girl	who	is	totally	devoted,	but	in
his	mind	she	will	talk	to	other	boys	too	much,	flirt	when	his	back	is	turned,
and	give	a	hundred	little	causes	for	jealousy. That’s	how	powerful	a	mental
image	can	be. (Think	of	the	millions	of	people	who	worship	movie	stars	and
pretend	that	the	real	person	is	incredibly	glamorous	off	the	screen,	incredibly
brave	and	romantic. In	reality	actors	aren’t	different	from	ordinary	people,	but
their	image	says	they	have	to	be.) Only	at	the	soul	level	is	a	real	person	looking	for	another	real	person. Deep
down,	the	heart	can’t	be	fooled	by	images—not	for	long,	at	least. It
understands	that	love	has	to	be	honest. When	you	love	someone,	you	find	the
courage	to	say,	“You	are	my	mirror.”	You	look	into	your
	beloved’s	eyes	and
accept	what	you	see,	including	your	own	imperfections. If	you	do	that,suddenly	the	imperfections	don’t	seem	so	horrible. The	secret	is	that	you	feel
loved,	and	that	feeling	melts	through	the	image	in	your	mind. It’s	incredibly	stressful	to	live	up	to	an	image. Images	strive	to	be	perfect. Images	are	afraid	to	shatter;	they	have	to	stand	apart	and	never	show
weakness. When	you	begin	to	see	yourself	honestly	in	the	mirror	of	another
person,	a	lot	of	that	stress	begins	to	fade	away. It’s	such	a	relief. And	when
the	image	finally	vanishes,	love	can	relax	and	blend	into	the	joy	of	another
person’s	heart.Good	Versus	Evil
L
ooking	back,	I	think	it’s	strange	that	I	didn’t	ask	Baba	lots	of	things. Like,
“Where	do	you	come	from? How	did	you	learn	so	much,	some	kind	of
school?”	I	never	really	found	out	any	facts	about	him	at	all. Maybe	I	didn’t
want	him	to	be	too	real,	with	an	ordinary	life	like	everyone	else’s. I	liked
being	in	a	world	that	was	just	Baba	and	me,	at	least	for	three	days. But	there	was	one	question	that	anybody	would	ask. “Baba,	what	about	evil?”
I	said	as	we	sat	under	our	favorite	tree,	the	old,	twisted	one	by	the	side	of	the
road. The	village	was	behind	us	now,	and	the	afternoon	was	drawing	on. “A
lot	of	people	would	claim	that	evil	is	just	as	powerful	as	love.”
“True,	they	would,”	said	Baba. He	had	his	eyes	closed	as	he	sat	in	his	cross-
legged	pose. “Evil	is	more	visible	than	love. It	leaves	destruction	in	its	path. Some	destruction	is	necessary. Plants	produce	thousands	of	seeds	for	every
one	that	grows;	if	they	all	survived,	the	whole	planet	would	soon	be	choked	to
death. “To	be	alive	means	that	you	are	part	of	a	cycle	that	destroys	things. Take	your
fingernail	and	scrape	it	inside	your	cheek.”	Baba	opened	his	eyes	and	watched
while	I	did	that. “You	have	destroyed	hundreds	of	cells	that	were	alive	just	a
second	ago,”	he	said. “So	destruction	isn’t	always	evil. Thousands	of	skin
cells	will	die	and	slough	off	from	your	body	this	week,	making	way	for	a
fresh	layer	of	new	skin.”
“But	destroying	the	life	of	others,	that	has	to	be	evil,”	I	said. “Really? You	probably	crushed	dozens	of	insects	under	your	feet	as	you
walked	along,	not	thinking	about	them,	and	billions	of	germs	are	killed	by
your	white	blood	cells	every	year. Is	any	of	that	evil?”
“It	could	be,”	I	said	doubtfully. “Yes,	depending	on	who	is	making	the	call,”	he	said. “I’m	sure	the	ants	would
rather	be	alive,	and	maybe	even	the	germs—who	knows	what	they	think?”
“Then	potentially	there’s	evil	everywhere,”	I	said.“You	have	to	decide	that	for	yourself,”	said	Baba. “Evil	is	not	absolute. It
exists	in	the	eyes	of	human	beings,	and	we	are	very	fickle,	as	you	know. Yesterday’s	evil	could	be	tomorrow’s	good.”
Baba	gave	me	an	example. “What	if	we	had	met	two	hundred	years	ago? I’d
see	you	walking	down	the	road,	and	I’d	say,	‘How	was	your	day?’	You	might
say,	‘Oh,	the	same	as	ever. I	got	up	at	four	in	the	morning	and	was
	weaving	a
rug	before	dawn. I	worked	for	eleven	hours,	but	my	master	hit	me	with	his
stick	only	three	or	four	times.’
“People	used	to	live	such	a	life	without	question,	and	some	still	do,”	Baba
said. “Isn’t	it	evil	to	beat	children	and	work	them	to	the	bone? To	us	it	is,	but
two	hundred	years	ago	such	a	life	showed	that	a	child	was	doing	God’s
work.”
“People	do	bad	things,”	I	insisted. “There’s	a	constant	battle	between	good
and	evil.”
“Yes,	but	your	soul	doesn’t	join	the	fight,”	said	Baba. “Its	job	is	to	make	evil
vanish	without	a	fight.”
“That’s	hard	to	believe,”	I	said. “Evil	doesn’t	just	disappear.”
“Of	course	it	does. All	the	time,”	said	Baba. “Imagine	that	you	are	three	years
old	and	you’ve	lost	your	mother	in	the	market. You’re	alone	and	terrified;	you
think	she’s	never	coming	back. You	might	not	even	survive. Isn’t	that	what
evil	feels	like? Then	she	finds	you	again. Presto,	the	evil	is	gone.”
“Because	the	kid	was	just	imagining	things,”	I	said. “And	that’s	how	your	soul	sees	all	evil,”	said	Baba. “You	think	you	know
what’s	really,	truly	evil? You	think	you	can	tell	the	good	guys	from	the	bad
guys? I	envy	you,	because	I	can’t. I	am	like	the	mother	rushing	to	find	her	lost
child. I	know	that	you	are	frightened	and	alone,	and	I	can’t	wait	to	show	you
that	what	you	are	so	afraid	of	is	only	imagination.”
W
HAT
	I	L
EARNED
This	was	a	radical	lesson	from	Baba. He	knew,	and	so	did	I,	that	millions	of
people	think	that	evil	is	cosmic. They	believe	in	the	devil	and	pray	not	to	fall
into	his	clutches. The	story	of	the	Garden	of	Eden	seems	to	tell	us	that	humanbeings	have	already	fallen	into	sin,	so	even	an	innocent	baby	is	caught	in	a
web	of	evil	that	isn’t	its	fault. How	could	Baba	claim	that	evil	is	imaginary? Even	if	you	have	a	soul,	even	if
you	go	to	heaven	when	you	die,	even	if	God	loves	all	of	us	equally,	don’t	a
huge	number	of	bad	things	still	keep	happening	in	the	world? I	have	heard
people	use	the	words	
bad,	evil,	wicked,
	or	
wrong
	about	all	the	following
things:
Shoplifting
Robbing	a	bank
Mistreating	children
Letting	children	do	what	they	want
Skipping	school
Killing	somebody
Buying	a	lottery	ticket
Betting	all	your	money	on	the	stock	market
Going	to	war
Refusing	to	go	to	war	and	being	against	war
You	can	see	that	this	is	a	tricky	list:	Some	things	on	it	don’t	seem	evil	at	all	to
me;	some	things	are	so	evil	they	are
	considered	crimes	or	sins;	other	things
are	considered	bad,	but	so	are	their	opposites. In	Victorian	times	children
were	beaten	and	disciplined	harshly	to	develop	“character,”	yet	today	the
same	practice	would	be	called	child	abuse. Throughout	history	war	has	been
called	evil,	but	war	resisters	have	also	been	considered	criminals	and	traitors
to	their	country. So	that’s	the	first	thing	Baba	wanted	me	to	see. Evil	is	hard	to	pin	down,	and	a
lot	depends	on	who	is	making	the	call. What	about	pain? Isn’t	it	wrong	to
inflict	pain	on	somebody? Yes,	but	running	a	marathon	brings	extreme	pain;
so	does	surgery,	which	saves	lives. There	isn’t	a	cosmic	force	called	evil;
there	are	only	situations	where	pain	and	suffering	occur. Can	these	ever	go
away? I	believe	they	can. Human	nature	can	change	through	love. It	may	happen
slowly,	but	pain	makes	all	of	us	want	to	find	a	better	way	to	live. That’s	thesecond	point	Baba	was	making:	If	you	see	someone	in	pain,	help	it	to
disappear. The	answer	to	the	question,	“Can	I	help?”	comes	in	many	forms:
When	someone	feels	afraid	and	unsafe,
	help	make	them	feel	safe. When	someone	has	failed,
	make	them	see	all	the	ways	they	already	succeed
and	will	succeed	again. When	someone	has	lost	a	loved	one,
	share	their	pain	and	grief,	but	know	that
life	goes	on,	and	no	one	is	ever	lost	on	the	soul	level. When	someone	is	overwhelmed	by	events,
	help	them	look	inside	to	find	a
place	of	peace. When	someone	feels	physical	pain	and	illness,
	offer	comfort	and	love. Persuade	them	to	find	the	best	medical	help	possible,	remembering	that
sometimes	physical	illness	defeats	the	psychology,	making	it	hard	to	seek
help. Life	is	always	going	to	have	both	pleasure	and	pain	in	it. Don’t	set	out	to	fill
your	life	only	with	fun,	because	that’s	not	realistic;	don’t	call	pain	evil,
because	that’s	unrealistic	too. The	third	thing	Baba	wanted	me	to	know	about
good	versus	evil	is	that	life	is	in	balance,	and	balance	works	for	the	good	of
life	everywhere. Imagine	that	you’re	Mother	Earth. She	has	seen	billions	upon
billions	of	creatures	go	through	birth	and	death. She	has	witnessed	destruction
that	swept	away	whole	continents	and	all	the	animals	that	lived	on	them. Is	this	cycle	of	birth	and	death	evil?
Fire_In_The_Heart_-_A_Spiritual_Guide_for_Teens_by_Deepak_Chopra.txt
Summarize the following text section accurately and concisely. Maintain specific details and numerical information, and use anti-repetition mechanisms:

        I	went	over	to	where	he	was	standing. “A	spiderweb. ”	I	said. “That’s	right,	and	where	is	the	spider. ”	asked	Baba. The	web	was	suspended
between	two	bushes,	and	it	looked	freshly	made	that	morning. “After
finishing	her	web,	the	spider	weaves	one	last	thread. She	follows	it	to	a	hiding
place	and	sits,	holding	tight	to	her	thread. She’s	waiting	for	it	to	vibrate,	and
when	it	does,”	said	Baba,	“she	knows	she’s	caught	her	prey. ”
If	I	looked	very	closely,	I	could	just	see	the	thread	he	was	talking	about,
although	I	still	couldn’t	spy	its	weaver. “Now,	what	would	happen	if	you	cut	that	tiny,	nearly	invisible	thread. ”	asked
Baba. “She’d	be	cut	off	from	all	her	hard	work. ”
“That’s	true,”	I	said,	holding	up	my	hand	with	the	invisible	string	in	it. “But
this	string	doesn’t	lead	anywhere. ”“Oh,	yes	it	does,”	said	Baba. “Your	soul	has	woven	that	string. It	leads	to
what	you	want. Stay	connected	to	your	soul	and	you	will	find,	step	by	step,
that	you	are	being	led	to	your	deepest	desires. But	if	you	cut	the	string,	it
leads	nowhere. ”
W
HAT
	I	L
EARNED
I	knew	what	Baba	meant	about	the	spiderweb,	but	it	took	a	long	while	to
figure	out	how	my	invisible	string	worked. Like	getting	a	car. Baba	knew	that
I	would	have	to	wait	a	few	years,	take	driving	lessons,	pass	my	test,	and	then
hope	that	my	father	would	help	me	buy	my	own	car. These	steps	followed	one
upon	the	other. Each	step	was	necessary,	and	each	unfolded	in	its	own	time. So	following	the	thread	was	no	problem. Let’s	take	it	a	bit	further. What	about	wishes	that	are	much	harder	to	make
come	true. In	my	family	there	was	an	impossible	dream	that	changed
everybody’s	life,	and	I	will	tell	you	its	story	to	illustrate	how	amazing	a	thread
can	be. Many	years	ago	there	was	a	young	man	from	India	who	wanted	more	than
anything	to	be	a	doctor. He	went	to	school	and	got	his	degree,	but	then	a	war
came	along,	he	went	into	the	army,	and	there	was	no	way	for	him	to	finish	his
studies. As	it	happened,	the	young	man	was	assigned	as	an	aide	to	the	most	important
official	in	the	country,	the	British	viceroy	of	India. When	the	war	was	over,
the	viceroy,	who	had	ruled	over	millions	of	people,	turned	to	his	aide	and
said,	“You’ve	done	me	good	service. Is	there	anything	I	can	do	for	you. Just
ask. ”
Without	hesitation	the	young	man	spoke	up. He	wanted	to	be	trained	in
advanced	medicine	alongside	the	British	doctors,	he	said. The	viceroy	granted
him	his	wish,	but	when	he	got	to	the	training	hospital,	everyone	ignored	this
quiet	Indian	who	didn’t	even	belong	there. Day	after	day	he	studied	hard. He
knew	the	answers	to
	every	question,	but	he	was	never	called	on. One	day	the	medical	students	were	trailing	behind	one	of	the	most	famous
British	doctors	as	he	reviewed	his	cases. Senior	doctors	made	rounds	of	the
hospital	wards	every	morning	with	students	in	tow	like	ducklings. They	got	to
a	certain	patient,	and	the	famous	doctor	said,	“Who	can	tell	me	what’s	wrongwith	this	man. ”
It	was	a	difficult	case,	and	none	of	the	British	students	volunteered. But	the
young	Indian’s	hand	was	up,	so	he	had	to	be	called	on,	and	he	knew	the	right
answer. After	that	his	teachers	paid	attention	to	him. One	day	the	famous
British	doctor	called	him	into	his	office. “I’m	returning	home	to	England	tomorrow,”	the	famous	doctor	told	him,	“and
you’ve	impressed	me.
He says it's not the spider's web, but rather the soul's web.
What does Baba say about the spider's web?
Trust in the universe, and the soul's guidance.
What is the key to making wishes come true, according to Baba?
The story teaches that the soul knows what you need and will help you achieve your goals.
What is the main point of the story about the butterfly?
Trust is crucial in the process of making your wishes come true, as the soul will only work with someone who trusts it.
What is the importance of trust, according to Baba?
The universe is in balance, and the soul is part of that balance.
What is the main lesson Baba wants to convey about the nature of the universe?