December 31, 2007

Story:The King's Highway

Once upon a time, a king had a great highway built for the people
who lived in his kingdom. After it was completed, but before it was
opened to the public, the king decided to have a contest. He invited
as many of his subjects as desired to participate. The challenge was
to see who could travel the highway the best, and the winner was to
receive a box of gold.

On the day of the contest, all the people came. Some of them had
fine chariots; some had fine clothing and fancy food to make the trip a
luxurious journey. Some wore their sturdiest shoes and ran along the
highway on their feet to show their skill. All day they travelled the
highway, and each one, when he arrived at the end, complained to
the king about a large pile of rocks and debris that had been left
almost blocking the road at one point, and that got in their way and
hindered their travel.

At the end of the day, a lone traveller crossed the finish line warily
and walked over to the king. He was tired and dirty, but he addressed
the king with great respect and handed him a small chest of gold. He
said, "I stopped along the way to clear a pile of rocks and debris that
was blocking the road. This chest of gold was under it all. Please
have it returned to its rightful owner."

The king replied, "You are the rightful owner." "Oh no," said the
traveller, "This is not mine. I've never known such money."
"Oh yes," said the king, "you've earned this gold, for you won my
contest. He who travels the road best is he who makes the road
better for those who will follow."

Remember those words of wisdom as you travel the road of life!

Wish you a great, happy and successful new year, readers.

The most beautiful thing



"The most beautiful thing in the world is a ballpark filled with people."
-
Bill Veeck

December 30, 2007

The Scorpion & the Turtle

A scorpion, being a very poor swimmer, asked a turtle to carry him on
his back across a river. "Are you mad?" exclaimed the turtle. "You'll
sting me while I'm swimming and I'll drown."

"My dear turtle," laughed the scorpion, "if I were to sting you, you
would drown and I would go down with you. Now where is the logic in
that?"

"You're right?" cried the turtle. "Hop on!" The scorpion climbed aboard
and halfway across the river gave the turtle a mighty sting. As they
both sank to the bottom, the turtle resignedly said:

"Do you mind if I ask you something? You said there'd be no logic in
your stinging me. Why did you do it?"
"It has nothing to do with logic," the drowning scorpion sadly replied.
"It's just in my nature."

In the last trembling moments of the turtle's existence, its life starts to
play back like a movie in fast-forward. As the movie reaches its last
frame, it freezes on the old adage "to try is to fail - not to try is to
surrender" as the river swallows both of them in an inevitable act of
nature and the soul of the turtle rejoins its creator.

December 29, 2007

Foods that heal and foods that kill

Foods that Kill

* Margarine and other hydrogenated fats
* refined salt, Table salt
* Chlorinated Water
* Antibiotics
* ASPARTAME
* MSG - Mono Sodium Glutamate
* Pesticides
* CARCINOGENS
* Hormones - MILK
* Food additives
* Sugar, cane sugar, corn syrup, chocolate and other foods containing simialar concentrated sweeteners
* refined oils
* baking powder
* hard and dry bovine milk cheese
* Junk foods (hamburgers, pizza, hotdog, nachos, …)
* Fried, smoked, grilled foods
* Soft drinks - Coca Cola, Pepsi, Soda pop
* Alcohol drinks


Replace Foods that Kill with Foods that heal

* Stevia, Rice malt, Barley malt, Carob, Fruits, Carrots

(If you Include in your diet algae, sea foods and unrefined sea salt that contain trace minerals Chromium and Vanadium, you will not have craving for Sugar and sweets ! Craving for Sugar and sweets is a symptom of Chromium and Vanadium deficiency!)

* Unrefined sea salt
* Vegetable Juices - juicing
* Stevia
* Essential fatty Acids
* Calcium, magnesium, Vitamin D
* Trace Minerals
* Imoplex
* Organic foods
* Enzymes and cancer
* Flaxseed oil / Linseed oil
* Algae and seaweed
* Chlorela algae
* Spirulina algae
* Barley grass
* Bovine cartilage
* Chaparral (Larrea tridentata)
* Iscador (from Viscum album)
* Lemonade in the morning
* Olive Oil
* Ocean Vegetables
* Coenzyme Q10
* Maple Syrup
* Sea Vegetables

Courtesy: www.curezone.com

December 28, 2007

A Zen Story: Is that so?

Nan Tien Temple

The Zen master Hakuin was praised by his neighbors as one living a pure life.

A beautiful Japanese girl whose parents owned a food store lived near him. Suddenly, without any warning, her parents discovered she was with child.

This made her parents very angry. She would not confess who the man was, but after much harassment at last named Hakuin.

In great anger the parents went to the master. "Is that so?" was all he would say.

After the child was born it was brought to Hakuin. By this time he had lost his reputation, which did not trouble him, but he took very good care of the child. He obtained milk from his neighbors and everything else the little one needed.

A year later the girl-mother could stand it no longer. She told her parents the truth - that the real father of the child was a young man who worked in the fishmarket.

The mother and father of the girl at once went to Hakuin to ask his forgiveness, to apologize at length, and to get the child back again.

Hakuin was willing. In yielding the child, all he said was: "Is that so?"

The Story of a Favourite Teacher

Jean Thompson stood in front of her fifth-grade class on the
very first day of school in the fall and told the children a lie. Like
most teachers, she looked at her pupils and said that she loved
them all the same, that she would treat them all alike. And that
was impossible because there in front of her, slumped in his
seat on the third row, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.
Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and
noticed he didn't play well with the other children, that his
clothes were un-kept and that he constantly needed a bath. And
Teddy was unpleasant.

It got to the point during the first few months that she would
actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen,
making bold X's and then marking the F at the top of the paper
biggest of all. Because Teddy was a sullen little boy, no one
else seemed to enjoy him, either.

At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to
review each child's records and put Teddy's off until last. When
she opened his file, she was in for a surprise. His first-grade
teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright, inquisitive child with a ready
laugh." "He does his work neatly and has good manners...he is
a joy to be around."

His second-grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent student
well-liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his
mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a
struggle."

His third-grade teacher wrote, "Teddy continues to work hard
but his mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his
best but his father doesn't show much interest and his home life
will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."

Teddy's fourth-grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and
doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many
friends and sometimes sleeps in class. He is tardy and could
become a problem."

By now Mrs. Thompson realized the problem, but Christmas
was coming fast. It was all she could do, with the school play
and all, until the day before the holidays began and she was
suddenly forced to focus on Teddy Stoddard.

Her children brought her presents, all in beautiful ribbon and
bright paper, except for Teddy's, which was clumsily wrapped in
the heavy, brown paper of a scissor grocery bag. Mrs.
Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other
presents.

Some of the children started to laugh when she found a
rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a
bottle that was one-quarter full of cologne. She stifled the
children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet
was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume behind the
other wrist. Teddy Stoddard stayed behind just long enough to
say, "Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my mom used
to."

After the children left she cried for at least an hour. On that very
day, she quit teaching reading, writing, and speaking. Instead,
she began to teach children. Jean Thompson paid particular
attention to the one, they all called "Teddy."

As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The
more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. On days
where there would be an important test, Mrs. Thompson would
remember that cologne. By the end of the year he had become
one of the smartest children in the class and. well, he had also
become the "pet" of the teacher who had once vowed to love all
of her children exactly the same.

A year later she found a note under her door, from Teddy,
telling her that of all the teachers he'd had in elementary school,
she was his favourite. Six years went by before she got another
note from Teddy.

He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his
class, and she was still his favourite teacher of all time.
Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while
things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck
with it, and would graduate from college with the highest of
honours. He assured Mrs. Thompson she was still his favourite
teacher.

Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This
time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he
decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was
still his favourite teacher, but that now his name was a little
longer. The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, M.D.

The story doesn't end there. You see there was yet another
letter that spring. Teddy said he'd met this girl and was to be
married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years
ago and he was wondering...well, if Mrs. Thompson might agree
to sit in the pew usually reserved for the mother of the groom.
And guess what, she wore that bracelet, the one with several
rhinestones missing. And I bet on that special day, Jean
Thompson smelled just like...well, just like the way Teddy
remembered his mother smelling on their last Christmas
together.

You never can tell what type of impact you
may make on another's life by your actions or lack of
action.

December 27, 2007

The Grocery List

Louise Redden, a poorly dressed lady with a look of defeat on her
face, walked into a grocery store. She approached the owner of the
store in a most humble manner and asked if he would let her charge
a few groceries. She softly explained that her husband was very ill
and unable to work, they had seven children and they needed food.
John Longhouse, the grocer, scoffed at her and requested that she
leave his store.

Visualizing the family needs, she said: 'Please, sir! I
will bring you the money just as soon as I can." John told her he could
not give her credit, as she did not have a charge account at his store.
Standing beside the counter was a customer who overheard the
conversation between the two. The customer walked forward and told
the grocer man that he would stand good for whatever she needed for
her family.

The grocer man said in a very reluctant voice, "Do you
have a grocery list? Louise replied, "Yes sir!"
"O.K." he said: "Put your grocery list on the scales and whatever your
grocery list weighs, I will give you that amount in groceries."
Louise, hesitated a moment with a bowed head, then she reached
into her purse and took out a piece of paper and scribbled something
on it. She then laid the piece of paper on the scale carefully with her
head still bowed.

The eyes of the grocer man and the customer showed amazement
when they saw the scales went down and stayed down. The grocer
man staring at the scales turned slowly to the customer and said
begrudgingly, "I can't believe it." The customer smiled and the grocer
man started putting the groceries on the other side of the scales. The
scale did not balance so he continued to put more and more
groceries on them until the scales would hold no more.

The grocer man stood there in utter disgust. Finally, he grabbed the
piece of paper from the scales and looked at it with greater
amazement. It was not a grocery list; it was a prayer, which said:
"Dear Lord, you know my needs and I am leaving this in your hands."
The grocer man gave her the groceries that he had gathered and
placed on the scales and stood in stunned silence. Louise thanked
him and left the store. The customer handed a fifty-dollar bill to John
as he said, "It was worth every penny of it."

It was sometime later that John Longhouse discovered the
scales were broken, therefore only God knows how much a
prayer weighs!

December 26, 2007

Story:Two wolves live within everyone of us

An old Grandfather, whose grandson came to him with anger at a
schoolmate who had done him an injustice, said, "Let me tell you a
story. I too, at times, have felt a great hate for those that have taken
so much, with no sorrow for what they do. But hate wears you down,
and does not hurt your enemy. It is like taking poison and wishing
your enemy would die. I have struggled with these feelings many
times."

He continued, "It is as if there are two wolves inside me; one is good
and does no harm. He lives in harmony with all around him and does
not take offence when no offence was intended. He will only fight
when it is right to do so, and in the right way."

"But the other wolf, ah! He is full of anger. The littlest thing will set him
into a fit of temper. He fights everyone, all the time, for no reason. He
cannot think because his anger and hate are so great. It is hard to live
with these two wolves inside me, for both of them try to dominant my
spirit."

The boy looked intently into his Grandfather's eye and asked, "Which
one wins, Grandfather?"

The Grandfather solemnly said, "The one I feed."

December 25, 2007

Story:The Praying Hands

Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a
family with eighteen children. Eighteen! In order merely to keep food
on the table for this mob, the father and head of the household, a
goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his
trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighbourhood.
Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of Albrecht Durer the
Elder's children had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent
for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be
financially able to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the
Academy.

After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two
boys finally worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser
would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support
his brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother
who won the toss completed his studies, in four years, he would
support the other brother at the academy, either with sales of his
artwork or, if necessary, also by labouring in the mines. They tossed a
coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Durer won the toss
and went off to Nuremberg.

Albert went down into the dangerous mines and, for the next four
years, financed his brother, whose work at the academy was almost
an immediate sensation. Albrecht's etchings, his woodcuts, and his
oils were far better than those of most of his professors, and by the
time he graduated, he was beginning to earn considerable fees for his
commissioned works.

When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family held a
festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht's triumphant
homecoming. After a long and memorable meal, punctuated with
music and laughter, Albrecht rose from his honoured position at the
head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years
of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfil his ambition. His closing
words were, "And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your
turn. Now you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream, and I will
support you."

All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where
Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered
head from side to side while he sobbed and repeated over and over,
"No ... no ... no ... no."


Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He glanced
down the long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his
hands close to his right cheek, he said softly, "No, brother. I cannot
go to Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look, look what four years in
the mines have done to my hands! The bones in every finger have
been smashed at least once, and lately I have been suffering from
arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to
return your toast, much less make delicate lines on parchment or
canvas with a pen or a brush. No, brother ... for me it is too late."
More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Durer's
hundreds of masterful portraits, pen and silver-point sketches,
watercolours, charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in
every great museum in the world, but the odds are great that you, like
most people, are familiar with only one of Albrecht Durer's works.
More than merely being familiar with it, you very well may have a
reproduction hanging in your home or office.

One day, long ago, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had
sacrificed, Albrecht Durer painstakingly drew his brother's abused
hands with palms together and thin fingers stretched skyward. He
called his powerful drawing simply "Hands," but the entire world
almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece and
renamed his tribute of love "The Praying Hands."

My hearty Christmas wishes to all my readers. Have a good time!

Searching for the beauty

Search

"I do not know why I go on. I do not search for truth. I do not believe in it. But I believe in something. Maybe simply in the beauty of the world which I wander or in the will to live itself."

December 22, 2007

All Blog Posts of Keep Walking 2005-2007

  • Keep Walking!: December 2007
  • Keep Walking!: November 2007
  • Keep Walking!: October 2007
  • Keep Walking!: September 2007
  • Keep Walking!: August 2007
  • Keep Walking!: July 2007
  • Keep Walking!: June 2007
  • Keep Walking!: May 2007
  • Keep Walking!: April 2007
  • Keep Walking!: March 2007
  • Keep Walking!: February 2007
  • Keep Walking!: January 2007
  • Image Padding?
  • Keep Walking!: November 2006
  • Keep Walking!: October 2006
  • Keep Walking!: September 2006
  • Keep Walking!: August 2006
  • Keep Walking!: July 2006
  • Keep Walking!: June 2006
  • Keep Walking!: May 2006
  • Keep Walking!: April 2006
  • Keep Walking!: March 2006
  • Keep Walking!: February 2006
  • Keep Walking!: January 2006
  • Keep Walking!: December 2005
  • Keep Walking!: November 2005
  • Keep Walking!: October 2005
  • Keep Walking!: September 2005
  • Keep Walking!: August 2005
  • Keep Walking!: July 2005
  • Keep Walking!: June 2005
  • Keep Walking!: May 2005
  • Keep Walking!: April 2005
  • Keep Walking!: March 2005
  • Keep Walking!: February 2005
  • Keep Walking!: January 2005