A Cake story
I’m a cake, the most beautiful cake you’ve ever seen. And a very sophisticated one. Can you imagine that I was prepared at the Cordon Bleu, the best patisserie school in the world? Can you imagine that my Creator God took more than three hours to prepare me?
When I was ready, my Creator God put me in a cake box. I was so large that my third floor did not fit in. Oh, yes. I’m a three storey cake. She – yes, my Creator God is a She – took me out for a stroll though London, We passed in front of the British Museum, and I thought that She would take me there, since my beauty should be kept for many future generations. But no, we took the underground, heading for Holbrook. I guess my Creator wanted to show me of to some friends.
In the underground, I received many words of praise. I saw that my God Creator was proud. And so was I.
But life carries some surprises, not all good. Can you imagine that, walking in the street, carrying my weight, my God Creator did trip? She, so proud of me, was falling to the ground.
At that moment, a remembered a story I read in another of my lives.
A proud Indra
A dragon was threatening the survival of humanity, withholding the water that fell to the earth. Indra, a powerful god, killed the dragon with a bolt of lightning and saved the world. After having carried out this glorious deed, he felt very special and summoned Visvakarman, the god of arts and crafts, ordering him to build a palace of unrivalled splendour that would be worthy of himself, the king of the gods. Within a year, the great architect had managed to construct a beautiful big palace, with wonderful gardens, crystal clear lakes, orchards and forests, but Indra always asked for more, however, and every time the work was just about finished, he would come up with some new demands.
Very tired, Visvakarman went to Brahman to complain, who then took the complaint to the highest level and spoke to Vishnu.
The following morning, a blue boy appeared at the doors of the palace asking to speak to Indra. The guards could see that he was special, and took him to the royal presence.
Walking into the courtroom, he addressed Indra. “Great king, I see that your beautiful palace is still not finished. How many years do you think it will take to be completed?”
The great Indra laughed. Drunk on his own glory, he rather fancied the young boy’s pretension in wanting to know something he did not know.
“Even I do not know this,” he answered.
“No Indra that came before you ever managed to finish such a majestic palace.”
“There were Indras that came before me? There were others?”
“Many. An infinity of them, in fact.”
Indra was perplexed. “How many Indras have already existed?”
“The life of an Indra lasts 71 eons, and when 28 Indras have died, one day and one night will have passed for Brahman. The Brahmans die too and are followed by others. As well as this, earth is one amongst many others that exist in our universe, and there are many universes too. It is easier to count all of the grains of sand on all the beaches of the universe that to count the number of Indras that already came before you.”
At this moment, a long procession of ants many yards long came into the room in rows of four, marching like a military parade. The boy started to laugh. Curious, Indra asked, what was so funny.
“Look, great king. Each of these was already an Indra. They became so proud of what they had achieved that, after many incarnations, they came back to earth transformed into ants.”
The great Indra understood the lesson. He called Visvakarman immediately and called off the construction, moving on to dedicate himself diligently to his own spiritual development.
The cake in trouble
I was falling, already a few inches from the ground, a few seconds from turning to dust. I, the most beautiful cake of the world, that should be exhibited in the British Museum for the pleasure of humanity, was about to turn to dust. I could see the expression of astonishment and sadness in the face of my God creator.
Take good care of your soul
Do you think this story is real? I tell you the cake existed, and you can see its picture in front of this post. I tell you the cake fell to the ground and was destroyed in the fall. I tell you the cake may be you. Yes, you.
Many people go through life trying to get rich, to amass a fortune, to get power, be famous. In the end, they turn to dust.
That is life. We came from dust and to dust we will return. The only part of us that survives is the spirit, our soul. Forget the riches, the power, the fame. Take good care of your soul while you are alive.
I am Roberto Lima Netto, and I believe that our objective in life is to be happy and that Spirituality and Jungian psychology, my main areas of interest, can help us in this search for happiness. I am a writer. Some of my books are “The Little Prince for Grown-ups“, “The Jungian Bible“, “The Amazon Shaman” and “In Search of Happiness“. I invite you to visit blog and leave your comment at: www.HappinessAcademyOnline.org.
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