At night, I open the window and ask the moon to come and press its face against mine. Breathe into me. Close the language - door and open the love - window. The moon won’t use the door, only the window.
Internally I am a hermit, and externally I am a prince. Arms mean protection to the poor and destruction of the tyrant. Baba Nanak had not renounced the world but had renounced maya, that is, self and ego.
All the lights of the world cannot be compared even to a ray of inner light of the Self.
That the birds of worry and care fly over your head, this you cannot change, but that they build nests in your hair, this you can prevent.
The great, unborn Self is undecaying, immortal, undying, fearless, infinite.
Occasionally we find ourselves at unexpected crossroads with more than one opportunity from which to choose. Time itself is often the best indicator of which decision to make, for it can tell so many things that are now hazy.
The Self, having in dreams enjoyed the pleasures of sense, gone hither and thither, experienced good and evil, hastens back to the state of waking from which he started. As a man passes from dream to wakefulness, so does he pass from this life to the next.
