TellMeAnuda

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0 height="100%"><tr> <td valign="top" width=195 BGCOLOR="#663366" TEXT="#080000" background="044c6172dkcfuy.gif"> <bR> </td> <td valign="top" BGCOLOR="#CC99CC" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#663366" FACE="Arial" >Wisdom Tales</FONT><FONT SIZE="1" COLOR="#663399" FACE="Times New Roman" >    </FONT> |    <B> </B><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#6633CC" FACE="Times New Roman" ><A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Wisdom Tales"><U><B>home</B></U></A></FONT></div> <div> <A HREF="id2.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Story of the month "><U>Story of the month </U></A>   |   <B>TellMeAnuda </B>   |   <A HREF="id4.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Holiday Tips"><U>Holiday Tips</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id6.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Bibliography"><U>Bibliography</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id15.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Previous Stories"><U>Previous Stories</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id18.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Stories for Peace 9/11"><U>Stories for Peace & 9/11</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id19.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Links"><U>Links</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id16.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Articles"><U>Articles</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id17.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Storytelling and Healing"><U>Storytelling and Healing</U></A></div> <div> <IMG SRC="04af0030.gif" border=0 width="496" height="3" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <div> TellMeAnuda </div> <div> <B>Who is TellMeAnuda? - This site is not currently being updated. Hopefully that will change!</B></div> <bR> <div>    TellMeAnuda, affectionately known as TellMuda, Muda, or mom, is a mother, a storyteller, a mental health counselor, and spiritual seeker.  Muda has lived many lifetimes.  She has sat at the feet of a number of spiritual masters, and tripped over many more.  She has come into this lifetime to help facilitate the healing of the planet; through storytelling, and story counseling, cooking, cleaning, and doing at least ten loads of laundry a week. </div> <div>    Muda's stories come from many cultures and spiritual traditions. Often told through her own eyes as they happened, the tales take on new meaning for the listener.  Readers and audience members are invited to ask questions of Muda, through e-mail, or snail mail. In performance settings, audience members can ask questions directly or on cards that Muda provides.  She will attempt to answer all questions through story.  The focus is on humor, with a healthy dose of wisdom.  Her programs are geared for teen and adult audiences.</div> <div>    Muda comes to you live; in her housecoat and sandals, curlers protruding from under her turban, she'll steal your heart, and get you helping with the chores.  </div> <bR> <div>    So ask away and your questions will be answered, whenever possible, as they come in.</div> <div> Questions cannot be answered privately without an additional counseling fee.  E-mail <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#0000FF" FACE="Arial" ><A HREF="mailto:Elisa@wisdomtales.com" TARGET="_top" TITLE="mailto:Elisa@wisdomtales.com"><U><U>Elisa@wisdomtales.com</U></U></A></FONT> for more information.</div> <bR> <bR> <div> <B>TellMeAnuda - Questions and Answers</B></div> <bR> <div> Dear Muda,</div> <bR> <div>    I want to be a more enlightened being, I meditate and stuff, but I still get so judgmental of others, and I don't have a very high opinion of myself.  Can you offer a story to remind me to see the divinity in others and in myself on a regular basis?</div> <div> Signed, </div> <div> Another struggling soul who is doing better than some, worse than others, (damn them!).</div> <bR> <div> Dear Struggling Soul, </div> <bR> <div>    I too have struggled with these feelings on more than one lifetime. Before I begin my story, I must remind you that 'as you sow so shall you reap.'  (Though when I sew, all I seem to do is rip.) It is better not to damn those whom you envy, but to bless them.  How can you allow in yourself that which you would deprive others.  Ah there is a story about that, but I have already thought of another, so next time…</div> <div>    Now then, yes, let me tell you a story that happened to me several lifetimes ago.  This story may help you to realize your goals, if you can make it your own.     </div> <bR> <div>    I was a man in that lifetime, in my prime, but what did it matter. As the youngest of twelve sons, my mother had convinced me that my only hope was to devote my life to God. (I think she wished that she had). So as a good Catholic, I joined up at a thriving monastery in the hills on the outskirts of Tuscany.  </div> <div>    What a beautiful place it was. Great stone buildings, a chapel with the some of finest windows in all of Italy.  The grounds were covered with flower gardens and blossoming, tall trees.  It seemed that every blade of grass had been blessed.  And oh, what an inspired community.  Many folks would walk from the city each week to attend the masses which were positively transformational, and the singing which was sublime.  We monks spent much time in the city doing good works, as well.   I thought I must be in heaven, and I was content.</div> <div>    But then things began to change.  One of our leaders died suddenly, and a few years later the other followed.  A quarrel rose up as to who should replace them. Factions formed. My brothers began leaving in droves. Bitter debate and distrust seemed to replace the peaceful ambiance overnight.  It spilled over into our masses, our singing was off-key, and no new initiates were joining.  I too would have left, except that I had my eye on the Abbottship a few years down the road, and my mother would have killed me.  Well things just got worse, until there were but a handful of us left. It was a dreary dark time, as the grounds fell to weeds, and our hearts to stone.</div> <div>    It was at this time that a traveling Rabbi came down the road that ran past the monastery.  Even the road was no longer maintained, and boom, his driver hit a rut, and the wooden wheel on his carriage broke.</div> <div>    The Rabbi asked his driver to take the wheel to town to be fixed, while he came up to our place to ask for a couple of nights stay.  I happened to open the door on that day, and so I heard The Abbott, father Joseph, welcome the Rabbi.  “Do we have room?” He laughed sadly,  “Rabbi, you can have the honeymoon suite, we're not exactly at full capacity, and stay as long as you like.”  Then he said, “Rabbi, I've heard that you Jewish guys have a lot of wisdom, even if you missed the boat on some things. (He didn't say that last part). Perhaps you could observe our community, and before you leave offer some advice as to how to make us stronger again.”  </div> <div>    The Rabbi agreed and I showed him to his room. I kept a close eye on the Rabbi over the next few days.  He was a quiet fellow, spending most of his time reading and walking in the garden, but he joined us in our work, and meals. Then in a few days time he made ready to leave.  He went to the Abbott's study and they closed the door.  I listened through the keyhole.</div> <div>    “Well,” said the Abbott, “What have you observed? What advice can you give me to pass on to my brothers?”  </div> <div>    “I do not think that your brothers are ready to listen to advice,” the Rabbi replied.  “But I did, in fact, make a rather startling observation.  Here among you at the monastery dwells the Messiah.”</div> <div> “Come again?” said the Abbott, </div> <div> “That's your religion, not mine” the Rabbi chuckled.</div> <div> “Well who is it, which one of us?” The Abbott implored.</div> <div> “Oh that I can't say,” the Rabbi said, “Just go and tell your brothers what I have seen and in time perhaps the truth shall be revealed to you.”</div> <div>     The Abbott could hardly wait to get the Rabbi out the door.  He told me to ring the bell that called all the brothers together. “God works in mysterious ways my brothers," the Abbott said, " for the Rabbi has observed that the Messiah is one of us, here at the monastery”.</div> <div> “Who, who?” They all asked eagerly.</div> <div> “He wouldn't tell, but he said that in time the truth would be revealed to us.”</div> <div>     All of a sudden it got real quiet in the room.  We were all going through our mental rosters.  Mine went something like this: “Well you can write off brother Robert, that guy can't even keep his psalms straight.  But then again, if you needed something, that guy would give you the shirt off his back.”</div> <div>    “ Well certainly it isn't Brother Francis, I don't even know why that guy became a monk, and he doesn't even attend mass half the time. He just stands in the garden.  But you know, I have noticed on a few occasions the birds resting on his shoulders, and eating out of his hands, that takes something.”</div> <div>     “What about the Abbott, power hungry know-it-all.  But on the other hand, if you have a problem, that guy will listen to you till the cows come home.”</div> <div>    Then it got real quiet, and I knew that everyone was thinking the same thing as I was.  “What if its me?”  I had to admit that I had had my glorious moments.  I think “moments” was the operative word, but hey, we all like to fantasize.  </div> <div>    I'll tell you things started to change around that place.  Each of the brothers started treating the others as if they could be the Messiah; seeing their strengths instead of their weaknesses, and wanting their respect and love.  People seemed happier too, as if they were being nicer to themselves. Well, being Messiah for a day is fun, you should try it.</div> <div>    Anyway, we never did find out which one of us it was.  He never came forward.  But it didn't matter because the monastery had a different feeling to it.  Brothers starting flocking there again, the people returned, and the flowers bloomed.  Now when we greet each other we hold our hands in the prayer sign and say, “Namaste”.  One of the brothers learned it in India. It means, “I greet the divinity in you.”  Only we say, “I greet the Messiah in you,”  Because, you never know...  </div> <bR> <div>  Namaste, my friend. Let the truth by told.  Love, TellMeAnuda.</div> <bR> <bR> <div> Send your questions, comments or stories to TellMeAnuda at this address:</div> <div> <A HREF="mailto:Elisa@wisdomtales.com" TARGET="_top" TITLE="mailto:Elisa@wisdomtales.com"><U><U>Elisa@wisdomtales.com</U></U></A><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" > or by snail mail to: PO Box 634, Lincoln, Ma 01773</FONT></div> <bR> </td> </tr></table></body>