by Silvia Kusada




by Silvia Kusada

I met a man who won the lottery.

 At first he was so happy he could hardly believe it.

He felt blessed, he made plans of traveling the world, to meet people, to try different kinds of food and play any type of game.

All his problems seemed solved now that he had such wealth. He went rejoicing, partying and dancing all night.

On his way back while walking down the street, his foot tripped on a tiny little stone. A shiver of fear went up his spine and ran through his entire body.

The night turned really dark and the happy sounds were now whispering of warnings.

A strange feeling of unhappiness took over and he started to ponder on how things could go wrong if people knew of his wealth. He started to be suspicious of every smile, to the lady saying ‘hallo’, to the kid running by him and to the man who politely opened his door to let him in first.

That night he couldn’t sleep, and once up in the morning on his way to work… he started to envy the people who peacefully walked by enjoying their normal, daily life. He started to miss his old routine.

The thought of the danger connected to his money started to corrode his soul. He never cashed the ticket as he was afraid somebody would haunt him for the money.

One day immersed in his worries, the man saw a big scary man approaching him with a gun. He knew he wanted his ticket and in fear of his life he instinctively tossed it in the nearby river.

The little old lady who was handing him his wallet warned him against trashing the river and advised him to tuck his wallet in a place in his jacket where would not fall out again.

Days went by, and the man many times repeated to himself that it was all for the best, and for a while succeeded into believing it was true. However something remained from such lost wealth, the first few moments of joy. The happiness of the future he dreamed at that time. And his dreams were the only reality he had left.

One day, many days later, pondering by the river a young man sat just next to him, “Fear is our hidden weakness. Fear could be disguised as any beautiful and rational reason which will prevent you from reaching any real wealth. It makes a dark night darker and a beautiful sunshine too bright. While it hugs you as your best friends-, said the young man by putting his arm around his shoulder, -it actually takes away from you the possibility to achieve any of your purer dreams.” Said so, the young man left. While looking at him walking away; he noticed his lottery ticket in his hand. His whole life went through his mind in an instant leaving him with a feeling of extreme weakness. For the first time he started to cry.

“No, you did not lose your wallet this time,”- said the same old lady he met years and years ago, -“You have learned how to keep it safe, haven’t you?” she said with a wicked smile. -“I’m here to return your ticket Jimmy, because I know now you can make a good use of it.

You have met your fears and you now know your weaknesses.

You are ready to walk with them, but not to let them guide you”.


old hand


Jimmy felt her warm hand on his arm, but by the time he turned his head to look at her, she was gone.



This story is to whom might have faced few battlefields at war, but is running away to the most important one:  the battlefield of life.

Wish you one day to gather enough courage to start to walk again by the river and enough inner peace to sit on the bench.

Who knows, the old lady might come by and give you back your lottery ticket.


Krishnamurti, The Book of Life



Is it a religious life to punish oneself? Is mortification of the body or of the mind a sign of understanding?

Is self-torture a way to reality? Is chastity denial?

Do you think you can go far through renunciation?

Do you really think there can be peace through conflict? Does not the means matter infinitely more than the end?

The end may be, but the means is.

The actual, the what is, must be understood and not smothered by determinations, ideals, and clever rationalizations.

Sorrow is not the way of happiness.

The thing called passion has to be understood and not suppressed or sublimated, and it is no good finding a substitute for it.

Whatever you may do, any device that you invent, will only strengthen that which has not been loved and understood.

To love what we call passion is to understand it.

To love is to be in direct communion; and you cannot love something if you resent it, if you have ideas, conclusions about it. How can you love and understand passion if you have taken a vow against it?

A vow is a form of resistance, and what you resist ultimately conquers you.

Truth is not to be conquered; you cannot storm it; it will slip through your hands if you try to grasp it.

Truth comes silently, without your knowing.

What you know is not truth, it is only an idea, a symbol.

The shadow is not the real.

– Krishnamurti, The Book of Life





We HELP spiritual beings to GO free!


We unite spiritual beings






My team and I are available to travel in USA and Europe.

We deliver in English, Spanish and Italian.

Center for Spiritual Research and its applications





ITALY: Ri/Maurice Pascal




Class VI (SHSBC), Class IV C/S and OT 7+.


Leave a comment

No comments yet.

Comments RSS TrackBack Identifier URI

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

  • August 2014
    M T W T F S S
    « Jul   Sep »
  • Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

    Join 102 other followers