Luma Dream Machine Ray2
parable about the wheel and road There were two travelers along the endless road of life. The sun was fired mercilessly, the dust settled on their clothes, and his legs buzzed with fatigue. Both had their own burden behind them - heavy, like the years lived, and light, like unfulfilled hopes. One, younger, the face of which has already begun to lose the reflection of a youthful serene, suddenly stopped. His gaze fell on the wheel of an old rickety cart thrown by the side of the road. It, picked up by a gust of wind, slowly, with a lazy creak, rolled in a circle, raising small whirlwinds of dust. one asked the other, rubbing his forehead tiredly and pointing to the wheel: - Look. Why is the wheel spinning? After all, the cart has been broken, the driver has long left. Why would he spin? The second traveler, his face was crossed by wrinkles, like the same road, and a quiet wise glowed in his eyes, grinned. He was in no hurry, his breath was even. He looked at the young man, then at the wheel, making his aimless but stubborn path. one answered the other, and his voice sounded calm and deep, like the noise of a distant forest: - Therefore, it is not worth still. This is his essence. Stop it - and will become only a rotting hoop, food for worms and rust. While spinning - it is alive. While moving - it *is *. He paused, giving words to get into the soul of a satellite, and then added, and in his voice the indisputable truth, simple and great at the same time: This is my life, my child. movement. Breathing is the movement of blood and air. Thought is the movement of the mind. The heartbeat is the movement of life inside. The road under the feet is moving forward, even if the step is small. Fasting is to stop being part of this great stream. The wheel knows this instinctively. It is spinning because life is a movement. stop. This is the end. The young man silently looked at the wheel, which, having made several more uncertain turns, finally froze. Now it was just a piece of old tree and iron. He looked at the endless road in front of them, felt fatigue in his legs, but also the elasticity of the earth under the feet. He deeply inhaled the dusty air, feeling the movement of life in his lungs, and stepped forward, where life was waiting. Two travelers continued. The creak of their steps merged with the silence of the road. And the wisdom of the wheel, which is spinning "because it does not stand still", lay down in their hearts, on like a grain truth, ready to germinate with understanding